Athlete vs. Mathlete Read Online Free Page A

the action.
    Russell squeezed in next to me and reached for some popcorn. He scarfed down his handful like an animal (and I don’t mean a magical unicorn). Then he leaned back on the couch like my middle cushion had always been his spot.
    â€œHere we go,” Dad said, as the Blazers and Suns lined up for the tip-off.
    The Blazers got first possession, and I could tell right away that they were in it to win it. Carl Walters made a three-pointer, then snagged a rebound off the Suns like two seconds later. Walters passed to Jenkins, who passed to one of the new guys, DeShawn Williams, who hit a layup for two.
    Dad and I high-fived and I turned to give Russell five, too.
    He missed, as usual.

    About halfway through an awesome first quarter, the Blazers had a fourteen-point lead.
    Dad turned to my brother. “What do you think, Russ?”
    â€œUh … it’s good,” Russell said.
    He was holding his book so tightly, his knuckles were whiter than the rest of him. Like it was taking every bit of his strength not to open it.
    Poor Russ.
    During the second quarter, I tried to make the game more interesting by telling him who some of the players were and giving a bit of background on them.
    â€œCool,” Russell said, when I told him about the Tim Camden trade.
    What?
    â€œNo,” I said, shaking my head. “Not cool at all.”
    â€œBut they got two players in exchange for one,” Russell pointed out.
    Geez, it wasn’t about
math
.
    â€œYeah, one awesome guy for two old guys.”
    Russ pointed at the TV. “One of the ‘old guys’ just scored.”
    â€œThat’s right,” Dad said, pumping a fist in the air.
    I sighed. “I know, but—”
    â€œAnd I’d like to point out that these
old guys
are just a couple of years younger than I am,” Dad added.
    â€œ
Exactly
,” I agreed. “That’s the problem.”
    â€œOuch!” Dad groaned.
    â€œYou know what I mean,” I told him. “Tim Camden’s only been in the league for three years. He hasn’t even hit his prime yet. They were nuts to trade him.”
    Russ reached for more popcorn. “I thought he didn’t get along with the other players.”
    How did he know
that
?
    â€œThat’s true,” Dad said. “And no matter how good a player is, he needs to respect the rest of his team.”
    â€œSure,” I said. “But last season we would have lost a bunch of games without Camden. Like when we played the Lakers and he made the three-pointer, right at the buzzer.”
    â€œI remember.” Dad nodded. “But I also remember how much he cost the team in the second quarter. We could have had a nice lead at the end, if he hadn’t been fouling like crazy.”
    He had a point.
    â€œI like that DeShawn Williams,” Russ said. “I think the Trail Blazers—”
    â€œBlazers,” I corrected. “Fans just say Blazers.”
    Russ nodded. “Okay, I think the
Blazers
made a good choice.”
    â€œI’m with you, Russ,” Dad said, grinning at him.
    I rolled my eyes.
    Like my brother had any idea what he was talking about.
    â€œHow do you even know about Williams?” I asked.
    Russ shrugged. “The sports section was mixed in with the newspaper pages I’m taking to my meeting tomorrow. I must have scanned a couple of articles without realizing it.”
    I rolled my eyes and shoved some popcorn in my mouth. I was better off focusing on the TV.
    The Blazers were making some awesome plays, and even though it was a close and exciting game, Russ kept checking his watch. I finally asked, “Are you late for something?”
    He sighed and tightened his grip on the book. “How can one quarter of a forty-eight-minute game possibly last more than twenty minutes?”
    Math again?
    â€œTime-outs and foul shots,” I explained. “Are you even
watching
?”
    â€œMy point is that it