Friday Nights by Maureen Holohan

Author:Maureen Holohan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster Children's Publishing
Published: 2001-08-22T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Icringed when I saw Eddie slip through the doorway at our practice on Wednesday night. Of course he couldn’t just torment me for a mere five or six hours at the park during the day. Now the bully had taken the night shift as well to be an official, full-time pain in my neck.Unfortunately Eddie was the least of our concerns. We didn’t have a full team again. Jessica and Mary had pulled another no-show, and Wil was out of town. As we finished up our last shooting drill, the fathers finally broke from a strategy discussion on the sideline. My big ears told me the topic was Beef Potato. With Wil absent, the question that lingered was who would guard him.

The boys had only four players until J.J. burst through the door.

“Hey, hey,” he said as he strutted onto the floor. “I heard y’all needed some competition.”

“Who did you bring?” Penny joked. We all laughed, and even J.J. struggled to conceal his grin.

“You ladies shouldn’t be laughing,” he said. “‘Cause you know Beef is going to eat you for dinner. None of you can stop him.”

The mood suddenly grew serious. We all looked around after J.J. passed.

“Who’s gonna guard Beef?” Penny asked.

Everyone looked around at each other hoping someone would volunteer.

“I will,” Rosie said as she shrugged her thin shoulders and smiled up at us. We all started laughing again.

Mr. Harris called out the matchups. “Molly, you take J. Penny, you guard Mike. Angel, you take Eddie. Rosie, you’ve got Marvin, and Anita, you have Beef.”

“Ugh,” Anita moaned.

Our six-foot-tall center had to have known it was coming. We had no other alternative. She was the only one who stood a chance at wrestling with Beef’s strength and skill.

“Be tough,” Mr. Harris told her as we all walked out on the floor.

Beef, as usual, played solid and respectable basketball. He hustled and scrapped for every rebound. When J.J. started lighting it up from the outside, it lessened Beef’s workload underneath.

“Get a hand up on J.!” my dad yelled at me. I did and J.J. simply passed it inside to Beef for a layup.

“Come on, girls!” Mr. Jones screamed. I hadn’t seenRosie’s father walk in the gym, but we all heard him loud and clear.

“Shoot the ball, Rosie! Oh, come on! Don’t let him score!”

I looked over at Rosie and watched as she stared at her feet.Why does he have to be so hard on her?We were all trying our best. I never understood how coaches and players could think shouting angry words would make someone play better.

“You got it, Rosie,” I said. “Nice try.”

The next play down court, Beef grabbed a rebound and turned to outlet the ball to Eddie. His sharp elbow caught poor Anita square in the chin. She screamed and buckled over. My dad sprinted out onto the floor. Beef stood over her with his hand resting on her back. I thought he was gonna cry.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Beef gasped. “I didn’t mean it, Mr. O.

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