Date: Tue, 1 Dec 2015 21:49:21 -0800 From: Douglas DD DD Subject: Rough Edges Chapter 31 Welcome back for another chapter of "Rough Edges". Spring comes and the sap begins to flow hard and think in the preteen Wonkeys. This is my story to be used by permission. No matter what, you must be 18 to read it. And please, give to the Nifty Archive for the benefit of this and all other stories. I love reader emails. Douglas at thehakaanen@hotmail.com CHAPTER 31 SPRING BLOOMS The light was coming through the curtains when I woke up. It was nice to be able to sleep in. I've had a busy schedule what with my job, taking a couple of college classes, along with dealing with a future wife and a toddler daughter. I was lucky that Seth McCall, my boss, was able to work my truck driving job around my school schedule . He is a good man, somebody I've known since I was in middle school. There was a stirring next to me in the bed. I rolled over and wrapped my arm around the warm, naked body. "Good morning," I said quietly. "Hey," came the yawning reply. "It's not like you to wake up before me on a day off." "It's not a total day off. I have two classes later today." "You might want to shave this morning; you were Mr. Scratchy last night." "Yeah, like you were Mr. Smooth." I rubbed my hand along the stubble on the cheeks of my bed partner. "We're going to have to quit doing this pretty soon, you know." "Why, because you're getting married?" "Well, yeah." I slept with Scott last night because Marcie, my fiancé, and Kari, my little daughter, were in Seattle with Marcie's parents. Scott stroked my back with his large hand. "Doesn't mean you can't pay me a visit." "A married man is supposed to be faithful." I gave Scott a quick peck on the lips. Scott and I have never been passionate kissers and never will be – but a quick touch of our lips now and then seems to work like Viagra for both of us. "Only when it comes to fucking other women, not when you're fucking a man," Scott laughed. Scott and I had been off-and-on lovers for the last three years. Oh, I had plenty of sex with Marcie, my fiancé. In fact, I loved Marcie, which was not the case with Scott, although he was my best friend. Sharing an apartment in Centralia had been a good idea, but the idea had been to share an apartment not a bedroom, let alone a bed. A drunken night about a month after we moved in together led me to sleeping in his room, in his bed, with my cock up his butt. I had forgotten how much I enjoyed fucking a dude of the male persuasion. To me, it wasn't as good as pussy, but sex with a guy was still pretty good. I think in another life I would have been happy to have Marty as my significant other—I had a terrific crush on him in high school. For that matter, I still do, not that Scott is chopped liver. He's pretty sexy for a guy. I lived with Marcie, but that didn't stop me from getting a little from Scott on the side. "When are you getting yourself a woman?" I asked him. I reached over, ran my fingers through his thick bush, and toyed with his rapidly hardening penis. "Damn, dude, yer bonin' me up." Scott did his best to make it sound like he was complaining but he failed miserably. I gave his now rock-hard cock a final squeeze and ran my hand over his treasure trail. "Shit, don't kid my ass," I scoffed. "You love every minute of it and you know it. So when the hell are you getting yourself a woman?" "Sometimes I think I'd rather have a man. That makes me sound just like a Mayfield guy, doesn't it?" "Are you really gay?" "Nah, but I am bi. I could lean either way. But the dude I totally loved I lost way back in seventh grade." "Yeah, I know. You've been sorry ever since that day you left Eric to go fucking girls." "No, I wasn't sorry until later in high school when I became smart enough to see what kind of a person I was missing. I used to think if I was gay I'd want to get back together with him, and maybe even if I wasn't gay. That's the kind of guy he is." "In a way that was how I felt about Marty," I admitted. Before we could go any further with a conversation we'd had before, Scott's phone rang. "Who the fuck is calling this early in the morning?" he grumbled as I handed him his phone. "Dude, it's nine." "It is? Oh fuck, I have class at ten." He looked to see who was calling and put the phone to his ear. "Hey, Rich, what's up?...No shit?....When did this happen?....Yesterday? How come I didn't hear anything about it?...No, I didn't check Facebook or Twitter...Okay, got it, I'll tell him...Thanks for calling." "What was that all about?" "Coach Sanders." Scott handed me the phone and I put it back on the nightstand. "Yesterday he was named Class A State Baseball Coach of the Year." "Holy crap, that is awesome. Nobody deserves it like that dude does." "It's pretty awesome that they can recognize a gay coach. I guess it wasn't that long ago that if you were a gay teacher they could fire you. But here he is, state coach of the year." That really was awesome news. Coach Sanders and Coach Miller both meant the world to me, not because they were gay, but because they had a tremendous influence on me as a teen. I was a party boy teetering between being bad and being really bad. But they called me on my shit, made me behave during baseball season, not to mention football season, and gave me lots of encouragement to stay out of trouble. I have my current job because of them. I have my fiancé and my daughter because they made me into the kind of man Marcie wanted. Okay, I had my weaknesses, they being beer (I stuck to my three limit last night) and Scott's hot ass. While Marty and I were the bad boys on the team back in high school, Scott was the undercover bad boy. But the coaches got all three of us to walk the straight and narrow. One result was the two State Championship trophies in Scott's room and the one in the apartment me and Marcie shared. Of course Marty had a trophy, too. "We need to go out to the coaches' place and pay them a visit." "There's going to be a pizza feed at the Bear's on Saturday for players and those alums who can make it. That was what I was supposed to tell you." "Doesn't stop us from going out to their place." I looked at the clock. "You said you have class at ten?" "Yeah." "Can't skip it?" I felt my cock stiffen as Scott ran his fingers over the hairs growing between my pecs. "I probably shouldn't." he said in an I-really-would-like-to-skip-it tone of voice. "Damn, then we don't have time for another fuck." I pulled back the covers. I had aching hard morning wood, which Scott grabbed. He licked the head of my cock lustfully then said my precum tasted as great as usual and was almost worth skipping his lab for. Almost. Scott and I visited Coach Sanders and Coach Miller that evening. I think they were pleased to see us. We gushed our congratulations, which Coach Sanders took gracefully. I wasn't surprised when Scott and Connor showed up at the front door. Phil answered it and ushered my two alums into the living room. They told me how proud they were of me and how proud they were to have been members of the Mayfield Mustangs and part of all of the great things it meant. While I had heard all of this before, I always acknowledged the praise of my former players as if it was something fresh. The biggest reason for doing so was because I knew they weren't jerking my chain—they were being totally sincere about how they felt. "They could've done it quicker though," Connor groused, referring to the delay in my being named Coach of the Year. "I mean winning two straight championships should have won you the award." "Well, it didn't," I pointed out. "But now I've won it, and that trophy will sit in an honored spot in my den. It is nice item to have, but it won't win me a single game in the future." While I was proud of the current State Championship edition of the Mustangs, no team will ever replace my first two championship teams in my heart. Those teams came out of nowhere and earned their championships through years of hard work, starting in sixth grade when they conceived the "Go to State Team." I have a large 18x24 picture of the first championship team hanging in my den. Scott and Connor were both on that team. Connor was a senior that year and didn't play on the second championship team. Scott and Connor were examples of two adolescents who could have been big trouble, but gave of themselves to a winning cause. They weren't afraid to get dirty, were certain they were better than whomever they played, and they refused to acknowledge defeat until the last out was made. That was the team of the athletic Corcoran twins, the hard-working studs who took no prisoners. It was the team of Eric and Noah, who played the game with the intelligence few players at any level could match. It was the team of Marty, who turned his life around in high school and became an All- State player. And that was just touching the surface. It was also the team of Bobby O'Neal. A picture of the slender little redhead wearing a Mayfield Titans Middle School uniform hangs next to the Mustang team photo. Bobby died in a bicycle accident the summer before starting eighth grade. "When are you dudes getting married?" Connor asked. "Dudes?" Phil asked mockingly. That word is now a source of amusement between Connor and Phil, but the first summer Phil coached the summer team Conner's use of the word caused him to be suspended and almost kicked off the team. "Yeah, dudes, as in very cool dudes," Connor smirked. "Connor, you are still insufferable, which is why I love you so much." "What kind of role model are you going to be for your daughter when you go calling coaches dudes?" I asked. "A really good one, and for my son, who will be kid number two." "And if he ends up being a she? "Then I guess I'll have to work on kid number three." "You...um...dudes didn't answer the question," Scott pointed out. "All I know is that Connor and Marcie will be walking down the aisle before we do." I could sense Phil giving me the look that said, "Please." After the boys left Phil and I cuddled on the sectional. Okay, I guess young men is a better description of them than boys. "So when ARE we getting married?" Phil asked kiddingly. "You know my reasoning," I reminded him. "I do, and as always, I disagree." Of course Phil had yet to get down on bended knee which, in my mind, would be a sure sign he actually agreed with me. We didn't disagree on very much. After our initial, "Hi dude, I think I'm going to punch you in the gut," beginning, our disagreements became fewer and fewer and when we did have one we rectified the problem and forgave each other quickly. As January moved into February the Wonkeys became an even more tightly knit bunch of boys. Basketball and sex were our main focuses, however all of us except Phil and Perry made the honor roll. Phil was happy not to have any grades below a C, although math was close with a C- because of all the tests he tanked at the start of the school year. "I'm joining you guys on the honor roll at the end of the year," Phil declared. If it had been the Phil I knew early on I would have written that statement off as a line of bullshit. But the Phil I knew when he made the statement had a way of accomplishing what he set his mind on. When he and I did schoolwork together he put the same kind of grittiness and fight into it as he did into basketball. He'd already shown what he could do in math and I had no doubt he would raise the rest of his grades as well. As for Perry, he was happy being a B-C student. We figured his grades were his business and we were happy if he was happy. After our game on the second Saturday of February, our basketball team was still undefeated in league play. We had one game scheduled the same evening that the middle school team had an afternoon game. Tyson and David played two quarters for the middle school, so they could play two quarters for us. We were playing a team we'd defeated 40-24 the first time we played them, but this time the game was much closer as we were somewhat shorthanded. It was so much closer that the score was 22-22 with about 10 seconds left when Phil cut off a baseline drive and our opponent's guard threw the ball into a crowd. I came up with it and saw Nate break to the right side of the floor, just like he was supposed to. I hit him with a pinpoint pass, and he hit Tyson, who was breaking up the middle with a good lead pass, and Tyson got the ball to Jung on the left side. Jung, who was right handed, put up a perfect left-handed lay-in which dropped through the net as the buzzer went off. The play was a perfect example of fundamentals: defense, reacting to the situation, on-the-money passing, and an opposite- hand lay-in (yes, we drilled those every practice). The Saturday game was a 31-12 win that left us at 7-0 with three games remaining. There was a topic of conversation that was almost as big as the game, which we engaged in out of earshot of any adults: Phil would be spending the night at Ben's house. This was an orgasm challenge overnight and we would be eager to get the results. The visit by Scott and Connor had been a nice surprise. Unlike Eric and Noah, the twins, or Marty, they didn't make a habit of coming around our house during or after their high school years. "Do you think those two are bed buddies?" I asked Larry after they left. "Two handsome studs like that who used to live together and are graduates of Mayfield High School? Good God, no," he laughed. "Connor is getting married in August." "A lot of gay men think married men are hot." "Ah, but Scott isn't gay." "I guess you either weren't paying real good attention to him or your gaydar is shot." That put me into my place. "When do you think you and I showed up on people's gaydars?" "Oh, about halfway through sixth grade," he chuckled. "No way." "Maybe I exaggerate a bit, but we spent a lot of time clandestinely holding hands and making goo-goo eyes at each other. Some of that had to leak out somewhere." Now it was my turn to laugh. "And here I kept saying I wasn't gay." "You weren't fooling too many people, including yourself." "All too true." I sure don't think I fooled any of the Wonkeys, especially Ben the night we did our orgasm challenge. As much as I tried to say I was just messing around when we messed around, I was one of the most eager participants in the sexual shenanigans of the entire clan of friends. After our postgame milkshakes at Jubilee, I went to Ben's house. We had a pretty lofty goal to meet, mainly nine orgasms before ten the next morning. We had left the starting time open ended, agreeing that as long as it was after twelve noon any starting time was okay. Ben had told his brother Devon about the challenge. I didn't know if that was good or bad. Devon asked if he could watch, and we agreed he could at least once. "But the way the challenge works, you can't help us out. You can only watch." "I wish I had friends like you do," Devon protested. Ben's younger brother was in the fourth grade and would turn ten in March. Ben had turned twelve in January. I knew that Ben had taken Devon's cherry, but other than that one time he didn't talk about his brother much. I found out that night that they had become pretty regular sexual partners, although Ben had taken his brother's ass only two other times. "You will when they get older and get interested in sex," Ben assured him. Ben's parents often worked on Saturdays and this was one of those times, so we felt safe getting naked in Ben's bedroom. Devon took his clothes off right along with us, his little two inch cock sticking straight up into the air. The younger boy watched Ben as he went down on me and sucked my cock. "Please, can't I do it once?" Devon begged. "I can suck Ben while he sucks you." "We have to follow the rules," Ben said. "But nobody will ever know." "The Wonkeys don't lie to each other and don't cheat each other," I said righteously. I didn't know where that had come from, but it sounded perfect to me. I had indeed changed a lot over the last couple of months. "Can I jerk myself off while I watch you guys?" "Feel free," Ben told him. With the chatter all finished, Ben went down on me and stayed down on me until I shot my young seed into his mouth. Then Ben sat on his bed and I returned the favor. I noticed his dick had grown some, but he still had no pubic hair. He also was still dry, but that didn't stop him from having a dick- quaking orgasm. We were at two. Too bad we couldn't count Devon's. He had been furiously masturbating as he watched his brother receive a blow job and had his own dry cum within a minute after Ben's. After Ben's cum it was time for us to dress since his mother was due home soon and his father soon after. "Can I watch again tonight?" Devon asked. "Sorry, bro, but we had a deal," Ben answered. "I know, but I thought I'd ask," Devon said a bit dejectedly. Then his face lit up and he asked if we were going to fuck. I shook my head and Ben said it was agreed that there would be no fucking, implying that it was a rule of the challenge. I appreciated his doing that since it kept me from looking like a wuss. After dinner I asked Ben what his deal with Devon was all about. "I told him his reward for staying out of our way after dinner was that he could fuck me for the first time." "Has anybody ever done it to you?" I asked. Ben's red face said a lot. "Daniel?" His even redder face completed the scenario. The Wonkey virgins were rapidly losing their virginity. In fact we appeared to be in the minority with only Larry, Q, and me still having our cherries intact, and I wasn't a hundred percent sure about Q. We decided to dry hump next. "Do you kiss?" Ben asked. "Do you?" was my reply. I wasn't ready to commit myself. Yes, we all kissed some when we were in a group, but to my way of thinking that was different than two guys kissing in private. It was another example of the thin line between messing around and real sex. "I do with Daniel, but with nobody else," Ben confessed. "Not even with Devon?" "Oh, hell no, he's my little brother." I know the fact that Ben was willing to fuck his soon to be ten-year-old brother at the same time he was put off by kissing sounded incongruous, but once again we were in that netherworld of what sexual acts consisted of messing around and which ones were real sex. Ben had finally decided that dry humping each other would be much more fun if we kissed while we did it. Not only was it more fun, it also felt better, which got us thoroughly worked up as we rolled around on the floor, changing position, shoving our tongues into each other's mouths, rubbing our hands over all parts of our bodies, and grinding our cocks into each other's smooth damp skin . Ben's dry cum was first and my slightly wet one came within a couple of minutes as I squirted some clear semen on his abdomen. We now had four orgasms between us and wondered how Daniel and Jung managed to get off nine times between them during their overnight. Suffice it to say, we didn't make it. We tried jerking each other off on Ben's bed, but fatigue was overtaking us. I managed to get Ben off, but that ended the orgasms for the night. He draped his naked body over mine and we fell asleep. When we awoke in the morning we sat up in Ben's bed and watched each other jerk off to orgasm. We reached our morning time limit with seven orgasms. "No way anybody beats Jung and Daniel," I said. "We went at it hard and missed by two." "How did they do it?" Ben asked. "I don't know, but the last two pairs will really have to have their shit together." "Or their cum together," Ben giggled. Phil and Ben's failure to match Daniel and Jung made us realize it was going to be hard to catch the leaders. Phil was disappointed he didn't perform better, but he felt better when I sucked him off to back-to-back orgasms during our Wednesday after school study session. I was really getting to enjoy tasting his boy cum and went after it as much as I could. While Phil was still at odds with his sexuality I was starting to embrace mine. I found myself craving sex with boys and fantasizing doing sexual acts in odd places. One of my favorite jerk off fantasies was Daniel, Q, and me trading blow jobs in the PE showers with the rest of the class cheering us on while they jerked off over us. With that fantasy in my mind it was becoming harder and harder to avoid boning up in PE. That Friday, I did get hard in the shower and knew what I had to look forward to at Monday lunch. That Friday was Valentine's Day and I gave Phil a card before school that morning. I had battled all week what to write on it, but after my double BJ on Wednesday I made up my mind. "Please be totally mine" I printed over my signature. He smiled when he read it, but said nothing. After we finished eating lunch, he escorted me into the corridor outside of the lunchroom. It was the place where he had sucker-punched me, but it was now becoming a place of better memories. "I'm sorry I didn't get you a Valentine's card," he said apologetically. "It's cool." "No it's not. I didn't get cards for any of the Wonkeys, and they all gave me cards." "I don't think anybody cares," I assured him. "I just want to show you how cool I thought your card was." He glanced around, stepped up to me, and planted a long kiss on my lips while his left hand groped by rapidly expanding cock. I opened my mouth to accept his tongue, which I received, and moaned with satisfaction. He broke the kiss as quickly as he had planted it. "We don't want to get caught," he said. "I got more for you at your house after school." "You gave me a boner." "Like you didn't have one already. You told us what happened in PE. Besides, I have one, too." Once again he stunned me as he unzipped, pulled out his hard joy stick, flashed it at me, and replaced it into its hideaway. I stared at him, mouth agape. "You are almost as crazy as Perry," I finally said. "Nobody is as crazy as he is." That was a true statement if there ever was one. Phil spent the night and we kissed, dry-humped, and sucked ourselves to three orgasms apiece. We wondered what our number would have been if we'd been partnered for the challenge. We didn't care, because it all felt really good. We won our basketball game the next afternoon, beating the Hillside Recreation Pioneers 31-27 in a hard fought battle. We now had a two- game lead in league with two games to go. That night Tyson and Q hooked up for their challenge. We all ended up at Q's house Sunday afternoon, shooting baskets and talking sex. We were all turned on by the news that Q had fucked Tyson the night before. "Gawd, you can't believe how good that feels," Q told us. "I did him twice and we did it again in the morning. I can't wait to do it to a girl to see what feels best." "Did you do him?" I asked Tyson. "The first time really hurts," Tyson informed us. "And we wanted lots of orgasms for the challenge, so I didn't do him." "I figure you ended up with at least three," Jung said, counting on his fingers. "Yep, I came all three times I fucked him, but if Jung can figure that out, everybody can." "I only came once on Saturday night and once this morning," Tyson confessed. "That's all?" Perry asked. "Q's got some stuff to learn." "I'm going to become the world's greatest lover," Q grinned. We went back to our two-on-two games in Q's driveway, our thoughts shifting gears from sex to hoops. The weather was clear, but chilly. Still, we worked up some good sweats. After we finished playing, Perry, Phil, and I walked together, the hoods on our hoodies raised as we tried to keep our wet, sweaty heads warm. "We're the last ones left, you know," Perry told me. "I know, and we have to beat Jung and Daniel." "Or at least tie them," Phil pointed out. The one thing we'd all agreed on as far as the challenge went was that a tie was a tie and only the losers had to run the big streak from Q's house to the elementary school. "I have an idea," Perry said. "We can't cheat," I immediately cut in. I knew Perry well enough to know he didn't mind finding ways to bend the rules on occasion. "No way would I cheat the Wonkeys," Perry said with a hurt look. "Sorry. Anyway, go on with your idea." "The reason Phil and Ben didn't cum more is they got all sexy, kissing and humping and shit, and were trying too hard. And Q got all into fucking and that was too sexy." "You mean we have to be less sexy?" Perry smiled his sly grin. "Yep. Like Mrs. Caine, my math teacher says, sometimes less is more. I mean when I get all sexy and turned on and shit, I can cum two to three times. But sometimes I've jacked off as much as six times in one day, even when Dean's done it with me. I just jack off and get hard and then jack off and get hard and next thing you know I've had a ton of orgasms." "I guess it's worth a try. I want to win this real bad. Jung and Daniel have been acting like they're big time sex studs." As quiet as Daniel was, he did have a bit of an ego when it came to sex, going back to fifth grade when he stripped on the playground just to show us he had some tiny pubic hairs. We agreed that if our parents okayed it, we'd have an overnight at my house after Saturday's game. The goal was going to be ten cums. "Do you want to watch us, Phil?" I asked. "Yeah I do, but I think you guys should do it alone. I don't want nothing distracting you, including me watching." We ended up making one more change in our plans. Since there was no school on Monday because it was President's Day, we changed our overnight to Sunday so we would be totally fresh instead of maybe being a little tired from our game. Every bit of energy counted in our calculations. We won our game on Saturday 38-24 to clinch first place in our division. Tyson had a great game, scoring 20 while pulling down 11 rebounds. Perry's plan worked to perfection. He came to my house a little bit after one-thirty and we went right to work jacking off. By dinner time we'd cum three times apiece. All we'd done was sit side-by-side on my bed and jacked off, followed by a cool-down time spent playing games. We did the jackoff and rest routine one more time, then finished with a third autoerotic orgasm just before dinner. The fact that we were naked each time indicated to us that this was more erotic than some of the masturbation sessions we Wonkeys sometimes had on the sly. After dinner we played some more games and watched a movie. My mother told Perry how nice it was to see him here on his own. "It's hard to get to know you when you're always in a group of other boys," she told him. Perry looked like he wanted to find a place to hide, but he fought off his pubescent embarrassment and nodded politely. A little after eight, we felt like our batteries had recharged enough for another go. We were right and came within seconds of each other. We now stood at four orgasms apiece—eight in all. "There's no doubt we're going to beat them," Perry said. "We can even wait until the morning and be totally ready. My dick is getting a little sore." "Mine is too. I'm good with waiting until morning." "Or, we can try something different. If it doesn't work we still have the morning to jerk off." "Whatcha got in mind?" "Lay down on your bed." I obeyed his command and he got on the bed with me. "Turn sideways facing me." I did so. I shouldn't have been surprised when my cock disappeared into the wet environs of his mouth, but after all of our talk about not getting sexy, I was a bit startled. Perry's cock was inches from my mouth, so I decided what the hell, we had nothing to lose. After all, there was always time in the morning for us to jack off one more time. While my cock felt good in Perry's mouth, it was understandably slow to come to attention. But, I was eleven and naked with a cute redheaded boy on my bed. He had my cock in his mouth and I had his cock in mine. In the end, how could I not get hard? Perry was as slow as I was to get it up, but once we were erect, our erections were both three plus inches of steel. While our sex wasn't passionate, it was sincere and heartfelt. He worked on my cock, licking and sucking it. Perry started stroking my balls as he sucked me. He soon added another dimension to the affair by letting his hand wander to my ass. I could feel a finger rub my crack. It then journeyed inside and rubbed my grommet long enough to send a few jolts of electricity through me. The feelings generated had me sucking Perry's cock with more vigor. My hand soon found his ass, his crack, and finally my middle finger snaked its way into his dark, damp nether regions. The only noises in the room were the slurping of our tongues, our increasing grunts and moans, and our hard breathing. We sucked each other and finger fucked each other with increasing intensity. Perry found my sweet spot sending another jolt of fire through me. I found his hard little prostate and stroked it, causing the redhead to almost scream with delight. He came first. His passion had him face fucking me as he tried to drive his cock down my throat. Instead of letting up on me, he bounced his head up- and-down, sucking me hard on the upstroke, swirling his tongue around my cocklet on the down stroke. I held back with my cock and let him climax in my mouth, his cock going through numerous dry contractions—he'd shot out what little semen he could produce after his third orgasm. As soon as he finished I was so ready to cum that all I had to do was pull my cock back and shove it back into his mouth. Each spasm of my cock was fulfilling as I had my dry orgasm in his mouth. Before we could move we had to get our breath and our senses back. Even with four orgasms already that day, we found a way to make the two that gave us the lead something very special. "Wow," Perry finally breathed. "What a way to win." "I wished I could have tasted your cum," I lamented. "No problem. You'll get it next time." We kissed each other gently and then padded to the bathroom where we brushed and peed (not necessarily in that order). I also flossed, something Perry didn't do, or at least I'd never seen him do it. The next morning we jacked each other off and managed to get orgasms eleven and twelve before my mother called us to breakfast. We slipped on our t-shirts and boxers and headed down to eat half-dressed, just like old times. I called everybody after breakfast and before showering to give them the news. Perry's plan had worked to perfection, we were the champions and would be able to watch our fellow Wonkeys suffer when they ran the big streak. Today I have always thought it ironic that Perry, who, in sixth grade, was the ultimate horn dog in our group, got us the win by being a minimalist. The week went by in a hurry, and we were excited to see it move quickly. We had our last league basketball game on Saturday. We won our final game 49-19 to finish the league season undefeated. The next week would see us playing the winner of the other division, the Valley Carpets Hawks in a best two-out-of-three playoff for the league championship, with the third game to be played the following week if necessary. At lunch on Monday we were all thankful that we were sponsored by a hamburger restaurant. "I'd sure hate to have to eat pieces of carpet after a game," Q joked. "Yeah, who'd want to have a postgame snack that you'd have to vacuum before you can eat it?" I asked. "They should be called the Shags instead of the Hawks," Perry said. The third game ended up not being necessary. We won 28-26 on Tuesday when Q hit two free throws with three seconds left to give us the lead. The Hawks got off a half-court shot at the buzzer that came surprisingly close to going in for the winning basket. The second game on Thursday ended up not being as close. We fell behind 6-0 in the first two minutes, but Coach Zimmer kept calm, not wasting a time out. He yelled some encouragement and replaced Nate with Phil. We rewarded his confidence by taking a 10-8 lead at the end of the first quarter. We extended it to 22-14 at the half and 30-16 after three. Our Kamikaze defense had taken the starch out of them. We finished with a 39- 22 win and were undefeated league champions. Spring was two weeks away, which meant baseball turnouts were close at hand. As much as I liked basketball, baseball was my favorite sport to play and to watch. Phil and I played catch every chance we had. Like me, he had a good accurate arm. But, unlike me, he was a catcher while I was a pitcher. Phil said that when we played catch it reminded him of his games of catch with Andy. "Andy got me to like baseball," Phil said. "Now you're going to get me to love it." I wanted to pitch to him instead of play catch, but he said his coach from the year before really emphasized wearing shin guards, a catcher's mask, and a cup when getting down in a crouch to catch. While he owned a cup he didn't have the other accoutrements. When I mentioned that to dad, saying I didn't think Phil's mom could afford to buy him equipment, he took Phil and me shopping and Phil soon had a set of shiny new catcher's equipment. "Consider this a birthday present," dad said when Phil asked why he was buying him the gear. "But my birthday isn't until June." "So it's an early present." "But..." "And my son, the pitcher, needs a catcher to throw to." That reason made more sense to Phil than the concept of a three-month- early birthday present. He kept his mouth shut and after four days' worth of steady rain ended, we were in my backyard with him catching and me pitching. I'd never felt closer to Phil, even when we were cuddling naked in bed together. Next: First Summer