The game gets more interesting once the girls start retaliating and I’m excited to see their spark. Even so, they start to drag in the last half-hour of practice.
Allie blows her whistle and calls them over. After a brief discussion, she announces, “We’re going to call it for the day.”
Decan Flynn hisses, “We’re too much for you, huh?”
His sister Leah replies, “We only have seven players, idiot. You have fourteen so you’re all getting a break while we play through.”
The girls assume identical poses of defiance—hands on their hips and jaws rigid with anger. Allie breaks the tension by saying, “Everyone is doing great out there, but now you guys can get some time on your own.”
I watch as she follows her team into the locker room. Not only is Allie a nice person, she’s a great coach, which in my book is a winning combination. Even though we’re pitting the girls against the boys, she gives the boys’ team as much encouragement as her own, which is a sure sign she cares.
I turn back to the guys on the bench and send out another team to fill the vacancy. Both of my teams play harder than they ever have and it’s my guess that’s because they feel like they’ve got something to prove. I know all too well how that feels.
When I left my job in Chicago, it was out of anger that the school brought in a coach whose rank was to be above mine. I was and still am determined to show them how wrong they were to assume anyone could take my place. The only way I think I can do that is to get the Elk Lake Crappies into the finals. Not that I have a snowball’s chance on the sun of doing that, but I’m still going to try.
After practice, I call my team over for a pep talk. “You guys have shown a lot of improvement in the last few practices.”
“You think we’re good then?” Ashton Finch, one of the guards, asks.
Shaking my head, I tell him, “No. But I think you can get good if you’re willing to put in the work.”
“We’re here every day after school!” one of the freshmen declares heatedly.
“And?” I ask.
“That’s a lot,” he says. “You know we have other stuff going on.” He lists, “Homework, friends, family stuff …”
Before he can add to his list, I tell him, “There are twenty-four hours in the day. Two hours of practice a day will probably make you better players. Three will definitely make you better, but four will guarantee a sizable climb in the ranks.”
“Four hours a day?” Alfonse shrieks. “Dude, that’s, like, a lot.”
“Go get your phone, Alfonse,” I tell him.
He looks confused but he still goes to his backpack to do my bidding. He opens the phone and punches in his code before handing it to me.
“Dress to Impress?” I ask in disbelief while looking at the apps on his homepage.
“It’s the best Roblox game out there,” he defends, not looking the least bit embarrassed.
Going to his settings, I look up his average screen time. “According to this, you spend four hours a day on your phone. Give two of that to basketball and there you go. You have plenty of time.”
While grumbles fill the air, Kenny steps forward and declares, “I say we do it. Those of you who don’t want to can surf the bench while the rest of us leave you in our dust.”Go, Kenny!
Decan joins in. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m not about to let my little sister show us up. That’s plain humiliating.”
Jackson pipes in. “I don’t like the idea of Leah thinking she’s better than me, either.”
“It’s decided then,” I say. “We’ll have mixed team practice from four to six, and I’ll make sure the gym is open from six thirty to eight thirty in the morning for those of you who want to get a leg up.”
“You want us to practice in the morning?” comes a whiny complaint from one of the newbies.
“Like I said,” I tell him, “it’s up to you if you’re going to add an early practice. But I won’t be democratic about my startinglineup. The best players will start, and I’ll only switch them out when they need a break.”
“When does this start?” Alfonse wants to know.
“Tomorrow morning,” I tell him. “And just so you know, I’m going to lose sleep because of this, and I’m not getting paid any more.”
“Then why are you doing it?” Alfonse asks.
