Time after time, Derek would get himself free on offense, call for the ball, only to be ignored. The ball holder would pass it to someone else who wasn’t nearly as open. Or he would drive straight into a double-team rather than pass it to Derek—an outsider who didn’t belong on this court with them.

Derek knew that it was happening, but he also knew it might not be obvious to any of the coaches.

“Yo, yo! Over here!” he called, only to be shunned yet again as the center took a difficult shot that was easily blocked.

By the time the coach signaled for Derek to come out and sent the starting point guard back in for him, the yellowshirts were trailing by eight points. They’d been tied when Derek entered the game.

He didn’t get to play again until there were less than two minutes left. The yellowshirts were trailing by sixteen now, and his teammates were already looking defeated.

That made Derek mad. He was determined to at least make things close. He drove quickly upcourt and put up a midrange jumper. Swish! His first points of the game!

The other team walked the ball slowly up the court, killing the clock. Derek watched for an opportunity, and as soon as the ball handler wasn’t looking, he snuck up behind him and knocked the ball away!

His teammate grabbed it and threw upcourt to the shooting guard, who laid the ball in.

Again, the blueshirts slow-walked the ball upcourt. Derek stuck ferociously to his man, harassing him so much that the kid committed a traveling violation. When the ref whistled it, he threw the ball down hard and gave Derek a withering look.

Derek looked away, not wanting to be diverted from his focus. Instead, he drove upcourt in a hurry, dished to the shooting guard, and watched him sink an open 3-pointer! Suddenly, with one minute left, the lead was down to 11!

The yellows narrowed the gap even further, but there wasn’t enough time for them to really catch the blues. The game ended with Derek’s team down by 6—but Derek felt better that at least he’d made a difference.

He hadn’t shot very well, of course. Only 1 for 4—missing two that he should have made easily! But on the other hand, he’d done lots of other things right. He could only hope Coach Nelson had noticed.

“Nice game,” said the yellow-shirted shooting guard. “You should try out next year.”

“Thanks!” Derek said, finally flashing a smile. He glanced over at the coaches, but they were all busy making notes—except for Coach Nelson.

Where was he?

“Derek?”

Derek swung around to find the coach standing right behind him. “Hey, thanks for coming down tonight. You did well.”

“Thanks, Coach.” Derek waited for what the coach would say next.