Road Trip (7 page)

“Him? You want to interview him?” Coach Barton asked in amazement.

“Yes,” she said.

“But… but I'm the coach of the defending champion team… the New York City Wild Cats.”

“That's wonderful, really, and I know I'll get around to interviewing you at some point,” she said.

“But you want to interview him first?” he asked, sounding completely mystified.

She nodded.

“I played a little ball around here,” Coach said to the man, trying to explain.

“A little ball!” the reporter exclaimed. “You call leading your college team to three straight titles a
little
ball?”

“My team has won this tournament
four
straight times,” the New York coach said.

“That is certainly impressive,” the reporter agreed. “And that's why we'll interview you too… just not right now. So if you could please just move aside and let me interview Coach Barkley.”

She placed a hand on his shoulder and sort of pushed him away a few steps. He reluctantly shuffled to the side. I looked at the expression on his face. It was a combination of disbelief and anger. Not only didn't he see this coming, but he was angry it had arrived.

All of a sudden I was hit by the glare of a bright light, and I brought a hand up to shield my eyes. The big light of the camera had been turned on and it was aimed at Coach. The reporter held the microphone in one hand while she ran the fingers of her other hand through her hair. Her hair was all poofed up and she wore lots and lots of make-up. She was the sort of girl who was a
girl
. I could see her wearing a bigger version of Kia's dress.

“Do I look all right?” she asked the cameraman.

“You look fine,” he said. “Let's roll on this interview.”

“Okay, I'm ready.”

“Rolling in five… four… three… two … one,” and then he pointed at her.

“This is Elyse Parris reporting from the thirty-seventh annual Mumford Basketball Tournament, which brings together the best young basketball players of today. And with me is a former partici-pant in this tournament who went on to become a college star, play in the NBA and is now back as a coach to lead his team. With me is Len Barkley. Welcome.”

“Thank you, Elyse.”

“Len, how does it feel to be back here?”

“It feels pretty good.”

“And just how many years ago was it that you were a player in this tournament?”

“More years than I care to remember or admit.”

“Now we all know what happened in some of those years,” the reporter said. “I don't imagine there's anybody around the country who followed college basketball who will ever forget you leading your team to those league championships.”

“Those were good years,” Coach said.

“And I'm sure that since your college ball was just down the road from here, you have plenty of local people who remember you fondly.”

“And I have fond memories of them,” he said, sounding more like a politician than a basketball coach.

“One of the strongest memories many people will have of your college days was, of course, the injury that ended it all.”

“I remember that one pretty good myself.”

“Do you have any thoughts about what might have been if that injury hadn't ended your career?” she asked.

“I used to think about what could have been all the time.”

“Used to?”

Coach smiled. “It's been a long time. Besides, this tournament isn't about the past, but the future. I'm here with my team.”

“And a fine-looking bunch they are,” she said.

Slowly the camera moved off the coach and the reporter and began to pan around the table.

“So tell me about your team.”

“We're here representing the city of Mississauga.”

“That's where you're originally from, is it not?” she asked.

“I was born in that area and recently moved back to Mississauga with my family.”

“And is this team the champion in that city?” she asked.

“They represent the whole city… the best players of their age that Mississauga has to offer.”

“They look like a fine group of boys,” she said.

“Boys and
girl
,” he corrected her.

“Girl?” she asked.

“Yes… this young lady at our table is a member of our team.”

“Isn't that wonderful!” the reporter gushed. “I'd just assumed she was your daughter!”

The reporter moved over toward Kia – and me – and the camera followed right after.

“She's been a member of the Magic rep team for three years and plays either point or small forward,” Coach explained.

“So tell us, Kia, how does it feel to be one of the only girls in this tournament?” the reporter asked.

“Um… I don't know,” she muttered.

That didn't seem like Kia, to be at a loss for words, although I wasn't sure if I could say anything either. Something about having the bright lights of the camera pointed at you could dry up your words pretty quick.

“She's actually the
only
girl in this tournament and only the
second
girl in the history of this tournament,” Coach explained.

“That makes it even more extraordinary!” the reporter gushed. “So, Kia, how long have you been playing basketball?”

“Um… as long as I can remember… even longer,” she stammered.

“And what made you decide to play on a boys'
team?” she asked.

Kia shrugged. “I've always played on this team.”

“Surely there must be girls' teams where you could play,” the reporter said.

“Sure,” Kia said.

“And those teams must compete in tournaments as well,” the reporter continued.

“I guess so, but then I wouldn't be with my friends… I've always played with Nick.”

“Nick?” the reporter asked.

“Nick is my best friend,” Kia explained. “We've always been friends and played together and been on the same team.”

“And which one of these boys is Nick?” the reporter asked.

“This is Nick,” she said, tapping me on the arm.

I gave a weak little smile and waved, although the camera was still aimed directly at Kia.

“Has it been difficult playing with boys?” the reporter asked.

“Difficult?” Kia questioned. “I'm a better player than most of the boys!”

The reporter laughed out loud. “That's great to hear, but I didn't mean how you play, but are you ever given a hard time for playing with the boys?”

Kia shook her head. “Only a jerk would hassle me, and who cares what jerks think?”

Again the reporter laughed out loud. She then turned from Kia to face the camera directly.

“I was going to ask if you ever get accused of being to much of a tomboy, but no one could ever say that about the way that you're dressed,” the reporter said.

I could see Kia's expression harden.

“Do you always dress so femininely?”

“You mean in a dress?” Kia asked.

“A very
lovely
dress,” the reporter added.

“No… do you?” Kia questioned.

The reporter looked visibly thrown by Kia being the one to ask the question. She quickly recovered.

“We are certainly covering an interesting human interest story! Kia is one of only two females ever to compete in this tournament, and I'm sure we'll be following her – and her team – as the tournament continues. This is Elyse Parris for channel two news!”

“And cut!” called out the cameraman. He turned off the big light and lowered the camera.

“How did that go?” the reporter asked anxiously.

“It went fine… good,” the cameraman replied.

“Excellent.” She turned to face Coach. “I think there are outstanding possibilities for this story. What would you think about us following your
team throughout the tournament?”

“You're certainly free to follow any team, including ours,” he replied.

Wow, that would be amazing to have a TV reporter following us around! I could see by the expressions on everybody's faces that they thought the same thing. Tristan straightened his tie, like he was thinking the camera was coming right back on and he wanted to look his best. He did look pretty snazzy.

“How about right after the reception we set up another time to do more interviews and — ”

“There won't be any more interviews tonight,” Coach said.

“Why not?” she questioned.

“Because we're here to play basketball and not give interviews.”

“But it won't take much time and — ”

“It isn't a question of the time as much as the distraction the interview will cause, and we don't need any more distractions than this tournament already offers.”

“I'll be brief, and besides, I'm going to mainly focus on Kia and — ”

“Sorry,” Coach said. “You've already interviewed her, and I really want this to be about the team, not any individual.”

“But you have to admit that Kia certainly is a
unique
member of your team.”

“There are many unique members of this team,” Coach said.

“But you said yourself that she is one of only a few girls who have — ”

“One of only
two
girls,” Coach corrected her.

“Yes, two girls,” the reporter said. “One of only two girls who have ever competed in this, the most prestigious tournament for youngsters in the entire country.”

“And I'm sure it would make wonderful news,” Coach agreed, “but we're not here to make news. We're here to play ball.”

“Certainly, but wouldn't your players, wouldn't Kia, enjoy being the subject of our interviews?”

“I just want to play basketball,” Kia said.

Coach gave a big smile. “You heard what she said.”

“How about tomorrow?” she persisted. “Could we have a few minutes tomorrow?”

“We're busy tomorrow,” Coach said. “We're playing in a basketball tournament.”

“What about at the end of the tournament?” she asked.

“After all the games are over?” Coach asked.

The reporter nodded.

“I'm not saying no… but I'm not saying yes. Let's just see how it goes.”

“It wouldn't be a distraction then and — ”

“Could everybody please take their seats, we're about
to begin!” called out a loud, amplified voice.

I spun around in my seat. There was a man standing just in front of us by the podium. The long table at the front was now filled. Scanning the whole room, I noticed that almost all the tables were now packed, and those seats that were empty quickly started to fill.

“It sounds like we're going to have to stop now,” Coach said.

“Maybe we can talk afterwards,” the reporter pressed.

“After the reception, no,” Coach said. “After the tournament… maybe.”

“Good evening and welcome to the thirty-seventh annual Mumford International Invitational Basketball Tournament,” the man at the microphone called out.

There were cheers and hoots in reply.

“My name is Mike Riley and I'll be the master of ceremonies for tonight as well as the chief official for the tournament. In addition, I am the mayor of Mumford, and as such I want to formally welcome you to our fine city!”

A round of applause rose from the crowd and we joined in, even though I wasn't exactly sure why.

“We take great pride in our tournament and particular pride in our Mumford team – who you'll
meet during the course of the reception. Now, I want you all to look around,” he continued. “Gathered around you in this room are the very best basketball players of your age from across North America.”

A shudder went up my spine. Here we were with the very best… did we even deserve to be here?

“And,” the speaker continued, “showing the global impact of basketball, this year we have teams from both Europe and Asia!”

“Asia?” Kia asked. “I knew about Europe but not Asia.”

Coach leaned forward. “There's a team from Japan and one from Korea.”

That was amazing. I looked around the room trying to see if I could find one.

“Could I ask the team from France, the team from England, the team from Korea and the Japanese team to please stand up?”

To the sound of scraping chairs, the players at two tables at the back, one close to the door and a table just over from us rose to their feet.

“Let's give them all a big round of applause for coming so far!”

We all politely clapped and the players sort of bowed and then sat back down.

Kia leaned toward me. “Was that the team from
Japan over there?” she asked, pointing to the nearest table that had risen.

I shrugged. “Japanese or Korean, I guess… at least, they sort of looked Japanese or Korean.”