Sharif’s dad had brought some of the guys in his van. Mrs. Chen had brought some, along with Maria, who’d told Lucas she wasn’t missing this for anything. Billy’s dad had brought the rest of the team.
The players stood in front of the library, as if they were getting ready to play a big game. In a way, that’s exactly what they were doing.
Or maybe they were about to hold a board meeting of their own.
Lucas had thought about reading the speech he’d written the night before. But he knew he didn’t need notes. He knew what he wanted to say by heart. Maybe because he was speaking from the heart.
“Since my grandfather isn’t here to speak for himself,” Lucas said. “I guess it’ll be okay for me to speak for him.”
He looked at Mr. Dichard, who nodded, but didn’t look very happy about it. Then Lucas gave a quick look at his mom. She just smiled. He’d told her his plan about his teammates the night before. He’d shown her his speech before they’d made the ride over here. After she read it, she told him that if he even changed a single word, he was grounded.
“It’s an even better paper than you wrote for Mr. Collins, if you ask me,” she’d said.
Lucas began by thanking all the board members for everything they did for their team, and all the other boys’ and girls’ teams in town basketball. He thanked his teammates for being there because, he said, that’s what teammates did, they were always there for one another.
He thanked Mrs. Moretti for everything she’d done while Gramps had been away.
Lucas took a deep breath.
Time to get to it.
“What I really want to say, for myself and for my teammates, is that for everything the grown-ups have done for our team, it’s still our team,” he said. “If there’s one thing my gramps has stressed over the last two seasons, it’s that it’s the players’ game. And these games are about us, not you.”
He had teammates on both sides of him. He looked to his left, then his right. Now they were the ones nodding approval.
“My grandfather is a huge part of our team,” Lucas said. “We know that better than anybody in this room. We wouldn’t be where we are, and who we are, without him. It’s why all of us on this team don’t think it should be up to you whether he finishes the season out, or not. We think it should be up to us. We’re here because we think the ones who should get to vote tonight are us.”
“Now hold on a second,” Mr. Dichard said.
“No,” Lucas’s mom said, standing in the back of the room, “you hold on, Ed.”
Lucas said to his teammates, “All those in favor of my gramps getting to coach the championship game, raise your hand.”
One by one, in formation, the Claremont Wolves raised their hands.
Lucas raised his last. “There’s one more thing I want to say.”
He cleared his throat. He wished he had some water. Bad time to get dry throat.
“Nobody would ever say that my grandfather didn’t make a huge mistake a long time ago, one he’s regretted ever since. But the last time he was with us, he talked to us about second chances. I heard Mr. Dichard talk about a crime before. Now I’m just a kid. But to me, the biggest crime would be if you all don’t give my grandfather a second chance.”
No one heard the door open again. The only one who saw Gramps standing in the back of the room was Lucas, because he was staring right at him.
They smiled at each other.
Now Lucas wasn’t talking to the other grown-ups in the room, or to his teammates.
He was talking to Sam Winston.
“I kept thinking that my gramps was the one who owed me an apology when I found out what he did,” Lucas said. “But I’m the one who owes him an apology. For not accepting his when he offered it to me.”
He walked to the back of the room and hugged Gramps, who hugged him back. No one said anything in the library until Mr. Dichard did.
“I guess Lucas is right,” he said. “One vote tonight is enough.”
The Claremont Wolves cheered.