Break for the Basket Read Free Page A

of them came forward. “Hi, Emmett! Want you to meet Mr. Long. He’s our coach.
     Mr. Long, this is Emmett Torrance. He’s joining our team.”
    Emmett did not need a second guess to know that this one was Robin Hood.
    Mr. Long smiled and stretched out a hand. “Fine,” he said. “Glad to have you with us, Emmett. Put on your sneakers and warm
     up with the boys.”
    Emmett put on his sneakers. He began to feel very strange again. On the court somebody passed the ball to him. It bounced
     out of his hands. He went after it, picked it up, and passed to Mickey. It was a poorly aimed throw. The ball hit the wall
     and bounced back onto the court.
    One of the boys laughed. Emmett blushed. That cold, terrible feeling crept back into him, stronger than ever.

4
    E MMETT WATCHED THE BASKETBALL pass from one player to another, until someone dribbled up to the basket and shot. He stood by like a store dummy. He felt
     foolish wearing his long pants and a shirt while the others wore their black satin uniforms.
    Had Robin Hood really meant it when he had asked Emmett to come to practice? Had he asked Emmett just to be nice, really hoping
     that Emmett would not come? Was that it? Emmett wished he knew, and found himself wondering whether he could trust Robin Hood.
     When practice was over Mr. Long got up and the team clustered around him.
    “Well, you boys are shaping up fine,” he said. “Maybe we’ll take the Eskimos Saturday morning.” He looked at Emmett. “Get
     a pair of black trunks and a jersey, young fella. Be here Saturday A.M ., nine-thirty sharp.”
    Emmett went home, the cold night wind biting his cheeks. Tiny flakes of snow began whipping against his face. He had forgotten
     that he had to have trunks and a jersey to play on a team.
    He was glad when he reached home and the comfortable warmth of the living room.
    “Well, how did you do?” his Dad asked. Dad was on his hands and knees on the floor. Both Charlene and Georgianne were on his
     back, “riding” him around.
    Emmett shrugged. “Okay.” He was ashamed to say that the boys had hardly thrown the ball to him, and that when he did have
     it he was so clumsy that he had acted as if he had never handled a basketball.
    “What about your suit?” said his Dad.
    Emmett looked up in surprise.
    “Well, you have to have a suit, don’t you?” said his Dad.
    Emmett nodded. “Yes. By Saturday morning. But —but where am I going to get a suit?” he stammered, hopelessly.
    “I’ll buy it for you,” said his Dad. “What color do you need?”
    “Black satin,” said Emmett, suddenly feeling very happy. “The trunks and jersey are black satin. And I want number 5 on my
     jersey. No one else has that number.”
    Friday evening, when Mr. Torrance came home from work, he had the suit with him. Penguins was printed in white letters across
     the front of the jersey, and the number 5 on the back. He had also bought a little brown bag in which Emmett could carry the
     uniform.
    Emmett arose early Saturday morning. The thought of playing basketball had been on his mind part of the night. He had even
     dreamed about it. He dressed and went into the kitchen. His mother and father were having toast, coffee, and eggs for breakfast.
    “Well, look at the early bird,” said Mom. “You don’t have to give me two guesses why you’re up so early.”
    Emmett smiled. He had cereal and milk, then sat around waiting for the minutes to pass. It was only eight o’clock. Boy, how
     slowly time dragged.
    “I’m going over to see Mr. G. a minute,” he said finally. “Is that all right?”
    His Mom shrugged. “He may still be asleep.”
    “Not him,” said Mr. Torrance. “He’s up at five-thirty every morning. He is a strange fellow if there ever was one.”
    Emmett could not understand why his Dad, or anybody else, talked that way about Mr. G. He couldn’t see what there was peculiar
     about Mr. G. at all. Except that Mr. G. had very thick red hair which he seldom