Tennis Ace (5 page)

Each boy won a point, bringing the score to fifteen—forty. Darren sent the ball whizzing down the centerline, but Steve got
to it in time. Darren
flogged it back to Steve and charged the net. But Steve drove him way back with a lob, then came in himself. Darren stayed
behind the baseline, expecting a smash volley, but Steve hit a soft drop shot to win the game.

If Steve held serve, he’d win the first set. Darren knew it, too. He bore down hard on every point, taking no chances, racing
for each shot. Steve matched him in intensity, and the game went to forty-all. The crowd was roaring encouragement, obviously
enjoying the battle.

Steve’s next serve was down the middle, and Darrell, caught leaning the wrong way, made his first error of the game. The ball
hit the top of the net and dropped back on his side, making it Steve’s advantage.

Steve bounced the ball and took a deep breath. He aimed his serve right at Darren and sent the ball over the net with as much
force as he could muster. For a split second Darren froze, then managed a tentative return. Steve put it away with an overhead
smash.

“Game and set to Greeley,” announced the umpire. “He leads one set to none.”

Darren looked grim as the second set began. Steve knew that the match was far from over.

The second set was as even as the first had been, but Steve made two more unforced errors on volleys that gave games to Darren.
Darren won six games to three, tying the match at one set each. The third set would decide it.

Darren now seemed to get cautious, as if he was more concerned with not losing than with winning. He took a little power off
his first serves. When he returned serve, he stopped charging the net and stayed on the baseline.

Steve, on the other hand, played more aggressively. He took advantage of the softer serves to come to the net more often,
which got him some points and cost him others. He wished his serve-and-volley game were more consistent. If it had been, he
believed he might have taken the third set — and the match — pretty quickly.

As it was, he was leading three games to two after five games, with Darren about to serve. Steve was just behind the baseline,
expecting another less-than-sizzling first service. Instead, the ball rocketed into the service box and by him as if it had
been shot
from a cannon. Before he knew it, Darren had won the game, with two aces and two beautiful volleys.

Now it was Steve who was feeling uncertain. He began the next game with a double fault. He suddenly felt weak, as if he were
playing on quicksand with a twenty-pound racket. Darren took the game, with Steve getting just one point. Steve now trailed,
three games to four.

Somehow, he knew, he had to get himself together fast. Otherwise he’d lose the match. Even if he didn’t care about impressing
Vince, he didn’t want to lose.

F
ortunately, it was time to switch ends of the court, so he had a moment to sit down. He drank something he couldn’t even taste
and took some deep breaths, leaned back, and shut his eyes for a second. When he opened them, Ginny was watching him from
in front of the stands.

“Hey, bro,” she called. “Don’t panic. Just play your game and you’ll beat this guy. He’ll run out of gas, you wait and see.”

Steve smiled and nodded. He wiped the sweat off his face and stood up.

This time he positioned himself well back of the baseline, and when Darren’s rocket serve came, he was ready for it. He returned
it with a topspin forehand that darted away from the end of Darren’s racket. But on the next point, Darren came back
with a sizzling serve right at Steve’s chest. Steve couldn’t handle it, and the score was even.

Both players sensed that this game was crucial and played as hard as they could. They went to deuce, a tie of forty—forty,
and both Steve and Darren survived several game points. Finally, Darren missed a first serve.

Steve decided to gamble. When Darren reared back to serve, Steve moved in front of the baseline.

Sure enough, Darren’s second serve was soft. Steve hit an overhead smash, racing to the net behind it. Darren barely got a
lob back over the net. Steve put it away with another smash. Advantage, Greeley.

The next point seemed to go on forever. Steve made one incredible diving save, but Darren dashed across the court and returned
it. Finally, Darren made an unforced error, hitting what should have been an easy backhand into the net, and the game was
Steve’s. The set was even at four games apiece.

Both boys held serve for the next four games, making the score six to six and setting up a tiebreaker. Once again they sat
down for a few minutes before changing ends of the court.

As he took the court to receive Darren’s serve, Steve tried not to think about the ache in his shoulders and back. It had
been a long, hard-fought match so far, and now it felt to him like the
real
match was just starting. He hoped that his opponent was feeling some aches and pains, too.

In a tiebreaker, one player serves once, then they take turns serving twice, switching ends after each has served. Whoever
gets to seven points first, winning by two, wins.

Darren’s first serve didn’t give the impression of fatigue. It was another boomer, down the middle, good for an ace. It was
Steve’s turn to serve, and he hit a solid shot to Darren’s backhand side, charging the net as he did. Darren’s return was
cross-court to his own backhand. Steve lunged for the ball but could only tip it into the net. Darren led two—love.

Steve won the next point after a long baseline-to-baseline duel. But Darren won the next two points on his own serves to lead,
four—one.

Steve tried serving straight at Darren’s chest, but Darren sidestepped and hit a strong forehand return that Steve had to
reach for. His shot tipped the net … and bounced softly over for a lucky point.

He took the next point with a beautiful ace, a shot that kicked up chalk in the very corner of the court. The score was now
four—three.

The bleachers were completely full, and everyone was standing, cheering and applauding after every point. Steve noticed that
even Vince was on his feet.

Darren’s next two serves were split and the score was five—four. A single mistake, Steve told himself, would probably cost
the match.

He decided to stay aggressive and charged the net behind his serve. But he misjudged Darren’s return and the ball swerved
into him, caroming off the frame of the racket and plopping into the net. Darren now led six—four. Steve had to win the next
two points just to get even. If he lost one, the match was Darren’s.

He hit a topspin serve that Darren returned to his forehand. Steve replied with a cross-court smash. Darren dove for it, reached
it in the nick of time, but then couldn’t recover.

Seeing his opponent off balance at the edge of the court, Steve put away a winner to Darren’s backhand side. Six to five,
and Steve had to win the next point, too.

He returned Darren’s serve deep to Darren’s forehand side, and the players began a long baseline exchange, moving each other
from side to side. Neither wanted to risk moving in. Steve was tired and hoped Darren was fading too.

Then Darren made a mistake. He started across the baseline before Steve hit the ball, assuming that Steve would want to make
him run. But Steve surprised him, hitting the ball down the line to where Darren had just been standing. Darren couldn’t backtrack
in time. The tiebreaker was knotted at six—six.

Steve was relieved to have a chance to sit down for a moment before they switched ends of the court.

What will Darren do now? he asked himself. He thought back over the match, trying to recall the points Darren had won decisively.
His cannon serve had proven to be his best weapon, Steve decided, standing up to return to position on the court.

Darren prepared to serve. With the match on the line, Steve stepped back two paces to get ready for it.

Whap!
And here it came, like a blur! Without
thinking — he had no time to think — Steve got his racket behind the ball and sent it back over the net. He moved forward,
backhanded the next return across the court, and, when Darren hit a soft, weak lob back, smashed the ball past him. He was
at match point and the serve was his.

The crowd was yelling, but Steve barely heard them. He held the ball loosely in his left hand and glanced at Darren. Darren
was bouncing on his toes. With a deep breath, Steve tossed the ball up and smashed a topspin serve that tagged the centerline.

Darren lunged after it but couldn’t reach it. He lost his footing and fell, then lay motionless for a moment before slowly
getting up and walking to the net. Steve shook his hand and trudged toward the sidelines, too tired to celebrate his victory.

T
he first person to reach Steve was Ginny, who threw her arms around him and hugged him happily. Pat Carbo stuck out his hand
for a high five. Some adults he didn’t know slapped him on the back and congratulated him. Then his father, mother, and Vince
appeared. Vince was smiling broadly.

“You looked good out there!” he said. “I’ll talk to you later.” He turned to Ginny. “I have some phone calls to make, but
I’ll be back in time to watch your match.” He hurried away.

Ginny’s smile could have lit up a city.

Pat leaned toward Steve. “Hey, you want to go celebrate at the mall? I’ll treat you to a game of pinball.”

Steve smiled happily. “Absolutely! I want to watch Gin’s match and then let’s go.”

Mr. Greeley put his arm around Steve’s shoulders. “You made me proud out there, son. You really did.”

Steve was startled and pleased by the praise. “Thanks, Dad.”

His father nodded and continued. “I just have a few notes for you … there are some things we have to work on before the finals.
Especially your serve-and-volley game. That hurt you today.”

At first Steve wasn’t sure he was hearing right. Was his father
criticizing
the match he’d just played? He realized he had heard correctly and his body sagged.

Mrs. Greeley had heard, too, and said, “
Ted
,” in a warning voice.

“What?” demanded their father, looking bewildered. “I
said
he did a good job! I just wanted to point out a couple of problems, while they were fresh in my mind, that’s all.”

“You can talk about that later,” his mother said, frowning at him. “Let Steve enjoy his victory for a little while, all right?”

“I’m happy he won!” Mr. Greeley looked confused, as though he couldn’t understand what the problem was. “I just wanted —”

“Dad, can we talk about my mistakes later?” asked Steve. “
Please
?”

His father shrugged. “Okay, okay. Just as long as we do it. How about after Ginny’s match?”

Steve nodded. “For a few minutes, all right.”

Ginny glanced at her watch. “Speaking of my match, I have to get going. Bye, guys.”

“Good luck, hon,” called Mrs. Greeley as Ginny hurried away.

“Go get her!” yelled Steve.

Ginny waved in response as she headed toward the locker room.

“Who’s she playing?” his father asked.

Steve was startled that his father had forgotten their breakfast conversation. “She’s playing Maddy Stern. Ginny should romp.”

“I’m sure she will,” his father said, as they made their way to the court where Ginny’s game would be played.

Just before Ginny served to begin the match, Vince ran up and joined the Greeleys in the stands. He patted Steve’s shoulder
as he sat down and thereafter had eyes only for the tennis.

Sure enough, Ginny easily won the match, six—one,
six—three. When she came over to accept the congratulations of her family, she was hardly breathing hard.

“Way to go, Gin,” said Steve, exchanging low fives with her.

“Lookin’
tough!
” his mother chimed in.

“Very impressive, Ginny,” said Vince.

Ginny turned bright red and stammered out her thanks. “Will you be able to see the finals?” she asked.

“I’ll be there,” replied Vince. “I look forward to watching both of Ted’s kids. Ted, old buddy, you really turned out a couple
of winners here.”

Mr. Greeley grinned broadly.

Vince shook hands all around. “See you tomorrow,” he said, as he turned and hurried away. Steve thought that Vince must spend
a lot of his time rushing here and there.

“Yo, Steve!” Pat Carbo waved to him from the parking lot. “You all set?”

“Two minutes!” Steve said. He turned to his father. “Dad, I have to go. We’ll talk about my game tonight, okay?”

His father frowned. “Hold on a minute, Champ. We were going to work on your serve-and-volley game for a while. I thought we’d
find a practice court right now and —”

Steve stared in disbelief. “
Right now
? I just ran myself into the ground a little while ago, getting into the finals, Dad. This can wait till tomorrow.” It was
a rest day, before the finals.

His father shook his head. “It’s better to concentrate on these problems while they’re still fresh in your mind. I think we
should do it
now
.”

Steve was hot and tired and decided that he wasn’t going to give in. “Dad, I’m all played out today. I need a break. So I’m
going to the mall with Pat for a while, all right? I’ll see you at dinner, and you can give me your notes then, and we can
work anytime tomorrow.”

“But —,” began Mr. Greeley.

Steve, however, had started running toward Pat. He grabbed Pat’s arm, forcing him to run with him. He didn’t slow up until
they were out of sight of the tennis courts.

“Whoa!” said Pat, catching his breath. “What was
that all about? You just won a big match. How come your dad looked unhappy?”

Steve scowled. “He wanted me to go practice some stuff with him, but I said I was going with you. He didn’t like it.”

Pat whistled. “He wanted you to practice right after you’d played a long match? How come?”

“That’s just how he is,” Steve said. “Dad wants me to be a big tennis star. He wants me to go to a tennis camp for the summer
that a friend of his runs, and I don’t want to. I don’t like the idea of doing nothing all summer but playing tennis, talking
about tennis, and dreaming about tennis.”