Laggan Lard Butts (7 page)

Mr. McGregor walked to the microphone at the front of the stage. He raised his hand to signal for silence. Slowly the entire crowd, including the teachers, raised their hands and
went silent. I kept my arms folded across my chest.

“Good morning, students.”

“Good morning, Mr. McGregor!” the crowd bellowed back.

“We are here today to practice something very important: democracy. One student, one vote, all of us equal, will decide.”

People started cheering and clapping.

“Your right to vote comes with a responsibility. You must choose wisely. Do not
waste
your vote.”

I felt my cheeks burning. Was it my imagination or was everybody looking at me and Tanner?

“We will now start with the first presentation. Please welcome Heather and Brian.”

The crowd gave a polite round of applause, and the two of them walked to the podium. They talked about why everybody should vote for Lynx as the name of the school team. They said that the lynx was native to the area and was powerful and small—small like our school.

That sounded like a pretty good argument. It also sounded familiar. Hadn't Taylor said those same things? I looked at him in the audience. He shrugged and gave a little smile. He hadn't been able to resist telling them his ideas.

They finished by holding up a big banner with a picture of a lynx. It was in shades of black and orange. Very nice artwork. Heather was probably the second best artist in the school. I started wondering what Sarah and the Leopards would hold up.

Everybody clapped. As Brian and Heather sat down Mr. McGregor welcomed the second pair.

“Go, Dragons!” somebody screamed from the crowd. A bunch of kids began to cheer.

I leaned in close to Tanner. “Will anybody be cheering for us?”

“I figure my brother will.”

“I kind of like the Dragons,” I said. “They would have got my vote.”

They finished their presentation with a cheer, and the crowd started to clap. If the
applause meant anything the Dragons had slain the Lynx.

That was two down, four more to go, and then us. I could hardly wait.

“And second to last, please welcome the Leopards,” Mr. McGregor announced. As Sarah and Katie walked toward the microphone the lights dimmed. When the gym was completely dark, music started to play. From the back of the gym a beam of light shot out onto the screen beside the stage—a screen I hadn't even noticed.

On the screen a leopard, a big beautiful leopard, walked along and then leaped into a tree. The leopard photo faded and was replaced with a striking drawing of a leopard. I recognized the artwork—she
was
the best artist in the school. The scenes kept changing until the back of a school uniform appeared on the screen. It had the name Laggan on the top and a big number four—
my
uniform number. I knew that was a dig at me. Before our eyes the sweater turned around to reveal the front with a drawing of
a leopard leaping across the jersey. Wow, it looked wonderful.

The projector light died, leaving us in complete darkness for a second before the gym lights came back on. Sarah and Katie were still standing at the podium.

“When you vote today, remember, think leopard, vote leopard,” Sarah said.

“Go, Leopards!”

Everybody started to clap and cheer. I almost cheered. I could picture myself in that uniform. Who, other than Sarah, would have thought of doing a PowerPoint presentation?

“And now for our final presentation,” Mr. McGregor said.

For a split second I'd forgotten we had to speak. How could we follow that?

“Please welcome Sam and Tanner.”

I slowly got to my feet on unsteady shaking legs. My stomach was churning and for a split second I wondered if there was a garbage can in the corner where I could throw up.

I was pleased and surprised by the cheering. It sounded like a whole lot of people were on our side—not as many as had cheered for the Leopards but more than any of the other names.

“Come on,” Tanner hissed, poking me in the ribs to get me to move.

We wobbled over to the podium, and Tanner stood in front of the microphone and started to talk. As he talked I looked out at the audience and then beyond them to the empty court and the basketball nets. I looked beyond the nets to the empty white walls. Most schools had banners hanging on their walls, banners celebrating team wins. Our walls were almost empty.

I felt a rapid rush of anger, then disappointment, then, strangest of all, satisfaction. We'd never won anything, but some of the happiest times I'd ever had were in this gym. It was one of my favorite places in the whole world. The more I thought that the better my stomach felt. I was going to miss being here. I was going to miss the people. I was even going to miss Mr. McGregor.

“And to conclude our presentation the captain of our basketball team, and co-chair of the Lard Butt campaign, would like to say a few words,” Tanner said, and people started clapping again.

I knew what I was supposed to say. I had practiced it until late the night before. I also knew I wasn't going to say any of it.

“A few minutes ago I looked at that screen and thought about how good it would have been to wear that uniform, that Leopards uniform. Wasn't it beautiful?” I asked. I started clapping and the audience joined in.

I looked over at Sarah. She looked pleased but confused.

“And then I looked up at the walls. Looked around the gym.” I paused. I knew people had no idea what I was talking about.

“Beautiful, clean, white walls. Most gyms have banner after banner hanging down from the ceiling, lining every wall. Banners for their championship teams, bragging about what they've done. Not our walls.

“We have a few banners. Mostly they're for participation in a tournament. No championships. No tournament wins. None. Not just for this year's teams but ever. The tradition of this school is not winning. But
still, year after year, we put together teams and we go out there and try.

“What was that saying on the PA the other morning? A winner never quits and a quitter never wins. We never win, but we also never quit.

“We could wear those Leopards uniforms. We'd look pretty sharp. We'd have a cool name. But in the end, let's be honest: I'm not a leopard. I'm a Lard Butt.” I paused. “And so are the rest of you. And I'm proud to be a Lard Butt. Go, Lard Butts. Thank you.”

Tanner and I sat down to a round of applause. A bunch of kids—most of the basketball team and others—jumped to their feet. They were cheering almost as loud as they'd cheered for the Leopards.

The game was starting in less than twenty minutes. The Maple Ridge Mustangs were in the other dressing room. They'd breezed through their two play-off games. They must have been pleasantly surprised—make that completely shocked—when they heard we'd won against the only team that they couldn't beat. Because of us they were probably going to win the championship. I hated them.

“There's quite the crowd out there,” Cody said as he came into the dressing room.

“I saw,” Tanner said. “I guess I get my wish for a big crowd.”

“I bet you'd like to take that one back, right?” I asked.

“Oh, yeah, in a second.”

“Lots of parents out there,” Cody continued. “I saw your mother,” he said to Tanner and Taylor. “And your father,” he said, pointing at me. I was happy my father was there, sort of.

Mr. Davidson and Mr. McGregor walked into the change room.

“Hello, boys,” Mr. McGregor said. “I want a few words with you before the game.”

We all sat up in our seats. This was the first time he'd talked to us before a game. I wasn't sure if he'd actually watched us play before.

“This is the first Laggan team to reach the finals in the six years I've been the principal here. Win or lose, this is the farthest any of our teams has ever gone.” He paused. “Even the losing team receives a banner to hang on their wall.”

Tanner and Taylor started clapping and
everybody joined in. Everybody except me. Was he writing us off as well?

“As you know we held the election for the new name yesterday. And, since the whole idea started with you boys, I want you to be the first to know the results.”

Now he had my attention—all of it.

“It was a very close vote,” he began. “In the end it came down to two names.”

“Which two?” Tanner asked.

“Leopards and Lard Butts.”

“Wow,” I said under my breath.

“Wow, indeed, Sam. That speech of yours was very powerful. I noticed you weren't using any notes. Did you have it memorized?”

“It just came out of my head.”

“And your heart, I would say,” Mr. McGregor added.

“So who won?” Taylor asked.

Mr. McGregor smiled. He was enjoying this.

“One hundred and sixty-five votes were cast. That's every student and every teacher. Ninety-nine votes were split between the top two choices.”

“How did Lairds do?” Taylor asked.

“Seventh place.”

“Forget who finished seventh. Who won?” I asked.

“By a margin of fifty-one to forty-eight, the new name of the Laggan school teams is...the Leopards.”

People groaned in disappointment. I didn't think any of the fifty-one votes came from this locker room.

“It was a close vote, and I know what name would have won if it was only the ten of you voting.”

“We gave it a good shot,” Tanner said.

“We just needed a few more votes. “ Taylor said. “So close.”

“Starting next year the school will be replacing its uniforms. You boys won't have a chance to be Leopards.”

“I guess we're the last Lairds,” Tanner said.

“You will be that, but you'll also be something else.” Mr. McGregor opened a green plastic bag he'd carried in with him.

“They're not fancy, but I think you'll like
them.” He opened up the bag and pulled out a white T-shirt. On the back was a large black number. He spun it around. On the front, in big letters, it read,
LAGGAN LARD BUTTS
. My

mouth dropped open. I was stunned.

“I had them printed up just for this game, just for you boys. They're yours to keep after the game. A thank-you for a good season.”

“I can't believe you did this,” I said.

“Why not? Aren't you proud to be a Lard Butt?”

“That wasn't just a speech,” I said. “I am a Lard Butt.”

“It was a very good speech. And you know what, I'm a Lard Butt too.”

He pulled out another shirt and held it up. It was identical to the others but in smaller letters in the corner was the word principal. He took off his glasses and pulled the T-shirt on over top of his dress shirt and tie.

“How does it look?” he asked.

“You look like a real Lard Butt,” I said.

“And so do you, even without the T-shirt. Let me hand them out.”

He pulled them out, one by one, reading
off the number and handing it to the player who wore that number. Player by player we pulled on our T-shirts.

“I think it's time we go out for our warm-up,” Mr. Davidson said. He had on a Lard Butt T-shirt with
coach
written in the corner.

One by one the kids filed out of the change room until only Mr. McGregor and me were left.

“Thanks,” I said.

“No, thank you,” he said. “Things are going to be pretty boring around here next year.”

“I could visit.”

“That would be nice.”

“Could I ask you a question?” I asked.

“Certainly.”

“Who did you vote for?”

“Secret ballot,” he answered.

“I know. I'm just curious. It wasn't Lard Butt, was it?”

He shook his head. “And it wasn't Leopard.”

“Well, at least Sarah is going to be happy that her name won,” I said.

“I'm sure she will. She put on a very good campaign. That girl will go far.”

“Hopefully in a different direction then I'm going,” I said.

“Maybe, maybe not. She's not the only one with potential.”

“Me?” I asked.

“Don't look so surprised.”

“It's just that Sarah is, you know, a cut above everybody else in the school,” I said.

“She does have many talents. Shame she's such a suck-up.”

My eyes opened in shock.

“Isn't that the word you kids are using these days to describe somebody who tries to get on the teacher's good side?”

“That's the word. I just didn't expect to hear it from you.”

“And you didn't. I didn't say a word. Now, just go out there and be a Lard Butt.”

“No problem. I'm a Lard Butt at heart and always will be.”