With my hood up and head down, I zombie-walked to the bus. Just like the rest of Clifton United.
After our win-for-the-ages against Front Street Fury, we took the court for our next game thinking the Jack Twyman Spring Showdown was our tournament. It didn’t matter that we were facing the Renegades, the team that destroyed us by thirty in the opener. Clifton United was now a team of destiny.
Maybe not.
That thirty-point blowout looked like a nail-biter compared to what the Renegades did to us in the rematch. The Renegades scored the first nineteen points of the game. Nineteen! When you look up at the scoreboard and see your team losing 19–0, it makes you want to—
“Hey, pal!”
I turned. My father was jogging over.
“I’m glad I caught you,” he said.
“We got destroyed.”
“That’s one way of putting it,” he said. “But don’t let that be your only takeaway from this weekend. It’s certainly not mine.”
I flipped down my hood and shook out my dreads.
“A lot of wonderful happened this weekend, Rip,” he said. “Once you give yourself a moment to process everything, I think you’ll see that.”
“Maybe.” I shrugged.
He placed a hand on my shoulder. “Let me give you another takeaway,” he said. “Your nickname.”
“Yeah, why did you say that back at the elevator?” I asked.
“Your nickname didn’t come from Rip Hamilton of the Pistons.”
“What do you mean?”
He smiled. “When you were little, you used to rip your diapers off all the time and walk around butt-naked. So your mom and I started calling you Rip.”
“No way.”
“Ask her.” He squeezed my shoulder. “And just so you know, there’s a nice surprise waiting for you back home.”
“What is it?”
“You’ll see when you get there. It’s from the both of us.”
“You’re not going to tell me?”
“It’s been in the works for a while now. I’m looking forward to watching you with it when I’m back for good in the fall.”
I let out a puff. “I’m glad you came this weekend.”
“I am, too, Rip.” He patted the side of the United Express. “Go join your teammates. I’ll see you later, pal.”
“Not if I see you first,” I said, waving and smiling.
My dad smiled back.
When he still lived with us, on his way out of my room after he tucked me in, he would always say, “See you later.” Then I would always say, “Not if I see you first.” It was our thing.
Maybe one day it would be our thing again.
* * *
I sat in the back with the rest of Clifton United. Red had the window seat next to me. Diego and Speedy sat across the aisle. But on this bus ride, there was no talk of cannonball contests, chicken fights, or peeing in the bathroom. There was very little talk at all.
We didn’t want to go out like this. Not after the way we beat Front Street Fury. We really thought we were going to win the rematch with the Renegades, not lose 48–11. There’s nothing fun about losing 48–11.
Don’t let that be your only takeaway from this weekend.
The Renegades didn’t just destroy us. They humiliated us. They weren’t even trying to run up the score.
A lot of wonderful happened this weekend.
I popped out of my seat and leaped over Red into the aisle. “How are your ankles?” I said to Diego.
“What?”
I stood over him. “Your ankles?” I said, smiling. “The ones that kid Kasaan broke blowing by you.”
“Ooh!” a couple kids said.
“First, he broke them on that inbounds play,” I said. “Then he broke them before the half. He left you sitting on your butt at the top of the key.”
“He’s right,” Mega-Man said, grinning. “That kid absolutely—”
“What are you smiling about?” I leaped onto my seat and pointed down at Mega-Man in the row behind me. “Remember what that kid Freddie did to you?”
“I do, Mason Irving,” Red said.
“Me too,” Maya said, stepping to Mega-Man.
“We all do.” I pretended to block a shot. “You got posterized!”
“Posterized!” Maya added.
“They schooled you, too,” Mega-Man said to me.
“Don’t I know it. That kid Andre stripped me clean in the backcourt, Carmelo stole two of my passes, and—”
“Carmelo stole four of your passes, Mason Irving,” Red interrupted.
“Why are you counting?” I held up my hands. “Whose friend are you?”
“Everyone’s!” Red basketball-smiled. “I’m everyone’s friend.”
Before we knew it, we were all talking and laughing and having fun again. Just like we should be. Yeah, we were bummed about the way we lost, but there was nothing we could do about it now. A lot of wonderful happened this weekend. There were a lot of takeaways.
* * *
By the time we got back to RJE, it was almost dark. Some of the kids ended up falling asleep, but most of us talked and joked the rest of the way.
As we pulled into the front circle, I looked out the window and spotted Mom and Suzanne. They were standing by Suzanne’s SUV with a few other parents. I recognized most of them, but I was surprised to see one of them: Mega-Man’s father, Coach Crazy.
“What are you looking at, Mason Irving?” Red asked as the bus slowed to a stop.
I pointed but didn’t answer.
“Is that who I think that is?” he asked.
I nodded.
As Clifton United made their way off the bus, I knocked knuckles with my teammates as they passed. When it was Mega-Man’s turn, I held out my fists.
“Nice playing with you,” I said.
“You too, Rip.” He topped both of them. “See you later.”
I nodded once and smiled. “Not if I see you first.”
I turned back toward the window and watched as my teammates reunited with their families. A-Wu ran up to her parents. She kissed her mom first and then her father. Diego greeted his uncle with a high five and a hug. Speedy gave her mom a hug, too. Her mom kissed Speedy on the top of her head.
Then it was Mega-Man’s turn. He raced over to his father, dropped his bag before he reached him, and gave him a big hug. When they let go, his father ruffled Mega-Man’s hair. At this moment, his father looked nothing like Coach Crazy, nothing like the Coach Crazy I knew.
Nothing like the Coach Crazy I thought I knew.