Date: Sun, 11 Mar 2001 21:29:36 -0500
From: Nails Nelson <nailsb69@hotmail.com>
Subject: Chapter 11, Basketball Camp

Warning!  This story describes love (but no sex)
between teenaged boys and between a man and a boy.
 If you are underage, leave now.  IF you do not enjoy
such stories, why did you get in here, past all the
warnings and barriers?  LEAVE!  All others please give
me feedback after you've read it.  This is a rewrite of a
chapter that seemed to end of the story.  For those who
read the other version, is this better?



                    		    The Championship
Game
                         		Basketball Camp, Chap. 11
                                     		by Bob Nelson



The Ferocious Five have done so well they get a "by"
into the semi-finals, so they are already in the
Final Four for this weekend.  They've earned it.  I hope
my past encouragement and being here
today will helped them play their best.  Their natural
abilities plus the way they've incorporated the
Coaches' training should carry them to an easy
championship.   "My team," with "My David" leading it,
are playing well in this semi-final game -- like a team
that's played together for a couple of seasons!
However, Charlie and David are both acting a little
different, one "up" one "down."  It's easy to see that
David is really hyped, bouncing around, grinning, what
they call "full of himself."  He's making some good, clean
steals and doing some of his razzle-dazzle.  Maybe
some zing from our incomplete love match, last night?
Charlie is acting very different; just the opposite of
David.  He's been all business: a little abrupt with Pete,
Enzio and Tony but almost completely ignoring David
except to pass the ball or help him block.  Kind of
mechanical.  That's it.  He hasn't smiled or joined in the
excitement of the game.  He glanced at me once as they
got here, but it was a scowl.  Since then, he's pointedly
avoided looking at me.  He's just focused on the
technicals.   Something's seriously bothering him.

 In this game they blow the other team away with a score
of 29 to 16 -- in a twenty-minute game!
They take a break and come over to sit with Spike and
me to watch the other semi-final game with the third and
fourth highest ranked teams.

"Hi Bob," David greets me as he gets close, "what did
you think of our game?"

"Game?  Wasn't that just a minor scrimmage to warm
you up for a game?   Those poor guys didn't know which
one of you to block.  You all did an excellent job blocking
them, combining zone with a man-on-man defense to
keeping them off balance.  I told you Defense wins more
games than
Offense."

"Yeah, and so did the coaches," Charlie answers as he
comes up.  Does he sound sullen, or angry?

"Glad we agree, but listen to them not me, since they're
the coaches and they know the game and the game they
want you to play," I reply.  "But you guys are probably a
little thirsty from that light workout.  Anyone want some
water?  I brought six little ones in this mini cooler that I'm
sitting on."

"Thanks, Bob, I would," Pete says.

"Me, too," Enzio and Tony chime in.

"YEAH," David says, bounding over with smiling
enthusiasm..

I get off my cooler seat, open it and hand out new bottles
of cool water.  I'd shown them to the Assistant Coach
when I brought it up, getting his OK to let the boys have a
quarter liter apiece.   I'd heard that ice-cold water or too
much water right after exercise can cramp a guy up, and
the coach agreed.

"Sure, why not?"  Charlie says, digging in to take one.
"Thanks."

He seems sullen, morose.  Sad? Angry?  Definitely
withdrawn and so different from the happy kid of the past
few days.  The boys each take a drink, then ask me what
I thought of certain plays they'd tried.

"Did you see how David charged in then fed me the ball
at the last instant when they'd triple teamed him and left
me wide open?" Pete asks.

"It was beautifully executed, Pete.  I thought you were
going to slam dunk it and hang from the hoop," I tell him.

"I can't quite slam dunk and besides, the Coach told us
all the first day we were NOT to slam dunk.
He ran a Round-ball camp last year where they played
the final games inside.   When one of the tallest boys
slam-dunked one, his feet swung under the basket and
when he came down he hit his head pretty damn hard on
the floor.  Knocked him out and his breathing got pretty
shallow.  They called 911 immediately, of course, but by
the time the ambulance got there he was OK except for
a bad headache.  There was no Trainer and it was real
scary for everybody until he came around.
They took him to the hospital for a quick exam anyway,
just to make sure.  So we don't slam dunk."

Tony looks at Pete with new respect and a small smile,
"Gee, Pete, you tell that story as good as
Charlie would, and better than the Coach did.  All the
facts without anything extra.  It's easier to remember the
way you said it."

Pete shrugs it off with "Well I have to simplify it to
remember it."

David winks at him and says with a grin,

"Yeah, Pete, we know you make it short & sweet, just
like Charlie does, but it isn't because KISS applies to
either of you.  Defiinitely not!"

He looks at Charlie after looking at Pete.  He has a
worried look, wondering where he's at.   We can all hear
David's emphasis on the key words, like he's
pronouncing the capitals, and Enzio responds,

"You keep it simple, Pete, but Stupid sure doesn't apply
to you or Charlie!"

"Naw, sure doesn't," replies Enzio.

"Nope," adds Tony, "you clarified some of the coaches'
instructions.  I like that word, clarify.  I just learned it a few
weeks ago and I think it fits here, doesn't it Bob?"  he
says as he turns to me.

"Exactly right, Tony.  Clarify means you make something
clear, like cleaning mud off a window."

We chat a bit more, and three of the boys head off to the
gym to take a whiz and wash up.  They say they want to
check out the trophy case, too, as this is their last
chance.  That leaves Charlie, David and me alone for
five to ten minutes, which is what I was trying to figure out
how to do.  Just goes to show that if we let things
happen naturally, they usually turn out better than
anything we force.  We three are on top of the grassy
bank above the basketball courts.   David moves closer,
almost leaning against me, as Charlie sits five feet away
with his arms around his knees.   I figure this may be the
only semi privacy I have with them before they leave and
say,

"David, Charlie, I'm glad we have a few moments alone.
I have really important things I want to clarify."

"Gonna clear some mud off the glass?" Charlie says,
sullenly.  He's glowering, now.

"Yes, Charlie.  But why are you angry?  You played pretty
well in that last game, but nowhere near your potential or
as well as you've played all weekend.  What's your
problem?"

He leans forward with his jaw tensed, eyes squinting in a
terrific scowl as he says in a heavy whisper so he won't
alert the staff,

"YOU'RE the problem, Bob!!!  You and your damn
seduction of David!!!   I know what you did last night,
after you'd told us, especially him, that there would be no
sex  this weekend.  At least none between you two!"

David's mouth and mine drop open.  We're stupefied,
but David recovers first,

"What the Hell do you mean, Charles David Winchester?
  How do you 'know' that we had sex?   Where and when
do you THINK we did?"

"When you went over to his house, last night, of course.
Just a little love nest, handy to campus," he says to
David, vehemently.  "He's probably had dozens of
college guys -- and boys from these basketball camps --
over there."   Turning back to me he says,

"You lead 'em on with praise, sweet words, and
promises, then bang 'em and throw 'em away!  Isn't that
the way you do it, Doctor Bob?"

The hate, anger, and disgust in his voice cut right
through me, but before he's through, I get angry at his
putting a few pieces together all wrong.  I take a deep
breath to get ready to reply, but David's
already jumped in.

"No WAY, Charlie!   No - FUCKIN' - WAY!!!"

I see the Head Coach look up at us with a frown.  I wave
to him, nod Yes and frown back, trying to show that I
have the problem under control.  I turn my hands palms
down and move them up and
down to signal the boys to "Hold it down," mostly so the
Coach can see it.   David glances at me then
down at the Coach.  He nods and continues tight and
angry at Charlie, but in a much quieter voice,

"What gave you the clue, Sherlock?   What makes you
so damned sure?"

Charlie glares back at him and in an equally low,
intense, growling whisper, answers with a scowl,

"The strong smell of your CUM on your shorts when you
came in -- at midnight!   I told the Coach twice on his
bed checks that you had an upset stomach or a case of
the shits and were in the john,
but you'd been in bed except just when he checked.  I
don't think he believed me.  Then you come in
all happy, almost giggling, and smell like a cheap whore
who's just been laid!"

Whirling toward me, Charlie continues,

"You BASTARD!  You two-faced, self-centered, Son of a
Bitch!   You kept leading him on, pretending that you
were falling for him as fast as he was falling for you, just
so you could pop his cherry!   I know that up until last
night David was  a virgin.  Guess he's not, any more.  Do
you keep score?  How many does this make for you?"

There's only one way to get his attention.  It's called
"white rage."  I learned it in my Master's studies, when
learning to work with emotionally disturbed, retarded,
and autistic kids, or teens in highly charged emotional
states..  It's one of the few ways to break through
whatever problem or intense emotion keeps them from
hearing a parent, Counselor or Teacher.  I lean forward
toward Charlie, tense my fists and arms, breathe in and
out like I'm getting ready to pound him into the dirt, give
him the fiercest glare/snarl/sneer or hateful look that I
can.  Then in the most intense, quiet voice I can manage
-- as though I am barely  holding myself in check -- I say,

"What makes YOU all wise, all seeing, Charlie?  Did
God step down and tell you to take over, to jump to
conclusions then judge and punish the wicked?  You, the
know-it-all who has it all wrong? I just TOTALLY resent
what you just accused us both of, and demand an
immediate apology, because we did NOT  have sex last
night!   Yes, Charlie came -- so did I -- but with our
clothes still on!   JUST from hugging which became
rubbing up against each other in an intense way!"

David, who looked damned scared when I puffed up like
a Komodo Dragon to use "white rage,"  quickly figures
out it's a tool, not a danger to Charlie or to him.   In a
damned good imitation of  "white rage," he adds,

"DAMN it, Charlie!  He's telling the TRUTH!  Yeah, we
got carried away in a sexy hug, but neither of us reached
for the other guy's cock, so there was NO  sucking or
fucking!  I am STILL a virgin!"

Then David seems to deflate, as he runs out of the
tremendous emotional strain of pretending to have that
much anger.  It's a lot of work!  Adrenaline lets us act that
way when we really are upset
or scared,  but  not when we're acting.   Now he sinks
back down onto the ground, looking up at Charlie with
the saddest eyes I've ever seen,

"Don't you remember all those times we've talked about
sex?  The times one or both of us were
SO turned on it looked like we'd do it?   But one or the
other of us always said 'Not yet.'  YET was the operative
word, Charlie!  We'd reached some kind of
understanding about age twelve, and put it in words two
years ago that we'd have sex with each other the first
time!  We pledged that our virginity to each other.  You
might not have meant it, but I did!  Yeah, I got all silly,
fluttery, happy and crazy with Bob this weekend, thinking
yesterday that I was in love with him enough that I wanted
him to pop my cherry -- but not really.  I held back, even
last night when we both got so hot we came, just by
rubbing our bodies together!  Hot?  Yeah!  Sex?  Maybe
-- but not real sex.  My Dad read the UCMJ to me last
year when I asked him about crimes in the Navy.  The
part on rape of a woman, or sodomy -- anal sex --
specifically state, "Penetration, however slight, is
enough to convict."  Penetration, Charlie!  We didn't
even have skin-to-skin contact!

Yeah, I was late.  Yeah, I came in happy and smelling
like cum.  We tried to wash it out with weak tea, but we
didn't have time to get my shorts dry.  You know these
canvas shorts take forever.  BUT, you lunk-head," and
here, David's eyes fill with tears and overflow -- he either
doesn't realize it or doesn't care -- "you're still my Main
Man!   The guy I've loved for eight years, the one I want
to start with, to sample, to find out together what sex is
all about -- even if we don't become a pair of Fruits of
the Loom!  I just realized from your intensity that you
thought I'd forgotten you or thrown you away, but I
haven't!  When you got so angry at Bob, so intense and
irate, I realized I'm in love  with YOU, not him!   PLEASE
believe me!!!  Don't throw me away!  Don't throw away
all that we've been through since second grade! Please,
Charlie, my Bud!"

Charlie and I both have tears running down our cheeks
at David's anguished plea, but the boys are focused only
on each other.  Charlie leans over, pulls David up, and
gives him a bone crunching hug as he says,

"Oh, Davie!  I could never throw you away, or walk away
from you!   I was just so scared that Bob  razzle-dazzled
you and then took advantage of you.  Yeah, he seems
like a helluva swell guy, but we've only known him two
days! How could you fall in love -- or think you had -- in
just two days?"

David sniffs, wipes his eyes, and answers, as he eases
out of Charlie's arms, but stands close,

"Charlie, it was just so ZINGY!  I felt just like Cinderella
must have.  You and I have had a lot of great times, but
Bob is a handsome man.   A grown man, interested in
me!  You know one of my fantasies has been making it
with an older guy.  He spent time with us all, but
'specially with me!  I felt like I was at the Palace Ball with
Prince Charming!  Then last night, I guess it struck
midnight and I didn't even notice.  I wore the glass
slipper home, 'cause the Prince knew where I lived,
here, and was going to come take me away and we'd
live happily ever after.   Now when you accused us of
having sex, and got so mad at him for taking my virginity -
- more mad at him than me, though you knew he didn't
rape me -- THAT'S when I realized I really love you and it
would never work for Bob and me!  It was my silly
schoolboy fantasy.  You have been my Prince all along,
always there for me  -- not just for two whirlwind days.
You never cussed me out, even now.   IF it had
happened, it would have been because I gave Bob my
virginity and you still didn't get mad at me!   Oh, Charlie,
please forgive me.  I'm sorry I let Bob make me feel all
tingly, while I ignored you for two days!  But now, seeing
how it tore you up, I just want you!  Can we start over?
Will you have me back?  Will you come back to me?  I
do love you, you know... or did you?"

Charlie is smiling through his tears.  A big smile of relief!

"Of course I want you back, ya big lug!  I was so afraid I'd
lost ya, and was gonna fight Bob or have him fired, to
get you back -- but you've come to your senses!  Now
the big question is can you forgive me for all those
terrible things I thought and said about you?   I was so
torn up, and the smell of your cum drove me over the
edge!  Oh, I knew it was yours!  How many loads have
we shared, either using our own hand or the other guy's?
  It broke my heart and the only way I could play ball that
first game was to get cold and angry inside.  But
afterward I was gonna GET him, or get even if I couldn't
have you, my Davie-boy!"

They were standing close. Now they get closer, leaning
toward each other.   If we weren't outside, where the
other boys and the coaches could see, I think they'd hug
and kiss to make up.  They sink to the ground and sit
close.  Spike and I are between them and anyone on the
courts.  Not much cover, but enough that they lean even
closer.

"You can -- no, you DO have me, Charlie-bud!  I didn't
really go away, just took a little side path, but
I'm BA-A-ACK!   Just like Freddie, I'm BA-A-A-AAACK
with you, Charlie my boy!  And no, I'm not gonna let you
go, either!   If we weren't out here, I'd kiss you!  We never
have, but I would!"

They are both elated that the little problem has been
settled, that their friendship is NOT over, and that they
have admitted their real love for each other.  So elated
and intensely tuned in only to each other that the other
three boys are there slapping them on the back before
they realize they're back.  They stand up, a little
embarrassed and brush off their butts.  Very nice butts, I
notice, again.

"Hey, looks like whatever it was between 'em is over!"
Pete hollers.

"Yeah!  HOORAY!", shout Enzio and Tony, almost in
unison.

"You guys ready for the Final Game, now?"  Pete asks
with a big grin.

"ARE we?  We're gonna blow them away!!"   David and
Charlie say with big grins, in synch.

"Hey, David, Charlie -- don't we have to go talk over our
game plan?"

"No, we'll use the same plan as last game, but Charlie
and I will pass off to you, Pete, or you can pass to either
of us who are open.  We'll depend on you two, Enzio and
Tony, to be our main defense, keeping our goal safe
from sneak attacks.  OK?"  David says clearly, but
without the giddy  joy he had in the semi-final game.  He
has his real happiness and enthusiasm back, instead.

"Sounds like a plan," Pete says, with an eyebrow
cocked.

He knows something has happened while they were in
the gym.  Something has brought their star players back
online.  He looks back and forth between them twice,
then smiles so big I'm afraid it'll meet in the back and the
top of his head will fall off!

"Yeah," agree both Tony and Enzio, apparently unaware
of any change.

"We just wanted to make sure you two weren't adding
any razzle dazzle at the last minute," Tony adds.

"No way -- last minute changes would foul us up more
than help us," Charlie replies.

Pete gives Charlie a double take then a secret smile.
Charlie's back on track, too!

"Yup," David adds.  "But let's go loosen up and warm up
for our Championship Game."

I look from David to Charlie, with a feeling of love and
affection for them both.  Better than just cute boys.
Handsome -- but so young!    They lead their team over
to the open court for last minute review and practice.
Just as they get onto the court, both David and Charlie
flash me a look at me that it's
OK for now; that they can handle it.

Can they?  As I look at them I wonder what they're really
like, way down inside, not just their boy-beauty.  Pete
has more perception than I'd seen, too.   I go deep
inside, think and muse:

{They seem so mature and resilient, but my behavior
overloaded them.  Now I drop a bombshell on them just
before their Championship Game -- but I had to find out
why Charlie was in a tailspin!!  Glad I did; it let him vent
his frustration, his anger at me, and his fear that he'd lost
David.   David sure picked up quickly on "white rage" to
confront Charlie, though!  I hope they both got it out of
their system, but there are probably vestiges that will
surface in the next weeks.  Hopefully they'll stay open
and honest, talk it out instead of stuffing their feelings.
Stuffed feelings always come out sideways, and always
hurt somebody -- often someone not even involved}.

The Championship Game starts off with my team a little
ragged, missing a few passes and several shots.  The
other team jumps off to a 7 -2 lead.   Coach calls time
out -- first time I'd ever seen that -- talks to them briefly,
then lets the game resume.   My boys settle down then
get into their groove.
Their total integration is back.  They switch from
competent play to good, then to the razzle-dazzle and
flash they showed in the semi-finals.  They start playing
better than ever.  Their most spectacular play is when
David drives down, passes to Pete who's entering the
lane, then Pete passes to Charlie who has come up
behind David.  The opposing team quickly shifted
defense from David to Pete, but they're caught flat
footed when Charlie gets the pass in mid air on his way
up, and drops it in for a clean basket.  You could tell he
wanted to dunk it, but remembered the coach's rule.

My team bursts into a cheer as David, Charlie and Pete
high five each other under the basket and
Enzio and Tony repeat it at mid court.   The other team
can't pull it together and struggle till it's over.
The final score is the Ferocious Five 36, their opponents
25.   My guys are gracious in victory and compliment the
other team as they pass single file past them, shaking
hands with each one; some high fives, but their best
looking player gets three butt pats from my team: one
each from David, Pete and Charlie.   The guys on the
other team give a sportsmanlike round of applause to
my guys before the teams file past.  Good!

The Head Coach calls all the boys to the center court,
sits them down, quiets them and then presents the
awards and trophies, ending with the Championship
Trophies.  Five individual, silvery plastic trophies to the
2nd place team's members and a Second Place plaque.
 They get nice applause from all the boys.  Then he gives
a small brass trophy to each of My Guys, followed by the
team's Championship Cup Trophy.  HUGE applause
from all!    I internalize, again:

{I'm SO proud of them, and feel better now about
confronting Charlie and David before the game.  It
seems to have cleared the air.  Damn!  I hope it stays
clear!   They're both smiling and look totally happy and
relaxed.   Maybe I lucked out and didn't catch the .45
caliber slug in the gut, this time.
Maybe they survived my "friendship."}

The Coach blows his whistle, quiets all the boys, then
says loudly,

"The Dining Room has a special lunch for all of us to
celebrate the end of the BEST Basketball Camp we've
ever had!"

Cheers by all the boys, happy to hear what they felt is
now official from the Head Coach, with all his Assistant
Coaches nodding agreement with big smiles.

"Yeah, you get a nice piece of baked fish, with lots of
veggies," the Coach continues, trying to keep a straight
face.  He can't, so says  "No, that's for us.  YOU guys will
just have to suffer with PIZZA!"

All the boys cheer and start jumping around, slapping
each other on the back.  Then I notice the
Head Coach is heading over to me.  He nods at me, and
says, when he gets close,

"Dr. Nelson, as the Main Fan of this Basketball Camp,
will you join my Staff and me for lunch?  Or, if you prefer,
you can join the boys on Your Team.  Yes, I know that
you have claimed them as yours and your
encouragement helped them play their best.  I'd like you
to join us -- or them."

I'm surprised, but quickly recover, with

"Thank you, Coach.  I really appreciate the invitation, and
I do prefer to join My Team at their table.
They played exceptionally well, though I didn't have
anything to do with it."

"Yes you did, Dr. Nelson.  You acted like a Dad or
favorite Uncle who was here whenever they played and
focused on what they were doing.  You helped them
focus more and learn more.   They played better in the
semi-final game than they ever had, then rose above that
in the Championship!
That's the reason for these camps.   Once boys realize
they CAN play this well, they will carry at least part of it
home and be awesome leaders of their school's teams
next season.   I was afraid they might lose their edge or
their momentum in the Final Game, but whatever pep
talk or insight you gave David and Charlie before it
started sure brought them back!  There has been
something special in the way you handled those boys --
some special closeness."

I almost choke on his choice of words, wondering how
much he's guessed, but I keep my face serene as I say,

"I'll just walk Spike home, give him a treat,  then come
join you all in the Dining Hall.  Are the boys and your staff
going directly there?"

"No, we told the boys to go wash up and change their
shirts.  Some may shower, so it will be about half an
hour.  See you there, then."

"Fine.  See you then," I reply, then "Come on, Spike, let's
go home.  Want a chew bone?"

That gets him all bright eyed and eager.  He pulls me
downhill to our home in less than two minutes.

<>  <>  <>  <>  <>  <>  <>  <>  <>  <>  <>  <>  <>  <>  <>
<>  <>  <>  <>  <>  <>  <>

What ARE David and Charlie feeling?  What are they
thinking?  Is David pissed off that Bob decided Charlie
should be his First?  Does Charlie think it's even better
than it was, with David in love with him after he said it?
He didn't look very convinced when Bob almost forced
them both to reveal all of that.. Will Bob keep acting like
he can decide their feelings and their future?  Will David
and Charlie have enough of Bob's meddling and get rid
of him?  If so, how?   Send me feedback and
suggestions, please:  NailsB69@hotmail.com -- and
thanks for reading it ! ~..~ !