Read Online Home Court by Amar'e Stoudemire - Free Book Online

like that, it was official.
    â€œTo seven again?” I said.
    â€œYeah,” he said. “Let’s get this over with fast, so I can start enjoying my new court.”
    â€œWin by two?” I said.
    â€œNope,” he said. “First team to seven wins, simple as that.”
    Man, I thought. He sounds really confident, even with all these eyes on him.
    â€œFirst team to seven!” Marcus called out, in case anyone in the back hadn’t heard.
    There was no backing out now. There were only two ways to leave this court now: as winners or forever.

W e were down 0–1 faster than I could say “Uh-oh.” The other team ran a slick pick-and-roll that forced us to switch up our defense in the middle of the play. Deuce wound up on Yeti, who was too big for him, and Mike wound up on Ledge, who was too quick. They practically had their choice of how to score, so of course they chose option (C) None of the above.
    As soon as the ball went to Yeti, I left Carlos to try to help Deuce out. And as soon as I did that, Yeti threw it back to Carlos, who was already sprinting to the hoop. He launched himself up toward the rim and dunked it. It wasn’t exactly a tomahawk jam. If his fingers hadn’t been so long, he might not have gotten it through at all. But it didn’t matter: They schooled us in about three different ways on the play and finished it with a dunk.
    Now the ooooooh’s going through the crowd were for them. Kids were standing around the edge of the court, sitting on the grass, or hanging from the fence. Some of them were our friends, but some of them I barely knew.
    â€œNot good,” I said to my teammates.
    â€œHold up,” I heard. It was Junior. “Huddle up for a second, guys.”
    â€œWho are you?” barked Carlos.
    â€œI’m their coach!” said Junior. I guess that was good enough for Carlos — that and Junior’s size — because he didn’t say another word about it.
    â€œNow I remember where I’ve seen these guys,” my coach/brother said to us. “They’re part of a travel team from the next town over. I’ve seen ’em play. That’s why they were so smooth on that pick-and-roll. So listen up: You’ve got to work through that pick, and you can’t double switch like that.”
    We listened as he broke it down for us. I clapped my hands hard as we left the huddle. Then Deuce checked the ball back to Ledge for their next possession.
    â€œWe need a stop!” said Mike, and he got us one the hard way. Yeti ran over him on the way to the hoop. Mike had position and he didn’t move his feet at all, not so much as tapping a toe. It was an offensive foul on Yeti, a charge all the way. But that didn’t mean we were going to get the call. They hadn’t given us any the last game.
    â€œThat was a foul!” said Mike, swiping dirt and pebbles off his backside as he got to his feet.
    â€œNah, nah, nah,” Carlos said. “Your feet were —”
    A booming voice cut him off: “That was a foul, man!”
    I didn’t even have to turn to know those words came from the big, barrel chest of my older bro. Then I heard another strong voice chime in from the crowd. “That was a charge all the way!” called Timmy.
    Carlos got a look on his face like he’d just whiffed someone’s sweaty socks, but he said, “Yeah, okay. I guess we’ll give you that one.”
    Deuce and I high-fived Mike. “Nice play,” I said.
    â€œThanks,” he said. “But I don’t know how many more of those I can take.”
    Our first possession wasn’t half as precise as theirs. We passed it around the perimeter a few times to get in the flow of things. Finally, on the third pass, one of them got lazy. Ledge was sort of laying off Deuce, so I put something extra on my pass. It was a bullet, and Ledge was still out of position when Deuce caught it. That gave our