Hoop Crazy by Eric Walters Read Free Book Online Page A

are you? Is it broken?”
    â€œNot broken. Sprained, just like Ned’s mother said it was.”
    I felt relieved … except a little part of me wanted it to be broken. Not only because I wanted Debbie to be wrong, but I wanted Ned to have done something really bad.
    â€œI guess that’s good,” I said. “What does that mean … can you play?”
    â€œI have to be on crutches for the next two days and won’t be able to put much weight on it for aweek or so.”
    â€œThen you’re out of the tournament … we’re all out of the tournament.”
    â€œSorry.”
    â€œIt’s not your fault. It’s all Ned’s.”
    â€œIt was an accident,” Mark said softly.
    â€œMaybe it was, but if the big freak didn’t have feet the size of boats, he wouldn’t have tripped over them and landed on you.”
    â€œI might be able to walk by Saturday,” Mark said.
    â€œBut not run or cut or set up for a shot.”
    There was a long pause. “I’ll come down and watch you play.”
    â€œWatch us play? Watch who play?”
    â€œYou and Kia and Ned.”
    â€œYou don’t really think that we’re still going to play, do you?”
    â€œI don’t know … I thought maybe.” “We’d just be a joke. I got to go now, we’re having supper.”
    â€œOkay. Tell Ned I’m okay. He looked worried. And tell him I know it wasn’t his fault.”
    â€œTalk to you later,” I said, and put down the phone.
    I walked back into the kitchen. Everybody stopped talking.
    â€œWas it Mark?” my father asked.
    â€œYep.”
    â€œAnd how is he?”
    â€œIn a lot of pain,” I said. I didn’t care what Mark said; I wanted Ned to feel bad. He should feel bad after what he did to Mark and the team.
    â€œIs it broken?” Debbie asked.
    â€œNo. Sprained. A bad sprain …
really
bad.”
    â€œPoor Mark.”
    â€œMaybe we should go over and see him,” Debbie suggested.
    â€œI don’t think he wants any visitors right now,” I said. “He’s still in too much pain.”
    â€œI know Ned feels terrible about everything,” Debbie said.
    I looked over at Ned. He did look like his dog had died. Good.
    â€œMark knows that it was an accident. He’s such a nice boy he wouldn’t even be angry about it,” my mother said. “Right, Nick?”
    â€œHow would I know,” I lied. “I’m not psy-chic.”
    â€œBut you know Mark.”
    â€œBut I don’t know how he feels about being in so much pain, and having to miss the tournament.”
    â€œThat’s right, I guess he can’t play. I was so worried about him being injured that I didn’t even think about that,” my mother said. “I imagine he’ll be sad about missing it.”
    â€œNo sadder than the rest of us are about missing it,” I said.
    â€œMissing it?” my father questioned. “Aren’t you still going to enter? As long as you have a note from his doctor explaining why he’s not able to play, they’ll still let you enter the contest with three players.”
    â€œWhat’s the point? We don’t have a chance without Mark.”
    â€œCould you get another player?” Debbie asked.
    â€œToo late. Your team has to be the people listed on the entry form.”
    â€œBut you three can still play,” my mother interjected. “Isn’t it about playing? Aren’t you and your father always going on about how it’s about competing, not about winning?”
    â€œWe can’t compete. We’d just be a joke … all of us.”
    â€œDoes Kia feel the same way?” my father asked.
    â€œI haven’t talked to her.”
    â€œMaybe you should. We’ve already sent in the forms and paid the entry fee.”
    â€œI’d like to still play,” Ned said quietly.
    â€œAnd I’d like it