Gramps picked up his water glass. As always, Lucas couldn’t believe how big his hands were, and how long his fingers were. They were old hands, and there were a lot of dark spots on them. But these were great, big basketball hands. When the old man was feeling frisky, he would palm a ball with one hand after he got one spinning on the index finger of the other.

“You boys still had to execute the press properly,” Gramps said.

“Yeah,” Lucas said, smiling. “I heard somewhere it’s a player’s game.”

“Well, it sure as heck isn’t a coach’s game,” Gramps said, “even though there’s a whole lot of coaches who act as if they invented basketball, instead of just putting their players in the best position to win the game.”

“Which is what you did today,” Lucas said.

“Eat your beans,” his grandfather said, “even though you’re pretty much full of beans already.”

“Wonder who he gets that from?” Lucas’s mom said.

“Must be your side of the family,” Gramps said.

After Lucas had finished his apple pie, he said to Gramps, “Hey, we’ve been talking so much about the game I forgot to tell you guys about this cool writing project Mr. Collins gave us in English.”

He explained it, and how it couldn’t be a parent.

“Good!” Lucas’s mom said, sounding so relieved that she wasn’t going to be his subject that they all laughed.

Then she said, “Even though I sort of know what the answer to this question is going to be, gonna ask it anyway: Whose life story are you going to write?”

“Gramps,” Lucas said.

“Oh, come on,” Gramps said. “Can’t you find somebody more interesting than an old man?”

“First of all, you’re not old,” Lucas said.

Gramps turned to Lucas’s mom.

“When was the last time the boy’s eyes were checked?” he said.

“I want to write about you,” Lucas said. “I want to know more about your life. There’s got to be stuff you never told me.”

“I can’t even remember the things I want to remember,” Gramps said.

“C’mon,” Lucas said. “It’ll be a blast.”

He felt the way he did trying to persuade Ryan to go outside for a game of H-O-R-S-E.

Gramps smiled at Lucas now, and reached across the table with one of his old hands and squeezed Lucas’s shoulder.

“You know me as well as you need to know me,” he said, “even if I’m not as great as you think I am.”

“How do you know, Gramps?” Lucas said.

Gramps smiled and said, “Because nobody could be.”

He squeezed Lucas’s shoulder again, got up from the table, and limped out of the room.

“Let’s go watch some basketball,” he said.

They were always on safe ground, Lucas knew, with basketball.

SEVEN