Free Front Court Hex by Matt Christopher Page B

the
     rebound, caught it, jumped for the lay-up and missed.
    Again he got the rebound, yanking it out of a Foxfire’s hands. But this time he didn’t shoot. Panting breathlessly, sweat
     rolling down his cheeks, he passed off to Ronnie as he heard Freddie’s voice ringing in his ears, “Pass it, will you? Your
     shots are bad, man!”
    The whistle shrilled for a jump ball as a Foxfire trapped the ball in Ronnie’s hand.
    A sub rushed in, pointed at Jerry and Jerry went out, wiping the sweat off his forehead.
    “I just can’t understand it, Coach,” he said, grabbing a towel and drying his face. “The ball just won’t go in for me.”
    “I can’t understand it, either, Jerry,” Coach Stull admitted. “That corner shot looked sure to drop in, and at the last second
     it looked as if somebody had pulled it away with a string. The same thing happened with that lay-up. No reason why it should’ve
     bounced way off the boards like it did, but it did. I guess it’s the breaks. Anyway, you’re doing fine in defense and I want
     you to rest a while.”
    Jerry tossed the towel back to Mickey Ross, the small, dark-haired manager, and sat down.
Yes
, he thought,
it’s a good thing I’m doing all right in defense, otherwise I’d be sitting on the bench most of the time
.
    The Foxfires held a two-point lead when the quarter ended, and were ahead by six points at the middle of the second quarter.
    “Okay, Jerry, take Manny’s place,” Coach Stull said.
    Jerry reported to the scorekeeper and went in when a jump ball was called between Lin Foo and a Foxfire guard. Manny Lucas,
     the sub, went out. Although his man had scored five points against him and none against Jerry, Manny looked disappointed that
     the coach yanked him.
    Lin got the tap off to Chuck Metz, who quickly passed to Freddie. Freddie dribbled downcourt, stopped as he was double-teamed,
     and drew a whistle when he dragged his pivot foot. He glared at the ref, but gave the ball up without saying a word.
    The Foxfires took it out, and in three passes scored a basket to put them eight points ahead.
    “Jerry, get in there!” Coach Stull shouted from the sideline.
    Jerry frowned at him.
Get in there? I can’t be all over the place at once, Coach!
    He succeeded in pulling down a rebound after a miss under the Chariot basket, and brought the ball upcourt. A Foxfire sneaked
     up unexpectedly beside him and smacked the ball out of his hand. Jerry exploded into fast action, bolting after the ball to
     get it back. His charge knocked down the Foxfire. A whistle shrilled, and Freddie Pearse yelled, “Watch it, Jerry! This isn’t
     a football game!”
    The Foxfire was given a free throw, and sank it. Foxfires 22, Chariots 13.
    Still glum over his carelessness, Jerry tossed the ball from out-of-bounds to Ronnie and froze on the spot as he saw ascarlet uniform sweep in front of the redheaded forward, snare the pass, and dribble it downcourt.
    “Jerry!” a voice yelled disgustedly, and Jerry realized that someone else had now joined forces against him — Ronnie Malone,
     his best friend.
    For an instant they stared at each other. Then they moved together, sprinting after the dribbler.
    “Didn’t you see him coming?” Ronnie asked.
    “I wouldn’t have thrown it to you if I had, would I?” Jerry answered.
    “Stop arguing out there and go after that ball!” Coach Stull’s voice boomed.
    The Foxfire was stopped by Lin Foo, who nearly stole the ball back from him. The Foxfire passed to a teammate. The teammate
     faked a shot, then lost theball to Jerry, who knocked it out of his hands. Jerry dribbled the ball back up-court. Finding himself all alone as he crossed
     the center line, he sped on to the basket, feeling certain that he couldn’t miss now.

    He leaped, laid the ball against the boards and feeling sure of himself, ran onto the stage without waiting to see if the
     ball sank into the net. At the same time a yell rose from the Chariot fans, telling