Second-String Center Read Online Free PDF Page A

rest of these players, who’d been sprinting and pounding on each other all afternoon. Be smart, he thought. Don’t choke.
    Johnson had the ball, crouching low as he dribbled, easily keeping it away from Spencer. He gave a quick stutter to his left, and Spencer stumbled back on his heels. Johnson darted the other way and skipped into the open.
    Dunk was guarding a forward near the basket, on the far side from where Johnson was driving. The Palisades center was waving for the ball, locked in a battle for position with Jared.
    As Fiorelli stepped in front of Johnson, Dunk shifted closer to the center, expecting Johnson to pass. And here came the ball. Dunk wasn’t quite quick enough to grab it, but he was right there in the action. The center turned toward the baseline, then pivoted back toward the basket, right into Dunk’s path.
    With a quick swipe, Dunk easily stole the ball and gripped it tightly with both hands. Miguel shouted his name, and Dunk turned and fired an outlet pass. Spencer was already sprinting up the court, five yards ahead of Johnson, and he hauled in Miguel’s long pass and made the layup.
    Fiorelli’s three-pointer a minute later cut the lead to three, but Johnson answered with an off-balance jumper. And when Jared picked up his fourth foul in the final minute, the resulting free throws put the game out of reach for the Hornets.
    “If you’d showed up on time, things might have been different,” Spencer said sharply to Jared in the locker room.
    “It wasn’t my fault,” Jared replied. “Some things are more important than basketball, you know.”
    Spencer frowned and took a seat in front of his locker, yanking off a sneaker. “Whatever it was, don’t make it a habit.”
    “Yeah,” Lamont said. “Can’t you schedule things around the games? Especially a game like Palisades!”
    Jared shrugged his shoulders and scowled. “If I could’ve been here, I would have.”
    Coach Davis came into the room and leaned against a locker. “Not bad,” he said to the dejected players. “Today was their day, but we’ll see them again in a few weeks. Spencer, you ran into a machine today in Johnson. And their inside game was better than I’d anticipated. We had some bright spots. Louie and Dunk did a great job filling in underneath. Miguel was sharp. Jared was a little off.
    “It’s just one loss. It’s early. Be here at three thirty tomorrow, ready to work even harder.”
    Coaches were always saying stuff about every guy on the roster having an equal role, that the team won or lost together. That was true, Dunk knew it. But being out there at key moments—most of the first quarter and then again with the game on the line—you couldn’t beat that.
    He peeled off his jersey and wiped his chest with a towel. Coach’s bit of praise had softened the sting of the loss a little. Dunk had played an important part in this game.
    He left the gym with a large group of players heading uptown, including Spencer, Fiorelli, Lamont, and Jared. Most of them were angry about the loss. They didn’t notice that Jared was soon lagging behind.
    Dunk waited at the corner of Fourteenth and the Boulevard for Jared to catch up.
    “You hurt or something?” Dunk asked.
    Jared shook his head and quietly said, “No.”
    “Just one game,” Dunk said. “We’ll get ’em next time.”
    “Yeah.”
    “Could have gone either way. A shot here, a shot there, and we win it.”
    “Right.”
    Dunk wasn’t getting much of a response, so he quit trying. They walked the next couple of blocks in silence.
    They reached the large digital clock that jutted over the sidewalk from the Hudson City National Bank. Jared stopped and stared at the clock. Dunk looked at Jared, then up. Forty-one degrees at 5:57 P.M. The Boulevard was busy with people going in and out of the restaurants and commuters stepping off the buses and heading home.
    “Worst game I’ve played in a long time,” Jared finally said. “I got eaten up by guys I