Hey, Coach! ch. 2

It wasn't that there weren't any other kids around in the neighborhood. On these nights when Scotty owned his little court out there in the backyard and started teaching fundamentals to Little Brother, he had visions of big games, maybe a crowd watching, some cheers.  But to get kids to come around wasn't easy and just didn't happen.  Scotty knew that Wes had indoor soccer every other night.  Lane was at voice for his sister until seven, at least.  Will and Trent, they were at their basement playing 'games' until somebody told them differently.  How many times had he been invited over to their house and when he got there he might not even see them, they might not even say anything, just expect you come on down and find a spot on the couch and grab a handheld and start shooting a zombie or some other war hero.  It was very unusual, he knew, but it was quite possible that there was nothing more boring in the entire world than sitting around in other people's basements with a plastic stick in your hand clicking away one simple finger.  He might get the hang of it all soon enough, but before he knew it, his mind started to wander off to his court and he could smell the wet rubber of his basketball in the rain, and he could hear the sloppy splash of his shot slip down through nothing but net and hit the wet court.  Now Little Brother was entirely different story.  The inside joke was that Will and Trent wanted Scotty to come over only if he brought Little Brother.  He would hunker down on the bean bag at the corner of the couch and he looked like he was born with that stick in his hands, his eyes would light up and from there on out, they would brag about scores and how many killed.  Scotty would sneak back up the stairs, say goodbye to Mrs. Levitt and head back home to plot his next plays out on the court.  All of this was the standard routine at home.  Parents gone or busy. Kids in the basement shooting at things.  Waiting for the next car ride.  School the next day.  It was through this his own dream took shape, unexplainable at that age, but it seeped up through the cracks of it all. Last year there weren't enough players for St. Dominic to field a basketball team.  Three of the fifth graders played up on the sixth grade team and that was a mess.  None of the dad's he knew of had played basketball, most of them were in their own basements or overseas.  Scotty sat down and made out a list of all possible players from his grade.  Tomorrow, he decided, was recruitment day. There was no reason that he could think of why he couldn't coach the team!