Ishmael and the Hoops of Steel Read Online Free

His nickname at school was ‘Andre the Giant’. Miss Tarango could probably have parked her little red and black Mini in one of his shoes.
    Anyway, after telling us what she hoped we could all achieve in the year ahead, Miss got down to tackling some of the ‘truckload of administration details’ that Mr Barker had warned us about. First up, we found out that the good news about Miss T being our coordinator was balanced by the bad news that therefore she wouldn’t be taking one of the Homeroom groups. We also found out that last year’s groups had been totally reorganised. We all knew what that meant. There was virtually no chance Razz, Scobie, Bill, Ignatius and me would all end up in the same group again. And it got worse. Apparently the Homeroom groups were also going to double as English classes, which meant we wouldn’t be together there either. I mentally added another couple of ‘bummers’ to my rapidly expanding collection.
    If we weren’t all together in Homeroom or English it meant we wouldn’t be together much at all. This was because of our different subject choices. According to Razz’s definitions, Scobie was doing the ‘Future World Dictator’ course because he’d chosen subjects like Legal Studies and Economics, Ignatius had taken the ‘Extreme Nerd’ course because he’d picked heaps of Science subjects as well as ‘Mega-Brain’ Maths, Bill and I were down for the ‘Mixed Grill’ course because we had a bit of everything, and Razz had himself enrolled in ‘Senior for Dummies’ because he’d taken Film and TV, Health and Physical Education and ‘McHappy’ Maths.
    Up on stage Miss Tarango began to read out the fourEnglish classes. She started with hers. The names were in alphabetical order. We all held our breaths, waiting and hoping as Miss worked her way through the list. None of us was on it. We all slumped a little lower than normal in our seats. Beside me, Razza slumped so low he almost disappeared.
    Then Miss read out the second list – Ms Verity’s class. None of us was in that one either. There were only two classes left. Mr Slattery’s and Mr Krueger’s. Miss Tarango started on Mr Slattery’s group. She was about halfway through when Bill’s name came up. Then a few names later mine was read out. Then Prindabel’s. Then Scobie’s. It was unbelievable!
    We all looked at Razz, who had pulled himself forward and was perched on the edge of his seat drumming his fingers nervously on the chair in front of him. There was still a chance. We knew ‘Zorzotto’ would be right at the end – if it was there at all. Miss read out three more names.
    â€˜Jared Wilson. Matthew Wozniaki. Melvin Yip.’
    Then she placed the sheet of paper she was reading on the table. Razz stopped drumming his fingers and thumped his head down on them. He let out a low moan. Miss poured herself a glass of water and took a couple of sips. She cleared her throat.
    â€˜Sorry, boys – not used to all this talking. Now, where was I?’ She picked up the class lists again. ‘I think we’ve finished with Mr Slattery’s class, haven’t we? No, wait. Sorry. One name to go … and that would be … let’s see … Oh, Orazio Zorzotto.’
    Razz let out a wild whoop and shoved the chair in front so hard that Ryan Babic was sent sprawling to the gym floor. Brother Jerome and Mr Barker glowered at Razz in stereo. Miss Tarango glanced up as Ryan Babic climbed back to his seat, cursing Razz not quite under his breath. I could swear Miss was fighting to keep her dimples under control.
    After the meeting we all headed straight to the Senior noticeboard to check the class lists to make sure it was true.We couldn’t believe our luck. But there it was in black and white – all of us were together in Mr Slattery’s English class and, not only that,