Sink it Rusty Read Online Free Page B
Author: Matt Christopher
his feet.
The Braves players shouted something at the referee. They didn't like that call.
“Hurt, Rusty?” Joby asked, running forward.
“No. I'm all right,” said Rusty.
I wouldn't call that a foul, though. It was an accident
.
He stepped to the free-throw line, and rubbed his hip.
The referee waited till the players were ready on each side of the free-throw lane, then handed the ball to Rusty. “One shot,”
he repeated.
Nervously, Rusty took the ball. He bounced it a few times, then looked long and carefully at the basket. A hushed silence
fell upon the big gym.
Rusty shot. The ball hit the rim, rolled around it, and fell off!
A half a dozen pairs of hands reached up for the rebound. Jim Bush got it. In the next instant someone knocked it out of his
hands. It bounced across the floor. Rusty hurried after it, scooped it up. A tall, broad-shouldered Braves player reached
it a moment later. He wrapped his armaround the ball and tried to whip it out of Rusty's hands.
Rusty held on as tightly as he could. The Braves player was strong. He practically picked Rusty off his feet and swung him
around the floor! Rusty fell, but he still held on to the ball. The Braves player bent on one knee beside Rusty, and looked
at Rusty unbelievingly.
The Lakers fans roared out in laughter: “That's the boy, Rusty! Don't let him take it from you!”
Jump ball. The Braves player won his argument this time. He outjumped Rusty easily. Ten seconds later the Braves scored a
basket. The buzzer sounded. Mark and Perry came back into the game. Rusty and Jim went out.
They sat on the bench beside CoachAlec Daws. Their faces glistened with perspiration.
“How do you feel, Rusty?” asked Alec.
Rusty's chest rose and fell as he breathed. “Okay!” he said.
Alec grinned. “You did fine,” he said. “In the second half, we'll let you go in again.”
Rusty smiled. “Thank you!”
“But keep out of those scrambles,” warned Alec. “Get in one intentionally, and you're out. Remember that!”
Rusty nodded. A little while later the buzzer sounded, ending the first half.
10
T HE score was 26–19, in favor of the Braves, as the second half started. Rusty was impressed by Perry. He watched Perry's every
move. There was no doubt that Perry was the best player on the Lakers team. Perhaps, at this moment, the best player on the
floor.
Thoughts ran through Rusty's mind as he watched Perry catch passes, make fast breaks, and leap for lay-ups. Perry went up
high, as if he had springs in his legs.
Maybe I could have been like him, thought Rusty. If the disease hadn't struckme, I might be out there on the floor this very minute, running and dribbling and shooting, just as Perry is doing.
It was funny how polio could change a person.
I'm well now. Yet I'm not well. I feel healthy and strong, yet I cannot do the many things other boys
my
age can do
.
His stomach tightened into a knot.
He'd never be like those other boys again. Never.
A loud cheer from the Lakers fans brought Rusty's thoughts back to the game. He saw Corny running up-court with a proud smile
on his face, and knew Corny must have sunk one.
The electric scoreboard flashed the score: VISITORS — 21; HOME — 26.
The gap was closing.
“Okay, Rusty,” said Alec. “Go in theminute the ball is dead. Remember, don't rush. Keep out when there's a scramble for the ball. Ted, in for Bud.”
Rusty wished Alec wouldn't warn him all the time.
He treats me as if I'm a little boy of four or five. I don't want pity! I can take care of myself!
When he got into the game he remembered Alec's warning. He didn't want to do anything against Alec's wishes, anything that
would give Alec a good reason not to let him play again.
Rusty played the corner. He didn't expect any more than a pass or two.
At last, the first one came. It was from Ted Stone, who was being pressed by two Braves players.
Rusty caught the pass, aimed for the basket, and shot.
In!
A
The Braves players shouted something at the referee. They didn't like that call.
“Hurt, Rusty?” Joby asked, running forward.
“No. I'm all right,” said Rusty.
I wouldn't call that a foul, though. It was an accident
.
He stepped to the free-throw line, and rubbed his hip.
The referee waited till the players were ready on each side of the free-throw lane, then handed the ball to Rusty. “One shot,”
he repeated.
Nervously, Rusty took the ball. He bounced it a few times, then looked long and carefully at the basket. A hushed silence
fell upon the big gym.
Rusty shot. The ball hit the rim, rolled around it, and fell off!
A half a dozen pairs of hands reached up for the rebound. Jim Bush got it. In the next instant someone knocked it out of his
hands. It bounced across the floor. Rusty hurried after it, scooped it up. A tall, broad-shouldered Braves player reached
it a moment later. He wrapped his armaround the ball and tried to whip it out of Rusty's hands.
Rusty held on as tightly as he could. The Braves player was strong. He practically picked Rusty off his feet and swung him
around the floor! Rusty fell, but he still held on to the ball. The Braves player bent on one knee beside Rusty, and looked
at Rusty unbelievingly.
The Lakers fans roared out in laughter: “That's the boy, Rusty! Don't let him take it from you!”
Jump ball. The Braves player won his argument this time. He outjumped Rusty easily. Ten seconds later the Braves scored a
basket. The buzzer sounded. Mark and Perry came back into the game. Rusty and Jim went out.
They sat on the bench beside CoachAlec Daws. Their faces glistened with perspiration.
“How do you feel, Rusty?” asked Alec.
Rusty's chest rose and fell as he breathed. “Okay!” he said.
Alec grinned. “You did fine,” he said. “In the second half, we'll let you go in again.”
Rusty smiled. “Thank you!”
“But keep out of those scrambles,” warned Alec. “Get in one intentionally, and you're out. Remember that!”
Rusty nodded. A little while later the buzzer sounded, ending the first half.
10
T HE score was 26–19, in favor of the Braves, as the second half started. Rusty was impressed by Perry. He watched Perry's every
move. There was no doubt that Perry was the best player on the Lakers team. Perhaps, at this moment, the best player on the
floor.
Thoughts ran through Rusty's mind as he watched Perry catch passes, make fast breaks, and leap for lay-ups. Perry went up
high, as if he had springs in his legs.
Maybe I could have been like him, thought Rusty. If the disease hadn't struckme, I might be out there on the floor this very minute, running and dribbling and shooting, just as Perry is doing.
It was funny how polio could change a person.
I'm well now. Yet I'm not well. I feel healthy and strong, yet I cannot do the many things other boys
my
age can do
.
His stomach tightened into a knot.
He'd never be like those other boys again. Never.
A loud cheer from the Lakers fans brought Rusty's thoughts back to the game. He saw Corny running up-court with a proud smile
on his face, and knew Corny must have sunk one.
The electric scoreboard flashed the score: VISITORS — 21; HOME — 26.
The gap was closing.
“Okay, Rusty,” said Alec. “Go in theminute the ball is dead. Remember, don't rush. Keep out when there's a scramble for the ball. Ted, in for Bud.”
Rusty wished Alec wouldn't warn him all the time.
He treats me as if I'm a little boy of four or five. I don't want pity! I can take care of myself!
When he got into the game he remembered Alec's warning. He didn't want to do anything against Alec's wishes, anything that
would give Alec a good reason not to let him play again.
Rusty played the corner. He didn't expect any more than a pass or two.
At last, the first one came. It was from Ted Stone, who was being pressed by two Braves players.
Rusty caught the pass, aimed for the basket, and shot.
In!
A
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