Hooray! My Butt Left the Bench! #10 Page 4
“Will you look at that?” Sammy Perez shouted into the microphone. “Hank Zipzer makes the assist. Where did he come from?”
“That’s my grandson,” Papa Pete yelled from the stands. “And don’t you forget it!”
Frankie and Ashley ran up and high-fived me so hard that I nearly fell over.
“Let’s do that again,” Frankie said.
And we did, once Ashley stole the ball from the other team and chucked it over to me. Ms. Adolf couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She just stood by the side of the court with her whistle hanging off her lower lip. She was so shocked, she couldn’t even blow it.
“Okay, folks, we have a tie game on our hands,” Sammy’s voice blared. “We’ve got thirty-six seconds on the clock. Who’s going to get that trophy? Stay tuned to find out.”
Did he say “Stay tuned”? I wondered who Sammy thought he was talking to. We weren’t on TV.
The coach of PS 91 had called a time out. With his team surrounding him, he was talking up a storm. I saw him point at me. That felt great, until I realized that he had figured out that I was the Secret Weapon.
Our team gathered around me.
“Okay, Hank,” Ashley said. “They know that you’re the Secret Weapon. That means they’re going to try to stop you from getting the ball and passing it to Heather.”
Ms. Adolf had joined us on the court.
“As your coach, I suggest you keep it away from Henry,” she said.
“But, Ms. Adolf,” Frankie argued. “Hank just helped us make two amazing baskets and tie the game.”
“I heard that last week he knew all his spelling words, yet he failed his spelling test. Some people are just not good under pressure.”
Oh man! I was having the best time of my life, and she had to go and bring up spelling!
The whistle blew, and the team from PS 91 took the court. So did we.
At first, things were not going well. Griffin, their best player, had the ball. Frankie tried to steal it, but couldn’t. Griffin dribbled down to the basket and took a shot. We all held our breath as we watched it fly through the air toward the hoop.
It looked like it was going in, until it bounced off the rim. Ashley jumped as high as she could and grabbed it out of the air. She whipped around so fast that her glasses flew off her face. She couldn’t see where to pass it, but heard Frankie’s voice shouting, “Over here, Ashweena!”
She made a perfect pass. Frankie got the ball, and I raced to my Secret Weapon position just as his pass arrived. I had it! I had the ball! The clock was ticking. We had twelve seconds left in the game.
But there was one little problem. Actually, there were five big problems. All five members of the PS 91 team were racing toward me. In no time, they were in front of me, arms up, blocking me from making a pass. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Heather waiting for the ball, but there was no way I could get it to her.
Oh wait. Yes there was.
I bent over and bounced the ball backward through my legs. That surprised the PS 91 team. No one was expecting that move, not even me!
“Heather! It’s behind him!” Frankie yelled.
Heather and I were on the same wavelength. She darted for the ball and grabbed it. In one swift move, she turned to the basket, quickly aimed, and shot the ball.
Boom! It was a perfect basket.
Our side of the bleachers cheered so loud, you could hardly hear the buzzer go off. But it did go off.
We had won the game.
And the three-peat.
And the biggest trophy you’ve ever seen.
I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I, Hank Zipzer—PS 87’s Secret Weapon—was part of the winning team.
Wow, that was sweet.
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