No Slam Dunk

No Slam Dunk

"A sure-fire hit with readers who love sports." -Booklist A fast-paced, heartfelt story for basketball fans that proves being a good teammate remains the most important quality in basketball--and in life, from New York Times bestselling author Mike Lupica. Wes' father always told him that there was only one ball in basketball. That you had to know when to take it yourself and when to give it up, that finding the right balance was key. So at every practice and game, Wes tries his best to be a good basketball player and, above all, a good teammate. As the season kicks off, Wes finds that not everyone on his team has the same idea. All-star player and the Hawks' point guard, Danilo "Dinero" Rey seems determined to hold the spotlight and the ball, even if it means costing his team the game. If the Hawks are going to make it to the playoffs, Wes will need an assist--even if it means his most important one comes off the court. In No Slam Dunk , #1 New York Times bestseller Mike Lupica demonstrates once again that there is no children's sports novelist today who can match his ability to weave a story of vivid sports action and heartfelt emotion. A touching story about teamwork and family, of selfishness and generosity, No Slam Dunk shows that even in the face of adversity, giving your best is the surest way to victory. Praise for Mike Lupica: -"Lupica is the greatest sports writer for middle school readers."-- VOYA on True Legend -"Lupica will win a Pulitzer for his sportswriting one day (he should have won it already)."-- The New York Times on Heat "Combining contemporary issues with basketball action, this middle-grade novel will be a sure-fire hit withreaders who love sports."-- Booklist "Boys, especially reluctant readers, will gravitate to this addition in Lupica’s sport genre books."-- School Library Connection "Lupica handles complex issues of scarred veterans, fathers and sons, and the difference between competition and battle with ease, making the familiar story of the redemptive power of sports feel new." --Kirkus "A book that kids will definitely step off the court to read." - - VOYA Mike Lupica  is a prominent sports journalist and the  New York Times -bestselling author of more than forty works of fiction and non-fiction. A longtime friend to Robert B. Parker, he was selected by the Parker estate to continue the Sunny Randall series. ONE  Everybody always says there’s only one ball in basketball. Now one had just hit Wes in the side of the face, making him feel like somebody had slapped him. Hard. It was a basic three-on-two drill: Wes on the right wing; Emmanuel Pike over on the left; Dinero Rey, the one leading the break, in the middle. There were two defenders waiting for them as they crossed half-court, waiting for Dinero to make the first move, to decide whether to keep the ball or pass it. It was less than an hour into the Annapolis Hawks’ first practice together. Wes was now Dinero’s teammate, a year after they’d been the stars of opposing teams in the sixth grade. As Dinero made his way down the court, Wes knew the defenders were expecting him to give it up. They knew what Wes did: Dinero was even better passing a basketball than he was dribbling it with either hand or shooting it from the outside or driving it to the basket. There was a reason why he was called Dinero even though his real name was Danilo. He was money. He was the smallest kid on the court. But that didn’t matter. He was fast and smart and flashy, with a game as big as his smile. A lot of kids his age could shoot and handle and blow past you if you gave them an opening. But it was what he could do with the ball that set him apart, Wes knew, from other kids their age, not just in their town, Annapolis, but maybe northern Virginia, too, and from all the slick ballers in Washington, D.C. Even though Dinero was only twelve, you could look him up on YouTube and see for yourself. Now the first pass Dinero threw his way, very first one, had hit Wes flush in the side of the face. Wes knew it was nobody’s fault but his own. “When you don’t pay attention,” his dad had always told him, “what you generally do is pay.” Dinero Rey had basically told him the same thing before they started the drill. Be ready if you’re open, he’d said. “I might not be looking at you,” Dinero said. “But you better be looking at me.” Then he’d given him a quick high five and that smile. “We’re gonna do big things, you and me,” Dinero said. “Just you watch.” Then Wes hadn’t been watching, and the ball caught him right next to his ear, bouncing off his hard head and out of bounds. The drill came to a stop in that moment, even though the ball kept rolling. Wes could feel the heat of where the ball caught him, could almost feel the impression of the ball, on a night when he was no different from everybody else on the court at the new Annapolis Rec Center, and wanted to make the best possible impres