Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3 After school, I hurried to the gym. I thought that being the first one at tryouts would impress Ms. Adolf. Maybe I couldn't dribble, but at least I could be on time. When I was halfway down the hall, I realized that my body felt awfully light. I looked over my shoulder and noticed that my backpack straps were missing. So was my backpack. I spun around and sprinted back to class. When I reached the door, my teacher, Ms. Flowers, was standing there holding my backpack out in front of her. She knows me so well. "Forget something?" she asked with a smile. "Thanks, Ms. Flowers," I said, taking the backpack and flinging it over my shoulder.

"By the way, Hank," she whispered. "Did you know your backpack smells strongly of pickles?" "Yeah, isn't it great? I sprinkle a little pickle juice in there sometimes, just to keep my nose happy." "You're an interesting boy," she said. "Thanks again," I shouted as I took off down the hall. When I got to the gym, I flew through the door. Unfortunately, Ms. Adolf was standing right in front of it, and I ran smack into her.

She didn't exactly fall down, but she stumbled forward a few steps, which made her blow her whistle really loud. The whole gym got quiet, waiting to see how mad she was going to get. She got pretty mad. "Of course it's you, Henry," she said, squinting at me with her beady gray eyes. "I'm sorry, Ms. Adolf. I didn't mean to knock you over." "But you did," she said. "Everyone else seems to have gotten here without creating an accident. And what is that terrible pickle odor?" "Garlic dills," I answered. "They're my favorite." "Perhaps you and your pickles can stand farther away," she said, holding her nose. I took a few steps back. It was then I noticed that Ms. Adolf was wearing shorts. My eyes almost popped out of my head. She isn't the kind of person who wears shorts. Her bony gray knees looked like they had never seen daylight before.

I looked around the room. Frankie and Ashley were sitting in the bleachers, and next to them were Heather Payne and Nick McKelty. There were five other second-graders waiting to try out for the team, just like me. "Based on their excellent performance in gym class, I have already chosen the following students for our team," Ms. Adolf said, reading from a clipboard. "Frankie Townsend, Ashley Wong, Heather Payne, and Nick McKelty." Nick McKelty! Why would anyone choose Nick the Tick? That guy moves like a dump truck. And besides, he's the worst sport in the world. Maybe he got picked because his head looks like a basketball, only with teeth. "Today, I will pick five more players to complete our team," Ms. Adolf said. "One to play on the main team, and the other four will serve as backup on the bench." "I'm really good at backing up," I said with a big smile. "I can walk backward from Ms. Flowers's classroom all the way to the water fountain."

Everyone in the bleachers howled. Well, everyone except McKelty. Even though I didn't mean to be funny, it sure felt good hearing them laugh. "As usual, Henry, you have misunderstood," Ms. Adolf snarled. "I'm asking you to sit on the bench as a backup player who goes in the game when we need a substitute." "But I don't want to be a substitute, I want to be one of the main guys."

"In that case," Ms. Adolf said, "you may try out first. Let's see if you qualify. I want you to pick up the basketball, dribble from one end of the court to the other, and when you get to the basket, shoot." "No problem," I said, tossing my backpack on the floor. Frankie got up from the bleachers and handed me a basketball. "Stay calm, Zip," he whispered in my ear. "Focus. You can do this." I took the ball and walked to the end of the court. When I turned around and looked up at the basket, it seemed like it was miles away. On the one hand, that was bad. On the other hand, that was really bad. But I told myself that if I just used the old Zipzer attitude, I could do it. I took a deep breath and bounced the ball. To my surprise, it came right back to the palm of my hand. Hey, this wasn't so hard. I took a few more steps and bounced the ball again. There it was, right back in my hand. Look at me, world, I'm dribbling!