Miracle on 49th Street by Mike Lupica Read Free Book Online Page B

huddling around the coach, but could see that he wasn’t the one doing the talking.
    Josh Cameron was.
    Molly tried to compare this Josh to the one who seemed so scared of her when he got into his car and drove off, but couldn’t do it.
    Over all the noise of the crowd, Sam shouted, “He likes to dribble out most of the clock and then do something amazing to win the game.”
    They were standing on their chairs because everybody else at the TD Banknorth Garden was standing, getting ready for the last play.
    â€œJust watch,” Sam said.
    But she had been watching every move Josh Cameron made all night long.
    They passed the ball in to him at half-court. At first, he didn’t even dribble. Just stood there in this cool way, like he knew something that no one else in this loud, crazy place knew, looking up at the clock over the Celtics basket.
    Twelve seconds.
    Ten.
    Now six.
    He made his move then, beating the man guarding him with his very first dribble, flying past him, looking as if he were on his way to the basket, ready to go up against the 76ers’ biggest guys once more, ready to beat them and the clock at the same time.
    Only he didn’t drive, seeing that the 76ers had cut him off. Instead he stopped about ten feet from the basket, doing that even though he’d been going at full speed. Put the brakes on so hard, Molly half-expected to hear the screech of car tires.
    She was sure he was going to make the kind of jump shot he’d been making the whole game every time he pulled up like this.
    Three seconds left.
    He went up into the air.
    He was going to do it!
    Somehow Molly had forgotten how mad she was at him. She was as excited as everyone else now.
    Josh released the ball then, and Molly’s heart sank, because she had a perfect angle to see that his shot wasn’t going to be anywhere near the basket. It was off. Off to the left.
    Which is where L. J. Brown, one of the Celtics’ biggest guys, was already in midair, in perfect position to catch what wasn’t a shot at all from Josh Cameron because it was a pass, a perfect pass.
    L. J. Brown caught it and dunked it in the same motion as the horn sounded.
    The Celtics, even the ones on the bench, came rushing out to mob Brown. Molly kept watching Josh, who was smiling at the scene from where he’d thrown Brown the ball, smiling and nodding his head. Then he turned away from the celebration under the basket and walked past the Celtics bench, right past where Molly and Sam were sitting, and disappeared down the runway that led to the locker room.
    Even now, nobody could touch him.
    Molly grabbed Sam by the arm and said, “Come on, we’ve got to go.”
    â€œThe game just ended,” Sam said. “You can tell. See all the happy people around us?”
    â€œCome on ,” Molly said. “Time for Plan C.”

    â€œThis is a really bad idea,” Sam said.
    â€œIt’s a great idea, and you know it. You just don’t like it because you didn’t come up with it.”
    â€œWe’re supposed to wait in the press lounge.”
    â€œYou’ll be back there before you know it.”
    â€œPlan C,” Sam said, shaking his head sadly, even as Molly kept pulling him through the crowd and telling him not to worry. “If I were grading it honestly, I’d actually give it a D or an F.”
    Molly knew that where the Celtics players parked their cars for games at the TD Banknorth Garden was next door, where the old Garden had been until they tore it down. Sam said that was the kind of thing he was supposed to know and not her. Molly said she’d read it in one of Uncle Adam’s columns, even before she’d met Sam. It was when she had first started to read up on Josh Cameron, after her mom had finally told her the truth. Adam Burke had written about standing over there with Josh Cameron—would she ever be able to start thinking of him as her dad?—right before the