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Hartfield High School. There weren’t many people watching. But it was a real game, with a referee. There was no one on their team as tall as Russell. He got the tip. We went right away into our weave and the Hartfield guys looked a little confused. We kept at it until Russell’s man began to anticipate the weave and then Russell faked coming toward the man with the ball (who was me), and broke suddenly behind his man toward the basket. I got him the ball and Russell hit the layup. It was pretty clear that if we could get Russell the ball near the basket, he could shoot a layup over anyone that they had guarding him.
    In the second half we had a big lead and we started experimenting with Nick driving for the basket off the weave, and Billy shooting set shots behind a screen. Manny wasn’t as tall as Russell, but he worked harder and got a lot of rebounds. He always looked to pass out, but at halftime I had told him to start putting some of them up. And in the second half he did.
    We won by a lot, and hitchhiking home afterward, we were really up, throwing the ball around, telling each other how good we were.
    “What kind of trophy they give when you win the tourney?” Russell said.
    “They’re going to give you the ball hog trophy,” Nick said. “You shoot every time you get the ball.”
    “You mean I score every time,” Russell said.
    “I didn’t see the ball so long,” Billy said, “I almost forgot how to play.”
    “I could see that,” Manny said.
    “Hey,” Billy said. “How many points you get?”
    A pickup truck stopped and the driver said we could ride in the back if we wanted. We jumped in.
    As we rattled around in the back of the truck, I said, “You know why we won?”
    “Because we’re the class of the freakin’ league,” Russell said.
    “Because they didn’t play any defense at all,” I said. “They didn’t know how to defend the weave. So they just gave up on it. They didn’t fight for rebounds. They didn’t have anybody to guard Russell. And all any of them wanted to do was heave the ball at the basket.”
    “So you’re saying we won because they were crappy,” Nick said.
    “I’m saying that we won because we were better than they were,” I said. “But it doesn’t mean we’re good yet.”
    “We could use a couple more guys,” Manny said. “I was sucking air by the end.”
    “Not me,” Russell said.
    “That’s because all you did was shoot layups,” Billy told him. “Manny was working his ass off getting rebounds.”
    “Don’t want to tire out your big scorer,” Russell said.
    The truck let us off on Route 6 at the corner of Main Street.
    “You know anybody else who can play?” I asked. “That we can stand to play with?”
    “Some of the older guys can play,” Billy said.
    “They don’t want to play with us,” I said.
    “And anybody else,” Nick said, “we can’t stand.”
    “So it’s just us, I guess. We gotta be sure and get in good condition.”
    “Hell, we practice every day,” Russell said.
    “Maybe we’ll need to do some sprints too,” I said. “You know, up and down the court?”
    “Sprints?” Russell asked.
    “Need to be strong at the end of the game,” I said.
    “What if somebody gets hurt?” Billy said. “And we don’t have any other guys?”
    “We’re screwed,” I said.

 
    I read the newspaper every day. I didn’t pay too much attention to the news. In the summer I went straight to the sports page and read the box scores…. Tommy Holmes had a great year for the Braves in 1945. Hit .352 and led the league in home runs with twenty-eight. The Braves finished in fourth place that year. The Red Sox with everyone still in the service finished seventh in the American League and an outfielder named Johnny Lazor was their leading hitter at .310. But the next year, with Williams and the others back, they won the pennant and Ted hit .342…We had a pro football team those years. The Boston Yanks had Boley Dancewicz and Paul