Nothin But Net Read Online Free

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     hooting and hollering at the three who were still not done — most of all at Billy, who couldn’t have cared less.
    “Let’s go, let’s go,” Jody urged the three lagging campers, clapping his hands together. “Gotta get in shape, you guys! Gotta
     keep up!”
    Billy and the other two kids finished, collapsing on the ground to more hoots and applause from the others. “Come on, you
     slackers, get up!” shouted one of them, a slim, athletic-looking blond-haired kid.
    “Zip it, Gruber,” Jody warned. “Mind your own business.”
    They went on to do some drills — layups from both sides, fast breaks, five-man weaves — with Jody and Dick Dunbar giving coaching
     pointers along the way. It was Tim’s first chance to get a look at the other kids’ basketball skills and compare them with
     his own. He thought he stood up pretty well, but a few kids were way better than him or anyone else — especially Don DeGeronimo
     and the kid named Gruber.
    Of course, they hadn’t started shooting from the outside yet — Tim’s weakest area. He was dreading the moment he shot his
     first brick at the hoop.
    Billy looked like he was having a miserable time, but Tim tried to keep his distance. He didn’t want to be looked at as Billy’s
     nursemaid, first of all. And second, he wasn’t sure if Billy was still mad at him over last night’s prank.
    After drills and a short water break, Jody announced, “Okay, Donnie and Gruber, you two are captains for the scrimmage. Donnie,
     your team is the Skins. Mike, you’re Shirts, and you pick first.”
    While Donnie removed his shirt, Mike Gruber looked around at the assembled campers, considering whom to pick. “I’ve got Last,”
     he said, picking the tallest kid of the whole bunch. Donnie pickednext, and they took turns until all sixteen campers were picked. Tim was picked twelfth — he guessed because none of them
     knew how well he could play — and Billy went dead last. Both of them were on the Skins. Tim winced at the sight of Billy’s
     shirtless, flabby frame. Nearly everyone else looked buff by comparison.
    The scrimmage began, and Tim watched from the sidelines as the starters went at each other. He was determined to show them
     all that he deserved to get picked higher than twelfth out of sixteen. He just hoped he got enough playing time to do it.
    He could see that some of the kids could really play the game. Well, no wonder, he thought. They’ve been coming here for,
     what, seven years? Bob Last was pretty good for a guy his size. He had a nice, soft jump shot, and boy, could he block shots
     and haul down rebounds. But Donnie, who was maybe two inches shorter, could jump higher and dribble rings around him, and
     he had amazing moves, not to mention being just as good a shooter.
    Mike Gruber, that blond-haired pip-squeak, was amazing at handling the ball. He was even shorter than Tim, but nobody could
     stop him, not even Donnie.He played — and shot the ball from the outside — the way Tim wanted to. Tim determined to make friends with Mike Gruber and
     learn everything he could from him.
    Ten minutes into the scrimmage, Jody yelled, “Subs in!” On each team, three kids headed for the sidelines, and the three who’d
     been standing around went in to replace them. Billy was subbing at center for Don DeGeronimo. Tim went in for the Skins starting
     point guard, Merrick Jones — an African-American kid with a shaved head whom the other kids called Cue Ball. In fact, every
     kid here seemed to have a nickname. He wondered what his and Billy’s would wind up being.
    Despite the fact that he was the Skins point guard now, Tim hardly even got his hands on the ball the whole time he was in
     the game. He would pass the ball, only to find that it never came back his way. Sometimes, it was because the other kids were
     hogging it, taking wild, forced shots just to impress everyone. But Tim got the uneasy feeling that some of the time, kids
     were