Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
NOAH
“This is as much fun as it was last week,” I tell Allie while watching the boys and girls scrimmage against each other.
“They look like they’re at war.” She points to Decan Flynn who is sprinting down the court to get the ball back from his sister.
“So, how was your first day?” I ask. Not only is it still super weird for me to be in Elk Lake, but it’s even stranger that Lorelai’s old friend is my new co-worker.
“It was okay,” she says. Looking up at me, she adds, “It was good. I think I’m really going to like teaching.”
“Kids are pretty cool,” I tell her. “I used to want six of my own.”
The look on her face is a cross between surprise and appalled with a touch of, what is
that, sadness? “And now?” she asks.
“I’m not sure I’d be up for the challenge of six. I think I’d be content with two or three.” Pointing toward the court, I add, “They’re a lot of work.”
“Yeah, I can see that.”
“How about you? How many kids do you want?”
The air feels like it’s just dropped ten degrees. “I’m not sure I want kids,” Allie answers.
“Really?” I suppose I’m inclined to think men are usually the ones on the fence about having a family, so that surprises me. Also, Allie seems like the ideal candidate for motherhood. Both sweet and nurturing with a touch of no-nonsense.
“Like you said, kids seem like a lot of work.” Allie takes a step away from me and blows her whistle. “Timeout!”
The girls run across the court toward her while the boys saunter over in my direction. “I can’t believe you’re letting them practice with us,” Kenny James moans. “It’s humiliating.”
“Why?” I ask. “Because they’re better than you?”
“Yes!” comes his unexpectedly honest reply. “Not only that but most of them are taller than me.”
I feel for him, so I say, “You’ve made some big improvements in the last week, Kenny.”
“Really?” He seems shocked. For as tough of a coach as I am, I have always prided myself on being generous with encouragement.
I may tell a kid that my grandmother plays better ball than he does, but in the next breath I do my best to build him up.
I’ve found that a balance of tough love and encouragement is a sure-fire recipe for success when trying to bring out the best in someone.
“Thanks, Coach,” Kenny says. “I’ve been practicing a lot at the park when I’m not here.”
Jake Fenton, my best shooting guard, jeers, “Peyton can still shoot rings around you.”
“Yeah,” Kenny groans. “She’s usually at the park at the same time I am.”
“Listen,” I tell the guys, “I don’t want you to see this as a boy against girl thing. I want you to view it as a competition among who the best players are. And honestly, in some cases that’s the girls.”
“Coach Fielden would have never made us play with girls,” Ashton Clark grumbles.
“Too bad Coach Fielden quit then,” I tell him. “Look, if you guys want to be the best you can be, the only way to do that is to play hard and learn from anyone you can. Even girls.”
“Leah Flynn thinks she’s better than us,” Jackson Harmon complains.
“If you don’t agree with her,” I tell him, “it’s up to you to prove her wrong.”
“Are you saying you think she’s better than me?” Oh yeah, his dander is good and up.
I shrug nonchalantly. “She’s good, and I don’t think you’ve shown you’re any better.”
The fire in Jackson’s eyes is enough to spark an inferno.
I blow my whistle to signal the end of the timeout and watch as the boys run back onto the court. Half look ready to rumble, and the other half are dragging like they’ve just run a mile in the sand against gale force winds. Conditioning is definitely something we’re going to need to work on.
I turn toward the players on the bench and pull five of them up to the line. “You’re in on the next foul,” I tell them.
Walking back to me, Allie announces, “The girls are getting frustrated.”
“How so?”
“They say the boys are playing dirty out there.”
“Do they want to practice separately?” I hope not, because I honestly think we need them.
Allie shakes her head. “No. They just wanted permission to fight back.” A slow grin takes over as she adds, “I gave it to them.”
“Good! They should give as good as they get.”
The game gets more interesting once the girls start retaliating and I’m excited to see their spark. Even so, they start to drag in the last half-hour of practice.
Allie blows her whistle and calls them over. After a brief discussion, she announces, “We’re going to call it for the day.”
Decan Flynn hisses, “We’re too much for you, huh?”
His sister Leah replies, “We only have seven players, idiot. You have fourteen so you’re all getting a break while we play through.”
The girls assume identical poses of defiance—hands on their hips and jaws rigid with anger. Allie breaks the tension by saying, “Everyone is doing great out there, but now you guys can get some time on your own.”
I watch as she follows her team into the locker room. Not only is Allie a nice person, she’s a great coach, which in my book is a winning combination. Even though we’re pitting the girls against the boys, she gives the boys’ team as much encouragement as her own, which is a sure sign she cares.
I turn back to the guys on the bench and send out another team to fill the vacancy. Both of my teams play harder than they ever have and it’s my guess that’s because they feel like they’ve got something to prove. I know all too well how that feels.
When I left my job in Chicago, it was out of anger that the school brought in a coach whose rank was to be above mine.
I was and still am determined to show them how wrong they were to assume anyone could take my place.
The only way I think I can do that is to get the Elk Lake Crappies into the finals.
Not that I have a snowball’s chance on the sun of doing that, but I’m still going to try.
After practice, I call my team over for a pep talk. “You guys have shown a lot of improvement in the last few practices.”
“You think we’re good then?” Ashton Finch, one of the guards, asks.
Shaking my head, I tell him, “No. But I think you can get good if you’re willing to put in the work.”
“We’re here every day after school!” one of the freshmen declares heatedly.
“And?” I ask.
“That’s a lot,” he says. “You know we have other stuff going on.” He lists, “Homework, friends, family stuff …”
Before he can add to his list, I tell him, “There are twenty-four hours in the day. Two hours of practice a day will probably make you better players. Three will definitely make you better, but four will guarantee a sizable climb in the ranks.”
“Four hours a day?” Alfonse shrieks. “Dude, that’s, like, a lot.”
“Go get your phone, Alfonse,” I tell him.
He looks confused but he still goes to his backpack to do my bidding. He opens the phone and punches in his code before handing it to me.
“Dress to Impress?” I ask in disbelief while looking at the apps on his homepage.
“It’s the best Roblox game out there,” he defends, not looking the least bit embarrassed.
Going to his settings, I look up his average screen time. “According to this, you spend four hours a day on your phone. Give two of that to basketball and there you go. You have plenty of time.”
While grumbles fill the air, Kenny steps forward and declares, “I say we do it. Those of you who don’t want to can surf the bench while the rest of us leave you in our dust.” Go, Kenny!
Decan joins in. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m not about to let my little sister show us up. That’s plain humiliating.”
Jackson pipes in. “I don’t like the idea of Leah thinking she’s better than me, either.”
“It’s decided then,” I say. “We’ll have mixed team practice from four to six, and I’ll make sure the gym is open from six thirty to eight thirty in the morning for those of you who want to get a leg up.”
“You want us to practice in the morning?” comes a whiny complaint from one of the newbies.
“Like I said,” I tell him, “it’s up to you if you’re going to add an early practice. But I won’t be democratic about my starting lineup. The best players will start, and I’ll only switch them out when they need a break.”
“When does this start?” Alfonse wants to know.
“Tomorrow morning,” I tell him. “And just so you know, I’m going to lose sleep because of this, and I’m not getting paid any more.”
“Then why are you doing it?” Alfonse asks.
“Because I got into coaching to make a difference. And sometimes that means making sacrifices. Now, you guys get going. I hope to see you all in the morning.”
I can tell by some of their expressions that won’t be the case, but so be it. These guys need to learn that the only way to get ahead is to believe they can and then put in the necessary hours to control their destiny.
Hopefully, their determination will also help me change my destiny. I want the Crappies to do well enough so we garner a decent climb in rank. Then I can prove to the administration of my old school they made a serious mistake when they tried to demote me.
I want them on their knees begging me to come back. My plan is to say no two or three times, until they double my previous salary. Then I’ll consider it. Whether I take it or not remains to be seen.