Blind Your Ponies by Stanley Gordon West Read Free Book Online Page A

pace. “Why on earth would you want to do that?”
    “Ah … I figure I know the routine and all, and the boys … it would be all new to Mr. Grant.”
    A haggard grin materialized on the superintendent’s sallow face. “All this nonsense about the Norwegian boy getting to you?”
    “I need something to fill those winter months. I don’t know what I’d do with myself around here without the basketball program.”
    Truly leaned forward and spoke softly. “If you don’t mind my being a little personal …”
    Sam nodded, glancing into Truly’s dark little eyes.
    “I’ve wondered about you, Pickett, what you’re doing in this outpost, never having any female companionship, a young man like you in your prime. Hell, you could hang around here for fifty years and never find a lady for yourself. Except for our Miss Murphy, there isn’t an eligible woman for you in a hundred square miles.”
    “I like the peace and quiet here, away from …” Sam paused.
    Truly glanced into the hallway and then leaned across his desk. “You do
appreciate
the ladies, don’t you Pickett?”
    Sam nodded and then caught himself, wishing he’d shown no response to Truly’s inquiry. A flush of anger swept the smile from his face. “I need something to do, sir. Olaf, the exchange student, doesn’t play basketball. He needs to learn. I’m familiar with the program, driving the bus and all the rest. I enjoy the boys. And like I said, it fills up my winter.”
    The superintendent leaned back in his chair and swiveled to the window. He didn’t speak for a full minute. Sam held his breath. He prayed hissuperior would allow him another year of anguish, coaching the hapless team. He worried Truly would say no, snatching from him some intangible absurdity nesting in his heart.
    “Very well. It’ll save me from persuading Mr. Grant to stick his head in the noose.”
    Truly swiveled back and regarded Sam, then twitched his pointy nose. “Are you sure about this, Pickett?”
    “Yes.”
    “There’s no more money than last year.”
    “That doesn’t matter. Thanks, Mr. Osborn.”
    “Don’t thank me. It is I who should thank you.”
    Sam turned and hurried down the hall before his superior could change his mind.
    “Good luck, Sam!” Truly shouted down the hall.
    A FTER A RESTLESS weekend in which he could think of nothing else, Sam cornered Olaf after English class.
    “Would you like to learn how to play basketball while you’re here?”
    “Learning do you think I could be?” Olaf asked, giving Sam a glimmer of hope.
    “I think I could teach you. It’s something to do around here in the winter.”
    “Doing well I’m afraid I would not be. Anything poorly my father is not happy for me to be doing. I am … how would you say … clumsy.”
    Sam pressed. “You could do it just for the fun of it.”
    “Thank you for giving kindness,” Olaf said, “but foolish I think I would be.”
    “We could try it, just you and me, after school in the gym.”
    “After school in the gym, ya, seeing me no one will be?”
    “No one, and we won’t tell anyone you’re giving it a try.”
    “Giving it a try I would like to be while I am in America.”
    “We haven’t won a game here for a while so I can’t promise you much, but you could learn about the game. If you don’t like it you can let it go and no one will know.”
    “No one will know.” Olaf’s large blue eyes widened and his face brightened. He gazed down at Sam. “Then trying I will be. But feeling foolish I do not wish to be.”
    “You don’t have to worry about that. Around here we all feel foolish when it comes to basketball.”

CHAPTER 7
    After sneaking in and locking the door behind them, Sam and the new exchange student stood in the shadowy gymnasium. With some inner voice cautioning him against this dangerous investment of the heart, Sam tossed the ball to Olaf. The boy caught it stiffly.
    “Are you right-handed?” Sam asked.
    “Right-handed, ya.”
    “Place the