Playing For Keeps Read Online Free PDF

green-earth smell that no
place else in the country could match.
    He’d caught a couple more throws when he
heard clapping from the bleachers. Turning, he found a dark-haired,
broad-shouldered boy watching him, applauding. A shy grin split the
kid’s face. “Nice catch, Coach,” he called out.
    Mike took a good look at the spectator. This
must be the kid he was meeting. “You Kyle Worthington?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    Jogging across the short distance that
separated them, he smiled at Kyle. His dark-eyed gaze reminded Mike
of Tyler. “Ditch the formalities, okay?”
    “Sure.” Kyle eyed the ball. “You haven’t lost
your touch.”
    Jacey’s son and I followed your career
religiously.
    “Your uncle said you were a football
fan.”
    With sham alarm, the kid looked from left to
right. “Shh, don’t tell anybody.”
    Gripping the ball, Mike dropped down on the
bleachers. “Why’s that? Your mama was with us when he said it and
she didn’t freak.”
    “It’s not my mom that I’m worried about.”
Obviously wanting to change the subject Kyle nodded to the ball. “I
read an article in
Sports Illustrated
that said your
father used to practice with you every night when you were
little.”
    Mike pictured Jim Kingston out in the
backyard tossing footballs even when he was tuckered out from a
hard day teaching adolescents at the high school and tutoring
afterward to make ends meet. His shoulders would be slumped like an
old man, but he never let on how exhausted he was. Mike’s brothers
weren’t into sports, but his dad was, and it had become an interest
they shared.
    “Yep, he did that.”
    “Neat.”
    There was something about the kid’s tone.
“Your daddy play with you?”
    “My dad did music with me.”
    “Huh?”
    “I’m a musician. My father recognized my
budding talent—his words—when I was three. He made me practice
hours a day.”
    “When you were
three?”
    “Don’t get me wrong. I loved it.” The boy
stared off into the field. “He was so interested in me then.”
    “What do you play?”
    “Piano.”
    “Hey, my son likes to tinker with a
keyboard.”
    “Yeah?” Mischief lit Kyle’s face. “If you
pick me to watch him this summer, I could give him lessons.”
    “Which was the point of this meeting.” Mike
held out his hand. “Nice to make your acquaintance, Kyle
Worthington.”
    “Same here, Coach Kingston.” The boy had
strength in his long slim fingers—just right for piano-playing. Or
for catching a football.
    “So, you wanna watch Tyler?”
    “Yeah. I put in for it.”
    “Why?”
    “I love kids, and since I never had brothers
or sisters, I thought this would be fun. And it’d sort of make me
feel part of the team.”
    “You play sports?”
    “Only in my mind.”
    “What’s that mean?”
    “My dad wouldn’t let me sign up for any teams
when I was little. When he left...well, it’s a long story. Now I
make a great fan.”
    Mike wondered what was wrong with parents.
Some of them ought to be horsewhipped. “Sorry your daddy and mama
kept you from the games.”
    Kyle laughed out loud. “Not my mom. When she
found out I’d hidden my interest from Dad, she tried to get me into
stuff, but it was too late. By then, I was a klutz.” He got a
faraway look in his eyes. “That didn’t stop her, though. She took
me to every game—soccer, football, basketball—I wanted to go to. We
even saw a few Bulls games when you played. It was a while before I
figured out she was bored to tears.”
    Score one for Dr. Ross. “I got the impression
she isn’t a sports enthusiast.”
    “That’s for sure. Anyway, Uncle Eric had
daughters, and they’re into ballet. So we started to do stuff
together to spare Mom the agony of watching a game.”
    “Hmm.” Mike stood and situated himself in the
gravel that surrounded the field. He didn’t like sitting still too
long; it made him jittery. He tossed the ball up in the air. “So,
if you took care of my son, what would you do with