Free Hook Shot Hero by Matt Christopher

again—but in a good way. Then he turned his attention back to the court to watch Mike.
    Mike flicked on the microphone. “Good afternoon, parents. That sure was entertaining, wasn’t it? Well, I’m going to take things in a more serious direction now, because I take basketball very seriously. It might be just a game to some”—he cut his gaze at Tim, eyebrows raised—“but to me, it’s nothing to laugh about.”
    He jabbed a finger at his mentees. “All right, you three, come out here.”
    The small boys hurried onto the court. Mike passed them each a ball. “Dribbling drill one,” he ordered.
    Obediently, the boys dribbled the balls from the center line to the end line, switched to their other hands, and dribbled back. As one, they stopped, held their balls under their arms, and looked at Mike expectantly.
    They’re waiting for the next command, Tim realized with a touch of envy. Mike’s really got them under control. Pretty impressive.
    Yet as Tim watched the boys demonstrate their skills, he began to wonder if it was that impressive after all. Sure, Mike’s mentees performed each task better than his had. But the expressions on their faces were so blank that they looked like robots going through programmed motions. There was no energy, no life—no fun!
    Mike finished his demonstration fifteen minutes later to a smattering of polite applause. Dick said a few final words, thanking both Tim and Mike for their efforts and inviting the parents to the dining hall for refreshments.
    Tim had barely gone a step when Red bounced up to him and grabbed his arm. “Come on, you’ve got to meet my mom and dad!” he said, tugging Tim excitedly toward a young couple. Tim would have picked out Red’s mother in a second, for her son had inherited her bright hair.
    “My folks want to meet you, too!” Peter echoed.
    “And mine!” Keanu put in.
    “Okay, okay!” Tim said, laughing. A moment later, he was surrounded by six adults, all of whom were telling him how happy they were with his mentoring job.
    “They made it easy because they were so enthusiastic,” Tim confessed. “They’re great kids. I’m going to miss them.”
    And to his surprise, he realized it was true. He wouldn’t have believed it a week earlier, but he was going to miss spending time with the three little guys!

19
    B efore they made their way to the dining hall, Red, Peter, and Keanu’s parents insisted that Tim pose for photos with their children.
    “We’ll send you copies the minute we get home,” they promised. Then they all went together to share in the refreshments.
    Mike was already at the dining hall, helping himself to cookies and juice. A few parents nodded to him, but no one approached him with a camera and none of his kids asked him to sit with them. When Tim looked for him again, Mike was gone.
    Tim would never have thought it possible, but he found himself feeling sorry for Mike Gruber.
    The feeling didn’t last long. The Eagles Nest campers played a pickup game that afternoon. On the first possession, Tim was bringing the ball down the court when Mike jumped in front of him and tried to swat the ball out of his hands.
    He failed miserably because Tim knew from experience that that’s what he’d do. So when Mike came at him at the top of the key, Tim turned his shoulders to the hoop as if setting up for a hook shot.
    “Don’t have any other moves, huh, Daniels?” Mike taunted as Tim jumped.
    “Oh, don’t I?” Tim responded—and instead of shooting at the top of his arc, he fired an over-the-head pass to Donnie, who converted it into two points.
    Mike clamped his mouth shut in a tight line and gave Tim a dirty look. But he didn’t say anything else to him for the rest of the game.
    The stony silence between them might have continued indefinitely if Tim hadn’t decided to break it.
    “Listen, you don’t like me, and I don’t like you,” he told Mike at a campfire a few nights later, “but it looks like we’re