Summer Ball (20 page)

T
HE PLAY-OFFS IN
D
ANNY'S AGE GROUP STARTED THE
W
EDNESDAY OF
the last week at Right Way. If you won your first two games, the final was scheduled for Saturday night in The House, in front of the whole camp, plus any parents who had showed up that day to pack their kids up and take them home. So it was a little like having championship weekend and parents' weekend all wrapped up into one huge deal.

Now all the Celtics had to do was make it to Saturday night.

They were talking about that at dinner the night before the play-offs. It was a weird feeling, the Middletown guys had decided, knowing that if the Celtics won, it meant Ty lost. If Ty's team, the Cavs, won the championship, it meant that Danny and Will lost.

“Or we could all lose,” Tarik said. “Any of you bracketologists ever think of that?”

“Shut up,” Will said. “That would mean Lamar wins.”

“Not happenin',” Rasheed said.

Danny said to Ty and Will, “When was the last time we all weren't on the same side for a big game?”

“Biddy,” Will said. “When we were all eight. Ty made that layup at the buzzer, remember?”

“Over me,” Danny said. “Like I wasn't there.”

“Shoulda done your flop thing,” Rasheed said.

“Thing” came out “thang” with him sometimes.

“I don't flop,” Danny said.

Tarik groaned. “Oh, sweet Lord, here we go again,” he said.

“Nah,” Rasheed said. “Now we're on the same side.”

“Except for Ty,” Will said.

“Remember, it's only summer ball,” Ty said.

“I know,” Danny said. “It just feels like more now.”

He had played a lot the last two games of the regular season, after they'd finally beaten the Cavs the day of his famous bowling-ball pass. Ever since then, Coach Powers had coached as if Josh Cameron were looking over his shoulder, especially in the second half of the Cavs game, when Danny had gotten to play the point as much as Rasheed, dished out a bunch of assists, played pretty much his best all-around game in Maine, maybe even fooled Josh Cameron into thinking this was the way he always played for Coach Powers.

When the game had ended, Danny actually felt good about things for a change, felt some of his old confidence coming back. Josh had come back over to him and said, “You're Richie Walker's boy, right?”

Danny said, yes sir, that was him, all right.

“I should've figured that out the minute you made that pass,” Josh said. Then he clapped Danny on the back and yelled over to Coach Powers, “Hey, Ed, I've got my eye on this guy.”

Coach Powers pointed at Josh and nodded, like the two of them were in perfect agreement.

When they were outside that day, Tarik had said to Danny, “Well, looky there. Coach Ed seems to have swallowed up his own bad self all of a sudden.”

“For now.”

“Know what that old man's problem is?” Tarik said. “He just plain forgot what he loved about this game in the first place.”

Maybe it was a coincidence, maybe not, but their last two games, Danny had played as much with the first unit as Cole had. Sometimes more. A week ago, he couldn't wait to get out of here. Now he couldn't wait for the play-offs to start.

Summer ball.

Only more.

 

Danny talked to his mom that night on the telephone. He was hoping to talk to both his parents, mostly because he hadn't talked to his dad one time since the night he'd told him about faking the injury. But his mom informed him that his dad was out taking his nightly walk.

“My dad?” Danny said. “Walking for, like,
exercise
?”

“He says that if he's going to coach next season, he's not doing it from a folding chair.”

“Mom,” Danny said, “you sure he's not there and just doesn't want to talk to me?”

“He's calmed down about the whole knee thing,” she said, then quickly added, “Somewhat, anyway. You know your dad. He just needs longer to work through things than most people.”

Danny said, “Is he coming with you when you come to pick me up?”

When she didn't answer right away, Danny knew.

“It's a long time for him to sit in the car,” his mom said.

“The finals are on Saturday night if we make it.”

There was a pause and then his mom said, “I know. And now let's change the subject, shall we?”

“Fine with me.”

Ali Walker said, “So, how goes the battle?”

“Still a battle,” Danny said, then filled her in on his fight with Lamar, his suspension, Tess's camera. How he and Rasheed were boys now. Josh Cameron giving him a shout-out after he made the funky pass. When Danny was done, he felt like he'd just made some kind of presentation in front of her class: “How I Spent My Summer Vacation,” by Danny Walker.

“I'm sorry about the fight, Mom,” he said. “But he was picking on Zach.”

His mom surprised him then. The way she surprised him a lot. “Don't beat yourself up because a big guy was about to beat up a little guy.”

“I told you I wouldn't fight.”

“And I told you,” she said, “that one of the secrets to life is
picking
your fights.”

“Play-offs start tomorrow,” he said.

“How's the old coach?”

“Same old. But he's been letting me play more.”

“
Hel
-lo,” his mom said. “He wants to win, right?”

Danny smiled. “Thanks, Mom.”

“You don't need more of a pep talk?” she said. “I've got a lot more material.”

“I'm good.”

“Yes, you are,” she said. “You are the goodest.”

Danny said, “And you're an English teacher?”

“See you Saturday night for the big game,” she said.

“If we make it that far.”

“You will.”

“You're sure of that?”

“It's who you are, kiddo,” she said.

“Do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Remind Dad of that if you get a chance.”

 

The Celtics, as the number 6 team, drew the Bulls, number 3, in the first round. If they beat the Bulls, that meant they were probably going to play the Cavs, Ty's team, in the semis.

Then, if everything worked out the way it was supposed to, they'd play the Lakers, the top seed, in the finals.

Them against Lamar.

Sometimes you didn't get to pick your fights.

Sometimes
, Danny thought,
they picked you
.

 

“Winning the championship, that's what you came here for,” Coach Powers said in their pregame huddle.

Danny wanted to say, No, that's what
you
came here for.

They had split their two games with the Bulls, basically a two-man team with the two Brooklyn AAU guys, Kareem Dell and TJ Tucker. The Celtics had lost the first one when Danny shot the air ball at the end, then won the last regular-season game, one Rasheed said didn't count because the Bulls' coach, Coach Pedulla, had barely played Kareem or TJ in the second half.

“Understand,” Rasheed had said to Danny in the layup line. “They didn't
want
to win yesterday. They wanted the seedings the way they already were, them at three and us at six. You hear what I'm tellin' you? These guys wanted us.”

“My mom always says, be careful what you wish for,” Danny said, grinning at him.

“Mine, too.”

Cole started with Rasheed in the backcourt. Danny figured the way Coach Powers had been using him, he'd get in at the end of the first quarter or maybe start the second. But when the Celtics got behind by ten points after the first three minutes, in a blink, Coach Powers said, “Walker.”

Danny was a few seats down from him. “Yes, Coach?”

Coach Powers turned and said, “I was wondering if you might be interested in going into the game?”

Now Danny jumped up. “Yes, Coach!”

“Play the point for a little bit,” he said, “and cover that pesky boy with the crew cut. See if we can get him to do the same with you at the other end.”

The pesky boy with the crew cut, and more freckles than Danny had ever seen on one face, was Ricky Hartmann. By now, having gone through the regular season and seen a bunch of games, Danny knew Ricky was pretty much the one guy at Right Way you didn't want guarding you, under any circumstances. Will and Tarik, who had made it their mission to know as much as possible about as many campers as possible, said Ricky was a defensive back in football at home in Philadelphia. Before he would foul out of a game, and he fouled out of almost every game, he came after you like he was blitzing a quarterback, sometimes from the quarterback's blind side.

He took Danny now, the way Coach Powers wanted.

“Oh, man, is this ever taking one for the team,” Danny said to Rasheed a couple minutes later, while Tarik took two foul shots. Ricky Hartmann had already fouled Danny once, sending him sliding into the first row of bleachers when the two of them dove for a loose ball.

“You're
part
of this team now,” Rasheed said. “That's the main thing.”

It wasn't as if Danny came into the game and started running rings around Ricky Hartmann. Ricky aggressively bodied up on him every chance he got, held him when the ref wasn't looking, even hip-checked Danny right off the court one time when Danny tried to get out on a fast break Rasheed was leading. Somehow, though, Danny held his own. More importantly, Rasheed, even with Kareem guarding
him
now, was getting some room to maneuver, starting to get his points in bunches.

The Celtics cut the lead to four by halftime.

It felt like a real game now.

Right before the second half started, Coach Powers said, “Same group we opened the game with.” Then he paused. “Except for Cole. Walker, you take his place for now.”

When they started to break the huddle, Danny felt somebody grab his arm, hard, from behind.

He turned around and saw that it was Cole.

“This should've been your spot all along,” he said. “Now, go kick their butts.”

There were no surprises from the Bulls, not in a play-off game. They were just going to ride Kareem and TJ as far as they could. With seven minutes left, the two of them had stretched the Bulls' lead to twelve points, their biggest lead of the game. The Bulls had gone to a zone, and Rasheed, playing with four fouls, wasn't just missing, he'd gotten frustrated trying to get open looks at the basket.

Finally Coach Powers, more out of desperation than anything else, called a time-out and put Will Stoddard in the game, said he was giving Will a chance to be what he called his designated zone-buster.

Even now, facing elimination in the first round, Will was incapable of being anybody except himself.

“You know what they say, Coach?” Will said.

“What do they say, Mr. Stoddard?”

Will hit him with one of his favorite lines then. “There's no greater tragedy in basketball than being hot and not knowing it.”

“You think this is funny, son?” Coach Powers said.

“No, sir,” Will said. “Just fun.”

Will hit his first two threes. Then another shot with his foot on the three-point line. And all those baskets did was change everything for the Celtics, just like that. Danny had seen it before, a couple of baskets changing everything. Now it had happened here, against the Bulls. It was one of the things Danny loved about sports, how fast things changed. His dad always said that it was something that had always fascinated him about all sports, not just basketball—how fragile games could be, how they could turn on the smallest moment or play, and how you better be ready when they did.

Will had done exactly what he was supposed to do, which meant he had shot the Bulls right out of their zone. Ricky Hartmann was still on Danny when the Bulls went back to man-to-man, Kareem was still on Rasheed. With two minutes left, Rasheed beat Kareem off the dribble and seemed to have a clear path right down the middle. But Ricky Hartmann switched off Danny and got in his way just as Rasheed dropped his shoulder for his drive.

Rasheed went down, Ricky went down.

Ball went in.

Nick Pinto, reffing the game, didn't hesitate, signaling offensive foul.

Rasheed had fouled out.

Anybody else, Danny knew, including Danny himself, would have jumped up and protested the call, because it was that close. And usually a call like this, this late in the game, this late in an
important
game, went to star players.