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Hoops

Product ID : 14093745


Galleon Product ID 14093745
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About Hoops

Product Description By the groundbreaking author of the award-winning Monster–a visionary who influenced and inspired a generation–this fast-paced and poignant story reveals the fierce underworld of sports. All eyes are on seventeen-year-old Lonnie Jackson while he practices with his team for a city-wide basketball Tournament of Champions. His coach, Cal, knows Lonnie has what it takes to be a pro basketball player, but warns him about giving in to the pressure. Cal knows because he, too, once had the chance—but sold out. As the tournament nears, Lonnie learns that some heavy bettors want Cal to keep him on the bench so that the team will lose the championship. As the last seconds of the game tick away, Lonnie and Cal must make a decision. Are they willing to blow the chance of a lifetime?    An ALA-YALSA Best Book for Young Adults     AWARDS FOR WALTER DEAN MYERS: New York Times Bestselling Author 3-Time National Book Award Finalist Michael L. Printz Award 5 Coretta Scott King Awards 2 Newbery Honors National Ambassador for Young People’s Literature (2012-2013) Margaret A. Edwards Award for Lifetime Achievement Children’s Literature Legacy Award                                                                           About the Author 1937–2014 WALTER DEAN MYERS was one of the premier authors of children’s books. Random House Children’s Books is the publisher of many of his titles, including On a Clear Day, 145th Street: Short Stories, Hoops, The Outside Shot, and What They Found: Love on 145th Street. Among his many honors are Monster, the first Printz award winner and two Newbery Honor Books, Scorpions and Somewhere in the Darkness. He is also a two-time recipient of the Coretta Scott King Award, for Now Is Your Time! and Fallen Angels. In addition, Myers has received the Margaret A. Edwards Award for his contribution to young adult literature. Myers was also named the 2012-2013 National Ambassador for Young People’s Literature. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. One of the things my father used to say was how his days were piling up on him. When I told him I didn’t know what that meant, he said one day I would. “Right now,” he said, “you got your days filled up with playing and going to school. Then after a while you gonna start dreaming about this and that, and you gonna lay your days out in front of yourself like an imaginary road. That’s what I did.” “Then what happened?” I asked. “Then they started piling up on me,” he said. He looked away and didn’t say anything else, and I knew the conversation was over. When he looked away like that, there wasn’t any use to keep on talking. After he split, I stayed around the house a lot. I did most of the things I was supposed to do, like making the school scene and helping out around the house. I got a little job at the Grant, a little run-down hotel, when I got to be sixteen. That was really okay. I could earn a few bucks, and I could crash there when my moms got on my back too much. By my senior year she was on my back just about all the time, too. Something had come up between us that put an edge on everything we did. It wasn’t anything I could really lay out and say, “Hey, there it is,” as much as it was a feeling. I’d be sitting in the kitchen eating and she’d come in and make some remark about how late I was staying out or something, and I just wouldn’t want to hear it. So I’d finish eating as soon as I could and then bust over to the Grant to spend the night there and cool out. When I thought about it, I knew it wasn’t so much that I had changed, or even that she had changed, but the situation was different than it had been, and we couldn’t talk about it. When I was younger, I used to tell myself I was going to do this or do that and I believed it. Now I didn’t know. For a long time Moms hung on to that old stuff, about me going to college and making something of myself. When I would lay in bed at the Grant, waiting for the next