It's a Doggy Dog World by Tommy Greenwald

Author:Tommy Greenwald
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.
Published: 2016-11-08T05:00:00+00:00

FACT: If someone made a list called TEN THINGS THAT WILL NEVER HAPPEN TO JIMMY BISHOP, “Being cheered on by cheerleaders” would probably be at the top.

YET, THERE THEY WERE.

We had cheerleaders!

They weren’t at the last game because they only cheered at weekend games, but there they were—ten girls with skirts and pom-poms, jumping up and down and shouting our names as if we were their favorite people in the world.

I was thrilled, but my mom wasn’t. “I find cheerleading a hopelessly old-fashioned tradition,” she said as we saw them practicing. “Why is it that the girls are always cheering for the boys? Why aren’t the boys cheering for the girls?”

My dad snorted. “Because that would just be wrong, that’s why.”

“You’re a pig,” my mom told him.

“That’s a little harsh,” he told her back.

“Is not.”

“Is too.”

“What is this, first grade?” complained Misty. She was there completely and totally against her will, by the way. I knew that because before we left the house, she told me, “I’m going to this game completely and totally against my will.”

“Hi, Jimmy!” squealed a few of the cheerleaders as I got out of the car. “Good luck today!”

“Thanks!” I told them. “I’m going to do my best!”

My sister looked like she was about to throw up.

I ran out to join my teammates, and we began stretching. The team we were playing, Glenvale, pulled up in their bus and started warming up on the other half of the field. Coach Knight pulled me aside and pointed at a huge kid wearing number 27.

“He’s the one you have to watch,” Coach said. “He’s got a wicked lefty shot.”

“Got it, Coach.”

“Go get ’em out there!” And he smacked me on the top of my helmet, which stung a little bit, not that I was going to say anything about it.

Just before the game began, I looked up into the crowd.

“I already checked to see if Daisy and Irwin came after all,” Baxter said. “They didn’t.”

“Whatever.” I picked up my stick. “We’ve got a game to win.”

The game was close. That big lefty was a great player, and he scored against me in the first and second quarters. But no one else did, and at halftime, the score was tied, 2–2.

We all huddled up on the sideline to get something to drink and listen to the coach give us our pep talk. “So far, so good!” urged Coach Knight. “I like how hard you guys are working out there! But the one thing I need you to do is—”

CRACK!!!

Coach was interrupted by the loud, unmistakable sound of wood cracking. We all looked around and realized the only wood anywhere around us was the bench we were all sitting on.

Then we heard it again … three short, sharp sounds.

CRACK … CRACK … CRACK!!!

And in an instant, the left side of the bench completely collapsed, and three kids—Marty Linsky, Jeff Provost, and Cedric Feathers—crashed to the ground in a heap.

“OWWW!” they all hollered.

The rest of us all jumped up like

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