Chapter 17 #2
“Tim, you’re up,” he said, and the junior center moved to face the two lines of players.
“Packard in the house,” hollered Caleb, clapping enthusiastically, his enthusiasm spreading through the ranks of the other players.
Carson watched Tim, nodding with satisfaction, liking the quiet leadership the athlete displayed.
Once the stretching portion was done, they started with full-court dribble moves, followed by fast-break drills. He liked to follow those with a three-man weave, alternating five and three passes, and then break the team into trios for two-on-one competitive drills.
It was at that point that he nodded to Jackson. “It’s yours.”
His assistant nodded and blew the whistle, indicating for the trios to move to various spots in the gym. Carson went to where Drake stood, his attention focused on his hand as he studied his fingernails, clearly bored.
“You’re with me, Drake,” he said, motioning for the student to come with him. It took everything Carson had not to turn and confirm the athlete followed him. It would be humiliating if Drake had stayed put and would reflect on his authority in a negative fashion.
He exited the gym and went into the empty locker room. Taking a seat on the bench, he saw Drake entering, eyeing him warily.
“Sit,” he said, not bothering with the niceties of inviting the player to take a seat.
“I’ll stand.”
Carson studied him a long moment. “Sit. Not a request.”
Thankfully, Drake did as asked.
“I had an interesting conversation with Mrs. Smith today,” he began.
Drake rolled his eyes as only a teenager could. “What did that bitch have to say? Nothing good about me, I’ll bet.”
“No swearing,” he said firmly. “You know that. We’ve been over that as a team. You’re to conduct yourself in a manner that reflects well on our team and this school.”
The boy simply stared at him.
“You’re failing her class, Drake.”
He shrugged. “British lit sucks. She acts like Shakespeare is God’s gift to mankind.”
“Many literary scholars would agree with her,” he said. “It’s not all Shakespeare, though.”
“It’s boring. That’s what it is. Paradise Lost. Gulliver’s Travels. Who cares about shit like that?”
He ignored the cursing. “You better—because you have to be passing to play.”
“I’ll do what I need to do,” he said, glancing up as if counting ceiling tiles were more interesting than talking with his coach.
“The best players lead by example, Drake. Great leaders work harder than others. And from what you’ve shown me so far, you’re not a great player—and you have zero work ethic.”
Drake’s eyes dropped, and he now glared at Carson.
“I’m not some rah-rah cheerleader. It’s not my job to rally the team.
That’s on you, Coach. I’m the best player out there.
I have the best free throw and three-point percentage on the team.
I can maneuver around anyone. Dribble with each hand equally well.
When it’s clutch time, the boys know to always get me the ball.
I’ve got ice in my veins. I’ll win it for us every time. ”
“That’s not enough.”
The player looked confused. “What do you mean? I’m the cream of the crop. All-District as a sophomore and junior. They’re predicting I’ll be named Player of the Year for our district. I’ve already had scholarship offers.”
“You haven’t played a minute under me—and that’s what counts, Drake. You’re the last out of the locker room. You go through drills with your head elsewhere. When you get the ball, you’re a typical ball hog and never pass to anyone else. That’s not being a team player.”
Another eye roll. “Oh, I get it. This is the There’s no ‘I’ in Team talk. I’m supposed to go along to get along. Pass the ball even when I’ve got the shot. Well, I don’t need any of that, Coach. My reputation is solid. The boys know they can count on me.”
Carson gazed at the teenager steadily. “I don’t know that.
You haven’t shown me that I can count on you.
You could be so much more than you’re showing now, Drake.
You’re a smart, smart guy, both academically and as an athlete.
Give your best in the classroom and on the court.
Show me just how talented you are. You can be a tremendous leader and take this team deep into the playoffs. ”
Drake sat there. Not taking in what Carson had said, merely sitting as if he tolerated his coach’s presence. Carson stared back, not saying a word.
Finally, Drake said, “Are we done?”
“First, you need to apologize to Mrs. Smith. You were incredibly rude, telling her that you didn’t want to waste your time on daily assignments.”
“They’re stupid. And that’s only twenty percent of my grade. I can make it up in other ways.”
His gaze and voice level, Carson said, “I will be checking with Mrs. Smith—and all of your teachers—on a daily basis. The reports I receive from them better reflect that you are doing your work. Living up to your potential. Acting in a polite fashion. And as far as practice goes, I want you to treat it as the most important part of your day. Show me you’re in, all in, going forward. ”
“Or else?” Drake asked, defiance in his tone. “What are you going to do, kick me off the team?”
“Only you can do that. For now, I’m letting you know that you’ll be sitting out the scrimmage next Tuesday. Riding the bench.”
“You can’t do that,” the teenager shouted. “I’m the star player.”
Carson stood. “And I’m the head coach and AD. You’re oozing BA, Drake. Bad Attitude. I want you to go back to the gym and turn things around so that you and this team can have the year you’re meant to have.”
Drake shot to his feet. “I’m supposed to go out there and smile and work my ass off—and still not play?”
“That’s exactly what I want you to do. Show me you love basketball. Your teammates. Show me you can be the leader we all know lies within you. Be the example that every guy on the team will follow and want to emulate.”
“You’re crazy. My mom will make mincemeat of you,” Drake warned.
“Marge doesn’t play for me, Drake. You do. And if you want to be a part of this team, you’ll start acting like a team member.”
“Go fuck yourself, Coach.”
Drake stormed from the locker room. Carson couldn’t say that he was surprised, but he would stick to what he said. Drake needed to be a team player.
Else he wasn’t going to be on this team at all.
He returned from the locker room, seeing Jackson had half the players working on one-on-one in the lane, while the other half was doing two-on-two stop seams. Joining his assistant, he folded his arms and watched for a full minute before Jackson broke the silence.
“I see Drake didn’t return with you. Is he off the team?”
“That’s up for Drake to decide.”
Carson took over practice after that. He could see the boys watching him, looking at one another questioningly. He ended the final drill and asked them to go and sit in the bleachers.
“A good practice today. Everyone looked sharp.” He paused, looking across the group of teens. “And I know you’re all wondering where Drake is.”
No one spoke.
“Over the years, my philosophy of basketball has come down to a few things. First, I believe in the basics. Fundamentals such as dribbling, passing, rebounding, and shooting are important. If you know the fundamentals, it doesn’t matter what offense I run.
You’ll be a good shooting team, and you’ll score and win games because of that preparation. ”
He waited a moment, seeing a few teens nodding in agreement.
“Second, I believe in everyone being his best. Those are the kinds of teams who come together and gel. They may not have a superstar, but every player contributes. Every player has a role on the team and embraces it. I like a player who wants to grow on and off the court into being the best person he can be. All of you have tremendous potential within you. Some have more physical talent than others, but everyone here can put in the time and sweat and play hard. Play to win.”
He gazed out over the group. “Work hard. Play to the best of your ability. Be prepared. Learn the playbook forward and backward. Be generous with the ball when it’s called for.
Support one another, both as teammates and off the court.
If you do those things, you’ll be proud of yourself and proud of whatever we accomplish together this year. ”
Carson took a deep breath. “Drake will need to decide if he wants to be a part of this team or not. I won’t tolerate laziness in practice or the classroom.
No one player is above any other. That’s what being a team is all about.
Together, you can accomplish so much more than you can on your own. Any questions?”
Again, no one spoke. It disappointed him a little, but he knew they must be shell-shocked with the idea that the most talented athlete on the team might not be playing alongside them this year.
“Okay, then. Hit the showers. Take some time to relax and enjoy Bayfest this weekend. And when you show up on Monday for practice, give me your all. Pirates on three.”
Suddenly, players scampered from the bleachers, eager looks on their faces. Carson thrust out his hand, and it was covered by a stack of other hands.
“One, two, three,” he shouted, his players hollering “Pirates!”
As he stepped away, surprisingly the players remained huddled together, causing him to wonder what was going on. Then they broke up, the majority of them leaving the gym, and he caught several smiling at him. Tim and Caleb stayed behind, lingering after the other players had gone.
“You need to talk with me?” he asked.