Nothin But Net by Matt Christopher Page A

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     way, and suddenly, the lead was down to 8.
    Tim brought the ball upcourt again, determined this time to show Stephanie what he could do. He pictured himself back on the
     playground, dribbling circles around the other kids and sinking uncontested layups. But the Woodbine team was playing a zonehere, and they were clogging the lane so much that Tim had to back it out to the high post.
    He glanced over to the sidelines and saw Mike, still with his arm around Stephanie. Again, he leaned over and kissed her.
     And just then, Tim saw a blur going past him — it was the other team’s point guard, robbing him of the ball and streaking
     downcourt for the uncontested layup Tim was supposed to have scored!
    Now it was only a 6-point lead, and Jody yelled for time-out. “Daniels, take a seat,” he told Tim, pointing to the bench.
     “Binkman, you’re in.”
    Tim’s face burned with shame as the third-string point guard, Steve Binkman, went into the game. Steve was a pretty good outside
     shooter, as Tim well knew from scrimmages and previous games, but he couldn’t dribble to save his life! Why was Jody putting
     him in at point guard, the position that ran all the plays and handled the ball the most?
    “Now look,” Jody told Tim after play had resumed, “I want you to go back in there next whistle, but I want you to quit hogging
     the ball. You dish it, okay? Every time. I don’t want you taking any shots, understand? No bricks from outside, no layups
     that get stuffedinside. You dish it to Donnie and make everyone clear out for him.”
    Tim nodded, grateful that Jody was giving him one more chance to redeem himself. When the whistle blew, there were only two
     minutes left in the game, and Wickasaukee had lost the lead. They were down by 3 points — not an impossible task — but so
     much was riding on an Eagles victory that it felt like they had to climb Mt. Everest.
    Tim took the inbounds pass and called for a Brooklyn Three. Three meant Donnie, who was playing center for them now, with
     Last fouled out. Tim tossed it to Donnie, who tossed it right back, then spun off his man and headed toward the basket. Tim
     lofted the ball slowly over the surprised defender, and Donnie reached over his head to touch the pass and send it off the
     glass and into the basket.
    It was a world-class play, and the entire bench and bleachers erupted in cheers. Those cheers rose even higher when Donnie
     stole the ball and drove to the hoop again, finishing it with a slam dunk!
    They had the lead now, but not for long. Woodbine’s center had the ball and was backing Donnie up towardthe basket. The giant turned and laid a soft hook right through the hoop.
    Tim took a quick glance at the clock and saw that he had only thirty seconds to work with. He knew he needed to waste a lot
     of it, so that the Eagles’ next shot would be the game’s last. Tim didn’t want to give Camp Woodbine a chance to come back
     down the floor.
    He dribbled until they came out after him, then dished off to Donnie. Now it was DeGeronimo’s turn to do his magic. He spun
     one way, then the other, faked the shot, and the giant, who had leapt into the air, crashed down on Donnie’s shoulders. The
     ref’s whistle blew, and Donnie went to the line for two foul shots.
    With the crowd screaming, cheering him on, he sank the first. But the second shot caromed off the rim and to the right. Tim
     went after it like a cat and grabbed the rebound away from two Woodbine players. He sprung into the air and led Donnie, who
     was cutting for the basket. Donnie grabbed the ball in midstride and laid it up and in, just as the final buzzer sounded.
     They’d won the game, by 2 points. And Tim had contributed the winning assist!
    Everyone on the Eagles leapt into each others’ arms and danced up and down on the court, as the defeated Woodbine team shuffled
     off in defeat. Tim tried to spot Gruber and Stephanie in the crowd. Had she seen him in his finest moment?