The Basket Counts (6 page)

Tom White, the Sun City Beetles’ tall, skinny right forward, grabbed the tap from center, dribbled around the keyhole to the
corner, and took a set. A perfect shot!

Rick took out the ball, passed to Skeet, and Skeet
carelessly passed to Caskie. A black-uniformed player swept in like a bat, intercepted the ball, and passed it to another
Beetle. The Beetle sank it. It was Tom White, the skinny forward.

“Skeet!” yelled Caskie. “Watch your passes!”

Rick took it out again. This time the Titans were more careful of their throws. They moved the ball down cautiously across
the center line: Caskie caught a pass from Stoney, started to break fast for the basket, then stopped abruptly as a guard
sprang in front of him. Mel trotted toward the corner, ready for but not expecting a pass from Caskie.

Then Caskie passed — directly to Mel! Mel caught the ball, drove in under the basket, leaped. A layup!

In quick, short passes the Beetles moved the ball to their front court. A small, stout-legged boy took a set from the foul
line and sank it. Rick took out the ball and passed to Skeet. Skeet passed to Stoney. Stoney dribbled across the center line
where a Beetle rushed at him, forcing Stoney to pass wildly. The ball sailed into the stands where one of the fans caught
it.

“Black’s ball!” shouted the ref.

A Beetle took it out. Mel flashed forward, stopped
the ball with his right hand, and dribbled it upcourt. Down the sideline opposite him was Caskie, running as hard as he could.
A Beetle came up alongside Mel, and Mel passed over his head to Caskie. Caskie caught the ball, dribbled twice toward the
basket, and shot. Two points!

Caskie ran up behind Mel. “Nice pass, Mel.”

Mel looked at him and grinned. “Thanks, Caskie.”

The Titans evened the score a few moments later. Beetles’ out. They brought the ball downcourt, bounce-passed to Tom White.
White leaped for a layup, missed. Skeet, Mel, and two Beetles jumped for the rebound. Mel got it, raced back upcourt, leaped.
The ball rippled through the net just as a hand struck his.

“One shot!” yelled the ref. “Basket counts!”

Voices called out to Mel. “Come on, Mel! Come on, kid! Make it!” Among them. Mel recognized Stoney’s voice.

Mel went to the free-throw line, took the ball from the referee, and measured the basket. Carefully, he shot.

The ball struck the backboard, rolled around the rim, and then off.

A
sea of arms. A clash of shoulders. A loud thump as a Titan fell on the floor. And then Skeet had the rebound. He dribbled
it away from under the basket and passed to Stoney. Stoney took a set. It hit! The horn blew at the same time, ending the
first quarter.

“You’re moving like clockwork.” Coach Thorpe was smiling proudly. “Skeet, you and Darryl keep close watch on Tom White. He’s
quick and accurate with his shots.”

“We’ll stop him, Coach,” Darryl promised, wiping his sweating face with a towel.

Mel looked for Caskie and saw him kneeling, tightening the laces of his sneakers. When Caskie rose Mel looked away, then back
again. But Caskie’s attention was directed at the coach.

The starting team led off in the second period. A
minute later Coach Tom Thorpe sent in substitutes. Pedro Dorigez missed a twenty-footer, then ran up to the basket, leaped,
caught the rebound, leaped again and sank it. A howl burst from the Titan fans.

“Yea, Dorigez!” yelled the cheerleaders.

The Beetles put on a scoring spree, picking up six points.

Then Darryl Brady intercepted a pass from a Beetle and heaved a long throw across the floor to Skeet. Skeet was tall but not
tall enough. Darryl’s pass sailed over his head into the crowd. Later Darryl sank a set shot to redeem himself, and then a
foul shot. The first half ended with the Titans leading by three points.

In the third quarter the Beetles came back strong and crept ahead of the Titans. They held their lead going into the final
period. Caskie had the ball, dribbling it in the corner with his man guarding him closely. Mel trotted up behind the man and
Caskie bounced the ball skillfully to him.

“Sink it, Mel!” he said.

Mel caught the pass, spun, and leaped at the same time. The ball cleared the rim perfectly.

The score on the electric scoreboard read 46–41,
Beetles’ favor, and there were five minutes left to play. The Beetles took out the ball and moved it across the center line,
care taken with each pass to prevent an interception. The Titans kept up a tight press, hugging their men as closely as possible
without risking a foul.

But then it happened. Mel’s man caught a high pass, turned quickly, and bumped into Mel.
Phreeet!
went the referee’s whistle, and up went a finger. Mel’s shoulders collapsed. The Beetle strode to the free-throw line, accepted
the ball from the ref, bounced it twice, then shot. In. 47–41.

Mel glanced at Caskie, expecting an icy stare. But Caskie wasn’t looking at him. Caskie was running toward the corner, his
attention on Stoney who was taking out the ball. A Beetle kept jumping in front of Stoney, arms waving up and down like wings
to stop Stoney’s pass in. Stoney bounced the ball under his right arm to Caskie and Caskie dribbled it upcourt.

Two men stopped him and Caskie passed. The ball was a perfect throw to Mel as Mel ran across the keyhole toward the basket.
He caught it and, without changing his speed, went up with the ball. A basket!

The crowd exploded with a yell.

The Titans’ close press kept the Beetles from advancing too near the basket. And the Beetles didn’t dare to take a long shot
for fear of missing and losing the ball to the Titans.

The Beetles kept throwing short passes and dribbling. Now and then the Beetle in possession of the ball would glance at the
clock, and Mel knew he was just waiting for the seconds to tick by. The less time there was for the Titans to dump in baskets,
the better. Mel knew it was up to the Titans to get the ball as often as they possibly could.

Then, suddenly, a Beetle drove in under the basket and shot. The ball struck the hoop, bounded off, and a field of hands went
up for the rebound. Mel grabbed it, pulled it out of a Beetle’s hands, and passed to Kim who dribbled the ball upcourt. Now
it was the Beetles who put a tight press on the Titans. Kim tried to bouncepass the ball to Pedro Dorigez, but the ball struck
his guard’s knee and glanced off toward the keyhole. Mel scooped it up, leaped to shoot, and saw Caskie running in from the
corner. He passed to Caskie and Caskie laid it up neatly against the boards. A basket!

Caskie smiled at Mel as they ran back to cover their men. The Titans continued to play well defensively, but were unable to
score enough to overtake the Beetles. The score was 49–46 when the game ended.

I
n the locker room, just before the Titans-Polaras game, Coach Thorpe said, “Let’s win this game, boys. It’s our last and it
will give us a good year —the most wins in the league. But win or lose we have a treat in store for us. A spaghetti dinner
at Mama Torelli’s! How about that?”

“All right!” the boys shouted.

“Do I love spaghetti!” Mel cried:

“With lots of sauce!” said Caskie, rubbing his stomach.

Five minutes after the game had begun the Titans realized that the Polaras were no pushover. They had lost only four games
during the entire season and apparently they were in no mood to drop another.

Once in the first quarter Mel fouled a Polara and committed another foul in the second. Both times the Polara player scored
his shot. Mel almost expected Stoney or Caskie to explode with some remark to him, but neither did. Matter of fact, he could
hardly remember the last time when either one had yelled a nasty remark at him.

He passed to Caskie a couple of times when he was close enough to the basket to shoot at it himself, but both times Caskie
was in a better position to shoot and both times he hit. They were playing well together.

When did Caskie really change his feelings toward me?
wondered Mel. He realized then that Caskie hadn’t changed all at once, but a little at a time. It had happened so gradually
that Mel had hardly noticed the change. And, apparently, neither had Caskie. But now, thinking back, Mel noticed the change
all right.

At the half the Polaras led, 31–25.

“Let’s get them this second half,” urged Caskie, plunking himself down beside Mel in the locker room.

Darryl looked at them and a broad smile came over his face. “You guys don’t think you’re going to do it alone, do you? The
rest of us are going to do it, too.”

In the third quarter Mel took advantage of every situation that came up, shooting when he had a good opportunity, passing
when he didn’t.

He sank three baskets and a foul shot for seven points. Caskie sank four. Stoney and Darryl scored six points between them.
But the Polaras scored eight baskets, sixteen points, to put them in the lead by one point at the end of the third period,
47–46.

The Polaras struggled hard to keep their lead in the fourth and final period. Darryl Brady sent the fans into hysterics when
he jumped as high as he could and hooked a shot that circled the rim twice before it dropped through the laces. Skeet sank
a twenty-footer, then dropped in two successive foul shots that put the Titans ahead of the Polaras, who had sunk only two
baskets so far.

With a minute to go the Polaras, fighting hard, scored a long one that put them ahead, 53-52. The Titan cheerleaders started
a loud, armswinging cheer:

One! Two! Three! Four!

Who are we for?

Titans!
T
ITANS
! TITANS!

Thirty seconds to go. Mel took a shot from the corner. It missed! Skeet went up for the rebound, and came down with both his
hands and a Polara’s hanging desperately onto the ball.

“Jump!” yelled the ref.

Skeet tapped the ball. Caskie got it, dribbled back, passed to Mel in the corner. Mel took a set. In! 54–53!

The Polaras took out the ball. Herb Jones fumbled it and Caskie recovered it. Mel glanced at the clock. Fifteen seconds to
go!

“Let’s hang on to the ball, Caskie!” Mel shouted.

Caskie grinned and tossed the ball back to him. Mel passed to Stoney, Stoney to Skeet, Skeet to Darryl as the Polaras jumped
back and forth, trying hard to grab the ball.

They couldn’t. The horn buzzed, long and loudly. The game was over. The Titans had won, 54–53.

The boys jumped up and down and flung their
arms around each other. Their cheers were almost drowned out by the yelling from the Titan fans.

“Can you believe it!” cried Mel.

“We said we’d do it, didn’t we?” said Caskie, sweat glistening on his smiling face.

“Sure did!” chuckled Darryl.

They ran to the Polara players and shook hands. The poor Polaras sure looked unhappy over their defeat. Then the Titans returned
to the middle of the floor where Coach Thorpe greeted them with a handshake for each one.

“Nice going, boys. Ready for that spaghetti dinner?”

“And how!” said Mel. “I’m starved!”

“So am I!” said Caskie, strolling off the floor with Mel and Stoney. “Let’s get showered and go!”

Baseball Flyhawk	Dive Right In
Baseball Turnaround	Double Play at Short
The Basket Counts	Face-Off
Body Check	Fairway Phenom
Catch That Pass!	Football Double Threat
Catcher with a Glass Arm	Football Fugitive
Catching Waves	Football Nightmare
Center Court Sting	The Fox Steals Home