Juice - Eric Walters [7]
“Those who fail to plan,” we all echoed.
“…plan to fail,” Coach Barnes said.
“Plan to fail,” we repeated.
“Say it again!” he ordered.
We repeated the words, this time louder and with more force and purpose.
“This is my plan,” Coach Barnes said. “We’re going to win the championship next year. The Division One championship.”
“But we’ve always played Division Two,” Caleb said.
“That was in the past. It’s time to step up and play with the big boys—beat the big boys.”
“We’re not that big a school,” somebody said. “Our student body isn’t that big.”
“I’m not interested in the size of the student body, but in the size of the heart inside the bodies on my team. Is there anybody here who doesn’t think we can do it?”
Nobody answered.
“Because anybody who doesn’t think we can win can walk through that door right now. As a matter of fact, I’ll open the door myself and slam it behind them. Well, do you think we can do it? Yes or no?”
“We can do it,” Caleb said.
“I heard the words, but I couldn’t hear the attitude. Don’t make it sound like a question or an apology. Make it sound like a statement.”
“We can do it!” Caleb practically yelled. “We can do it!”
“What about the rest of you? What do you think?”
“We can do it!” everybody yelled.
“I know we can. If you can dream it, you can plan it, and if you can plan it, you can do it. We can do it. All of you, stand up.”
We stumbled to our feet.
“Form a circle.”
We all did what we were told.
“Now put out a hand—right here on top of mine.”
We all extended our hands until there was a pile of hands on top of each other.
“I’m going to give you boys my word that I will do whatever, and I mean whatever, is necessary to help us reach our dream. Will you all do the same?”
We all nodded our heads and yelled out agreement. I felt a tingle go right up my spine. I felt as hyped as I had been during the big game—after the big game.
“It all begins right now, right here. On three, break. One, two, three.”
“Break!” we all yelled out.
The bell suddenly rang, signaling the end of fourth period. It was lunch. As everybody stood around, talking and laughing, I walked over to the corner of the weight room. I sat down on the end of the bench and positioned myself under the bar. I started doing presses. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. I reached ten and put the bar back in place.
I looked around the room. The other guys were all at different pieces of equipment, working out. Coach Barnes was standing at my side.
“I figured I’d made the right choice for captain. Now I know.”
I felt happy and excited—and a little bit guilty. Coach Reeves hadn’t even cleaned out his office yet.
I owed him so much. He was the reason I had played in the first place, and then he’d worked with me to help me become a better player. He’d also been there when I was having trouble in math. He sat down and worked with me until I understood calculus. He didn’t do that just so I could stay eligible to play ball. He just did it. I’d miss him. Still, this was pretty exciting.
Chapter Five
“What are you doing?” my mother asked as she padded into the kitchen in her slippers and pajamas.
“Eating,” I mumbled through a big mouthful of cereal.
“You’re always eating. What I meant is, what are you doing up at this hour? It’s not even seven o’clock. You can’t be starting work this early.”
“The store doesn’t even open until eight,” I said. “I have a shift later on today. I’m working from noon to six.”
I worked in the produce department of Dennis’s No Frills Grocery Store. It was a nice job. I liked the people I worked with. Dennis was a great boss, and he always let me, and the other members of the team, change our shifts so we wouldn’t miss games or practices.
“Then, getting back to my original question,