KIM looked at the scoreboard. ARROWS—41, COMETS—43.
He turned back to the, game and leaned his elbows on his bare knees. He had played the first quarter and had scored six points. That wasn’t bad. But he could not understand Coach Joe Stickles.
The coach had started Bobbie Leonard in Kim’s place in the second quarter. The third quarter had just begun, and Bobbie was still in the game. However, the coach must know what he was doing.
Allan Vargo, the Arrows’ center and tallest player, dribbled the ball down-court. Just before the foul line and to the right of it, he came to a quick stop. The Comet player who guarded him flashed by. Allan lifted the basketball above his head, his fingers and thumbs spread far apart. With a spring of his long, thin body the ball left his hands and sailed in an arch for the basket.
The ball dropped in without touching the rim! For a second it fluttered against the net, then fell through.
The crowd’s yell filled the school gym. Allan’s shot had tied the score!
Kim felt a tingle of excitement. So far the Arrows had lost two games and won one. If they took this game they would have two wins and two losses, and they would be in third place in the Small Fry Basketball League.
But Kim didn’t really care too much about that. He didn’t even care too much whether they ended in first place, or last. What he wanted more than anything was just to play basketball.
“Kim!”
He met Coach Joe Stickles’s sharp gray eyes. The coach was a small, chunky man with very little hair on his head.
“Report to the bench, Kim, and take Bobbie’s place!”
“Okay!”
Kim reported to the scorekeeper. A few seconds later the referee blew his whistle and Kim ran onto the court.
He tapped Bobbie on the shoulder. “Your turn to warm the bench, Bobbie!” He smiled.
“Okay!” said Bobbie. He was a small, husky-legged boy with a crew cut. He pointed to the man Kim was to cover, and ran off the court.
The whistle blew again for time in. The referee tossed the ball to a Comet player standing outside the white line. Since he was Ron Tikula’s man, Ron covered him.
Kim tried to watch the boy with the ball and the boy he guarded at the same time. His man was on the go every second, darting every which way like a rabbit. Kim tried to keep between the two players so that if the ball was thrown to his man he could catch it.
All at once his man leaped in front of him and caught the ball! Kim scampered after him. His sneakers slipped and he almost fell. He caught himself and went after the Comet player, who was running upcourt. Kim’s solid white legs looked like bright winking lights. His thick blond hair bobbed on his head as if it would shake off.
He couldn’t let that man make a basket. He just couldn’t. The Comets would shoot ahead and Coach Joe Stickles would blame him.
Kim caught up with the Comet player. He tried to get his right hand around the boy’s waist to hit the ball. A loud smack! sounded. He had slapped the boy’s wrist instead of the ball.
The referee’s whistle pierced the hall. A finger went up high.
Kim stared. A foul!