Free Snowboard Champ by Matt Christopher, Paul Mantell

knew how to do — which, he came to see, wasn’t that much.
    Clay gave him pointers after every jump: “You need to hit the jump a little faster and ollie as you get to the top,” he advised. And after another run: “Make sure your board isn’t on an edge at takeoff. That makes you lose your balance in the air.”
    Clay didn’t feel that Matt needed that many jumps. “You can do a lot of variations with the same few basic moves,” he said, demonstrating for Matt a few times and getting wows from everyone nearby.
    So Matt practiced his few jumps. Once he was consistently hitting them, Clay began adding flourishes: “We’re gonna do a little chicken salad,” he said.
    “Chicken salad?” Matt repeated, laughing.
    “Your front hand grabs between your feet and through your legs,” he explained. “To the heel edge. That’s right,” he added as Matt tried to go through the move while standing still.
    Matt could feel himself getting better by the moment. With Uncle Clayton behind him, he would soon be super-skilled physically and super-confident mentally. He smiled at the thought. This contest was going to be no contest at all. He was going to blow Riley Hammett right off the mountain.
    On Sunday, they hit the slopes again. “I should’ve spent more time with you from the beginning,” Clay said apologetically, as they rode the lift together to the top of the half-pipe. “You wouldn’t have gotten yourself into this mess in the first place if I’d been on the job.”
    “That’s okay, Uncle Clayton,” Matt said. “I mean, you’ve got a life, too. You’re not my dad, after all, and besides, I should be able to take care of myself by now.”
    Clay patted him on the head affectionately. “Yeah,” he said, “but you shouldn’t have to.”
    They made their way to the top of the half-pipe. “I haven’t done the half-pipe since last year,” Matt said nervously.
    “Don’t try to get air the first time down,” Clay advised him. “Just give yourself a nice smooth trip. Get the feel of the pipe. Smooth through the transitions. Then, as you feel more comfortable, you can take some air and even try a few grabs.”
    Clay’s approach was great for confidence building. Matt tried things over and over until he had them down, then added a little bit of flourish or extension when he was ready. He could feel himself improving run by run.
    After lunch, it was back to the jumps.
    “I think we’ll try a little roast beef now,” Clay said, as they rode up the mountain.
    “I’ve heard of that move,” Matt replied. “It’s the flip side of the chicken salad, right?”
    “Right. Same grab, but with the back hand instead of the front. Yeah, roast beef and chicken salad — and we’re gonna bone it, too.”
    “Bone it?”
    “Yeah. It’s stylin’, y’know? You straighten one leg while you’re in the air and hold it till just before you land.”
    Matt listened to every word his uncle told him. He listened in a way he never listened to a teacher in a classroom. When he’d first moved in with Clay, he’d liked snowboarding a lot. Now it was his passion — and this contest was going to be a defining moment in his life, he could just feel it.
    Snowboard Champ lurked in the trees at the top of the mountain, waiting for his quarry to appear. The bank robbers had gotten away clean with the cash, riding off in their commandeered helicopter. The chopper would drop them here at the top of the mountain, where they would snowboard down to their underground cavern hideout. Only they had no idea he was here, ready to foil their plans . . . .
    The whir of the rotors alerted him to the chopper’s approach. There! It was letting off its passengers, loaded with the precious cargo stowed in the backpacks they wore.
    Here they came, down the hill toward him. He let them pass him, then shoved off in hot pursuit. He carved a path almost directly down the fall line, cutting in front of the robbers one after the other, startling