“It’s okay with us,” Jessie said. “Why don’t you work out with Tipper by yourself? You’re such a good player, Violet and I can learn a lot just by watching the two of you play.”
This seemed to make Patsy feel better. Soon Tipper joined her for some one-on-one basketball.
“I’m getting a real workout here,” Tipper told Patsy as she tried to get the ball away. “You’re pretty good at faking me out.”
Patsy made another basket.
Violet and Jessie were cheering. “Good shot, Patsy!” Violet said, proud of her friend.
Patsy made one more basket. It went in. She’d beaten Tipper Nettleton!
“Great playing, Patsy,” Tipper said. “Courtney’s taught you a lot. The Blue Stars girls had better watch out. Thanks for playing with me. I need the practice before I meet Courtney across the court during the fund-raising game next week.”
Patsy put her basketball in her sports bag. “Thanks, Tipper.” She turned to Jessie. “I brought back your shorts. Do you have the ones I left here?”
“They’re still in the upstairs bathroom,” Jessie told her. “On the towel bar.”
Patsy picked up her sports bag. “I’ll leave these on your bed and go get mine.”
Jessie got up, too. “I’ll come with you.”
“That’s okay,” Patsy said. “I know where to go.”
“I have to get something, anyway,” Jessie told Patsy.
Patsy reached into her bag. “Well, never mind. Here are the shorts I borrowed. I’ll get mine some other time.”
Jessie took the shorts. “No problem. I’ll bring them to our next practice.”
The next day, the Blazers and the Hot Shots met on the courts of the Greenfield High School gym, where the championship games were being held. Henry and his team were down on the court. Tipper and the other Aldens were up in the bleachers, waiting for the second half of the game to start.
The two teams were a good match. At halftime the scoreboard said Blazers, 22, Hot Shots, 22.
Buzz stood in front of the Blazers for a pep talk.
A player named Jake Reed raised his hand. “I didn’t foul number fifteen. Honestly, Buzz. But Mr. Fowler blew the whistle on me, anyway.”
“And when somebody fouled me, Mr. Fowler didn’t catch it,” Henry said. “What do we do if it happens again?”
Buzz thought hard. He’d been playing basketball a lot longer than the Blazers. He knew better than to question the referee. “Just play the best basketball you can,” he told his team. “Don’t get too close to anybody. That way you can’t foul them, and they can’t foul you. If you play good ball the way I taught you, you’ll make all your points without any fouls.”
Halftime was over. The Blazers and Hot Shots circled for the toss-up. The buzzer went off. Henry tipped the ball to Jake, who passed it to another Blazer. Frank Fowler blew his whistle. He signaled for the Blazers to hand the ball over to the Hot Shots.
“I can’t believe it!” Jessie said when Frank Fowler made this call. “The Blazers’ ball was inside the lines when they passed it, right, Tipper?”
Tipper rested her chin on her fists. “Whew! I don’t believe what I’m seeing, either. Frank Fowler keeps making a lot of calls against the Blazers.”
“Is there anything Buzz can do?” Violet asked Tipper.
Tipper kept her eyes on the court. “Not much. If he complains, it might upset Mr. Fowler. All Buzz can do is help his players stay calm and play the best basketball they can.”
That’s exactly how Buzz coached the Blazers from the sidelines. Though Frank Fowler missed seeing several fouls against the Blazers, Buzz didn’t question the referee. He just cheered on his team.
With a minute left in the game, the score was tied at 46–46.
The game went into overtime. The two teams went basket for basket during overtime.
Then Henry got the rebound. With just another few seconds left on the clock, Henry made a basket.
“It’s in!” the Aldens screamed from their seats. “The Blazers are ahead by two points!”
Tipper chewed on her thumbnail. “All the Blazers have to do is keep the Hot Shots from scoring. This is where all those guarding drills Buzz did with the Blazers will pay off.”
The gym was wild with noise and cheering. The Blazers and Hot Shots had never played a better game. The Hot Shots player with the ball looked for chances to pass or throw. But everywhere he looked, a Blazer guarded a Hot Shots player. Finally the Hot Shots player tried to shoot.
“Foul!” Frank Fowler called out, pointing to a Blazer guard.
The Blazers fans groaned. No one had seen the guard touch the player.
“He didn’t touch him, did he, Tipper?” Violet asked.
Tipper shook her head. “I know he didn’t. Everybody else knows he didn’t, too. But that’s what Frank called. Now the Hot Shots guy gets two foul shots.”
The gym was completely silent now. The Hot Shots player stood at the foul line. He made his first throw. The ball bounced off the rim.
“Whew,” Jessie said. “The Blazers are still ahead.” She crossed her fingers.
The player took another foul shot. This one circled the rim for the longest time. Was it going to go in?
“He missed!” Tipper cried when the ball dropped off the rim onto the court.
When the final buzzer went off, the crowd seemed to explode.
“The Blazers won! The Blazers won!” the Aldens and other Blazers fans yelled and screamed.
The Aldens scrambled down the bleachers to the court. They hugged Henry. They hugged Buzz.
“You’re the champions!” Tipper said, hugging Buzz over and over. “You guys did it.”
Friends and family and sports photographers took pictures and talked to the team. Then the mayor came out and presented the boys’ league trophy to Buzz. He passed it down the line to his players. Finally, when all the picture-taking was over, the Blazers left the gym.
Tipper and the Aldens waited outside the locker room. Henry and Buzz came out in their street clothes a few minutes later.
Buzz gave Henry a friendly punch in the shoulder. “Great game, Henry. You guys did everything I taught you.”
“I did everything but guard people without having fouls called against me,” Henry said. “I can’t believe how many fouls Mr. Fowler called. I don’t think the Blazers committed half of them, either.”
Buzz slowed down. “Listen, that happens to the best of teams. You can’t predict what a ref is going to do. Sometimes the calls go your way. Sometimes they go the other way. I have to say, though, that I’ve never seen so many fouls called that I disagreed with.”
Everyone passed the lockers where the referees and coaches kept their things.
“Speaking of disagreeable, look at Mr. Fowler,” Henry whispered.
Frank Fowler stood in front of a locker. He was dumping his things into his bag. In went his whistle. In went his referee shoes. In went his striped hat. He finally picked up his bag and muttered to himself all the way out the door.
“Anybody looking at Frank Fowler would think he lost the game instead of refereed it. That’s pretty strange,” said Buzz.
“Well, Buzz,” Henry said, “the Blazers won the game fair and square thanks to your coaching. There’s nothing strange about that!”
CHAPTER 8
Sneaky Sneakers
When Jessie and Violet walked into the sports center the next day, Tom Hooper was up on his ladder painting the ceiling.
“Hi, Tom,” Tipper called out. “Looks as if you’re almost done. How are you?”
Tom didn’t answer, so Tipper and the Aldens kept walking down the hall.
“Hey, wait!” Tom called after them. “I just remembered something. Frank gave me a note for you, Tipper.”
Everyone turned around. Tom came down from his ladder. He searched the pocket of his painter’s pants. “Now, what did I do with it?”
“Do with what?” Jessie asked.
“Frank?
??s piece of paper . . . mmm . . . let me see.” Tom emptied his pockets but found nothing. Finally he picked up a piece of paper from the floor. “Whew. It fell out of my pocket. Frank says this is very important. Sorry, I almost forgot.” He handed Tipper a paint-splattered, wrinkled note.
Tipper read it aloud.
Dear Tipper,
The Blue Stars’ coach just came down with the flu. Since the Fast Breakers team has two coaches, you and Courtney, I have assigned Courtney to coach the Blue Stars until the championship game.
Frank Fowler
“Looks as if it’s just us Fast Breakers chickens,” Tipper told the girls.
Violet and Jessie looked at each other. They didn’t mind this new change of plans at all. They knew one thing: Practice with Tipper alone would be a lot more fun from now on.
All their other teammates, except one, cheered when Tipper announced that she was now the Fast Breakers’ only coach. Only Patsy Cutter seemed to mind. She loved Tipper, but she also loved having two coaches to give her lots of attention.
All through practice Patsy followed Tipper around and begged for extra help. But that wasn’t Tipper’s way of doing things.
“Sorry, Patsy,” Tipper repeated. “I know you want me to work with you on the power drill again, but that’s a one-player drill. Today we’re only doing team drills. Now that Courtney’s with the Blue Stars, I have to work more with our whole team.”
“But . . . but . . .” Patsy protested. “If the really good players don’t get special drills, we might not be the best like you.”
Tipper put her arm around Patsy’s shoulders. “Being the best player means helping the team to be the best.”
Patsy sighed. She couldn’t help it. She wanted Tipper Nettleton to herself. But Patsy didn’t have any choice. She lined up behind the other Fast Breakers. It was time for a team drill.
The Fast Breakers practiced for an hour. Then the lights flickered on and off. The girls stopped playing.
“Time for the Blue Stars’ practice,” Courtney yelled across the gym. Her hand was still on the light switch. “It’s two o’clock.”
Patsy, Violet, Jessie, and some of the other girls went over to say hello to their old coach.
“I wish we still had two coaches,” Patsy complained to Courtney. “I need special help. We only have one coach now. I can’t work on my power drill or the wall drill.”
“That’s the way it goes,” Courtney said, none too friendly to the Fast Breakers now. “Tell your teammates to move along. The Blue Stars have to practice now.”
Right up to the playoffs, Courtney treated the Fast Breakers like strangers. If their practice ran over just a few seconds, she complained.
“Don’t mind Courtney,” Tipper told the Fast Breakers. “Some coaches are tough like that. They want everyone to be afraid of their team. That’s the way Courtney’s old Warwick High School team played. We were terrified of them. In the end, they won some games, and we won some others. It’s two different ways of coaching.”
“We like your way,” Violet said.
Patsy Cutter wasn’t so sure. “I like your way, too, Tipper. But don’t you think it’s a good idea to build up some players the other team is afraid of?” she asked. “You know — make some of us so awesome, the other team gets nervous?”
Tipper laughed. “Do you have anybody in mind?”
Patsy finally laughed, too. “Well, if you change your mind, I can be pretty scary.”
Tipper Nettleton laughed. “I don’t want scary players, just good ones like you who work as a team.”
When the day of the championship game arrived, the Aldens were excited, but also a little nervous.
At breakfast that morning, Violet pushed her scrambled eggs around her plate, unable to eat them. “I can’t believe we’re going to play in front of all those people,” she said. “I’m so nervous. I almost wish Patsy and Jessie and the other best players would play the whole game.”
“Hush!” Tipper said. “Put that thought from your mind, Violet. I know what will make you feel better. Let’s do a quick workout in back. When you see how well you practice, your confidence will bounce right back. Come on now.”
Out in back, Violet tried out everything Tipper had taught her. Tipper helped her guard and pass and dribble and shoot until she was playing smoothly.
“You’re right,” Violet told Tipper when they finally stopped. “Now I know I can play against anyone, even the Blue Stars.”
“Especially the Blue Stars,” Tipper said before she and Violet went inside.
Jessie looked at the clock. “Only an hour and a half. What will we do until then?”
“Let’s head over to the sports center to pick up our uniforms and basketball sneakers,” Tipper suggested. “We have to take our things over to the Greenfield High gym before our game there.”
“Good idea,” Jessie said. “I’m too fidgety to stay home.”
On the way over, Tipper helped the girls relax with some quiet music. “It’s important to work yourselves hard, but it’s also good to get your mind calm before a big game. That’s what I always do.”
But that wasn’t what Courtney Post did with the Blue Stars. When Tipper and the Aldens walked into the sports center, Courtney was supervising some last-minute practice with two of her players. “Harder! Dribble it harder!” she yelled. “You don’t want everybody to think you’re the Blue Marshmallows, do you? Don’t be afraid to look a little mean. It throws everybody off guard.”
“They look scary,” Violet whispered, starting to lose a little of her confidence.
“No, not scary, miserable,” Jessie said.
Courtney noticed Tipper and the Aldens standing there.
“The office is unlocked,” Courtney shouted at Tipper. “I sent my team’s things over to the Greenfield High School gym with Frank. He’s going to be the referee. We’re leaving for the high school in a minute. Make sure you get your players there on time, too. You don’t want to forfeit the game!”
“Ugh!” Tipper said with a groan after Courtney left. “Now, why did Courtney have to go and say that? I’m totally confident about everybody’s playing. What I don’t like much is getting everything ready — the equipment, the paperwork, the scoring sheets. I wish the sports center was ready so we could play the game here.”
Violet patted Tipper’s arm. “Don’t worry. Jessie can help. She’s always super-organized. She even lines up her slippers in one direction next to her bed every night.”
Jessie laughed. “I thought everyone did that!”
The girls followed Tipper into the office. The room was still a little messy, with construction equipment cluttering up the small area.
“Can you get both duffel bags from the closet?” Tipper asked Jessie and Violet. “The uniforms and sneakers are in the bags. Oh, and grab a couple basketballs, just in case. You never know. I’ll get the stopwatch and the papers we need for the game.”
Jessie opened the closet door. “Did you mean this closet, Tipper?” she said. “There are only a couple of ladders and a bunch of paint cans in here.”
Tipper came over. “Oh, no! The duffel bags were right here when we finished practice last night. I even put a name tag on each of them so no one would take them by mistake. I didn’t want the team bags to get mixed up with anybody else’s things.”
“We’ll go find Tom or Courtney,” Jessie told Tipper.
“Tom? Tom?” Jessie called out. But the only answer she heard was the sound of her own voice echoing back.
Violet ran to the lobby. She looked out the front doors. “Oh, no, Courtney just left.”
Tipper and the Aldens were alone in the empty building.
“What should we do?” Jessie asked.
Tipper checked her watch. “Let’s split up and check every unlocked room and closet in this building. Maybe the painters moved our bags somewhere else.”
The girls split up. They raced through the dark halls. Most of the rooms and closets were locked.
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When Violet and Jessie met Tipper in the lobby again, they were all empty-handed.
“All I can guess is that Tom or Frank took our duffel bags to the high school gym earlier,” Tipper said, checking her watch again. “Let’s keep our fingers crossed. We’d better get a move on. The game starts in about forty-five minutes.”
CHAPTER 9
Go Team!
As she drove along, Tipper kept to the speed limit, but Jessie could see she was gripping the wheel. “I should have searched the office for a note or something,” Tipper told the girls. “If Tom or Frank took our bags, they probably left a note.”
“Maybe Mr. Fowler would, but Tom is so forgetful, I don’t think he would remember to do that,” Jessie pointed out.
When Tipper and the Aldens arrived at the Greenfield High School gym, they were disappointed. Frank had only delivered the Blue Stars’ bags. The Fast Breakers’ bags were nowhere to be seen, and the game was starting very soon.
“Finally!” Patsy Cutter said with relief when she saw Tipper and the Aldens. “The whole team was wondering where you guys were. They’re in the locker room waiting for their uniforms and basketball sneakers. The Blue Stars are already out on the court warming up. What happened, anyway?”
“I’ll tell you in a minute,” Tipper said. “Ask the girls to meet me in the hallway outside the gym, okay? I need to speak to everyone without the Blue Stars around.”
“There’s not enough time,” Patsy said. “We have to change.”
Tipper took a deep breath. “I just need five minutes, Patsy. Please bring the team out to the hallway.”
When Patsy passed back through the gym with the girls, Courtney and the Blue Stars were already warming up. They stared at the Fast Breakers. Why were they still in their street clothes? Weren’t they going to warm up before the big game?
Tipper stood in front of her team in the hallway. “There’s been a mix-up with the uniforms and sneakers,” she began. “We’re just waiting for Tom to show up. I’m counting on him to get here any minute.”