Traveller by L.W. Samuelson (reading comprehension books .txt) 📖

door open. When he saw Willy, he said “It’s the man. How are you?”
“I be fine. Y’all didn’t have to turn the music off on my account,” Willy replied.
“I didn’t have the music on. That was me.”
“Yeah right and I’m Elvin Hayes.”
“No really. Come in and I’ll show you.” Traveller brought Willy into the living room. He sat down and sang, “Yesterday when I was young so many different songs were waiting to be sung . . .”
When he finished, Willy whistled, “Man that sound just like him.”
“Thank you,” Traveller said. “So what’s going on with you?”
“I’m all nervous, big game tomorrow,” Willy answered.
“I can help you with that. First of all, take five deep breaths and let the air out slowly. Imagine that the evil demon of nervousness leaves with each breath,” Traveller instructed.
Willy did as suggested and then Traveller had him lay on the couch. “Close your eyes,” Traveller said. “Now imagine yourself making a lay up. Hear the crowd roar,” the alien mimicked the noise with his amplifier and guitar.
“Oh yeah, now you be talkin’,” Willy said.
Traveller took Willy through a progression of imagined scores, steals, rebounds and assists accompanied by crowd noises and adulation. When he finished, Traveller sang in a blues voice and rhythm, “Yeah you’re going to be good. Make the crowd go wild. ‘Cause everyone knows, you’re a wild child.”
“Man, I be a legend in my own mind,” Willy joked.
“My only friend from home taught me that the key to success is to stay calm, confident, and under control. Nothing ever seemed to bother him too much. I never could beat him with a sensory saber. He often told me that the only thing that can disrupt your physical abilities is your mind. Meditate on that before the game,” Traveller advised.

From the opening tip of the UCLA game, Willy played well. He played a smart game, passing off to teammates from the double team, moving constantly when he didn’t have the ball, blocking out and being in position for the rebound. His jump shot from the perimeter and hook shot on the outside enabled him to go 8 of 11 in the first half. With his foul shots, he had scored a total of twenty points. The score when the buzzer sounded ending the second quarter was ISU 42, UCLA 40.
When play resumed, the two teams seesawed back and forth in a narrow scoring range. Willy concentrated on playing team ball garnering rebounds, playing defense, and making assists even though UCLA kept a body on him. He quit looking to score until the final two minutes of the game. UCLA led by two points, 60 to 58.
ISU’s point guard brought the ball up, the number two guard screened for Willy allowing him to come open at the top of the key and shoot a jump shot that was all net, game tied. When UCLA threw the ball in, Willy moved up to trap the guard. When the UCLA player jumped up to throw the ball, Willy intercepted it, drove to the basket and scored as two UCLA players crashed into him for a foul. The crowd exploded. ISU was leading the top seed in the tournament even though Willy missed the foul shot.
On the next play UCLA’s guard threw the ball into the center who pivoted and threw it down court to a forward. The forward threw it back to a guard as he crossed half court. ISU fell back into a zone defense fronting UCLA’s big men. After several seconds, the ball handler tried to penetrate before pulling up for a long range jump shot. It rimmed off. Willy rebounded it, dribbled to half court, and then threw it to a guard. The team made several passes playing keep away and milking the clock. With ten seconds left, Willy caught the ball. A UCLA forward crashed into him slamming him to the floor. A sickening thunk could be heard as his head hit the hardwood. A loud moan escaped from the crowd. The referees immediately called an injury time-out.
Willy lay prostrate with his arms and legs spread out. The trainer and a medical doctor broke through his teammates moving them back so that they could examine the injured player. The doctor broke open a vial of smelling salts. When he placed it under Willy’s nose, Willy shook his head and stirred. He sat for a few minutes before two of his teammates helped him to his feet.
“Are you okay? Can you shoot the foul shots?” his coach asked.
“Man, I’ve already made them,” Willy said.
The crowd roared as Willy weaved his way to the foul line. “How many fingers?” the referee asked holding up three.
“Naw man, I shoot with both hands,” Willy said taking the ball. He stood looking at the basket before turning and winking at Traveller sitting in the front row. He swished his first shot and then the second.
UCLA quickly took the ball out with ten seconds remaining. ISU slowed the ball’s advance down enough to take a few seconds off the clock. Careful not to foul, the ISU players allowed the UCLA guard to get the ball inside to the center. He dunked it just before the buzzer sounded. With a two point lead, ISU won! The stands emptied filling the court with pandemonium yet again.

The morning after the game, Willy could barely move. He had been banged into, elbowed, and fouled so many times that his muscles felt like walking a tight rope with pain centers on either side. He lay in bed with his eyes open until Jesse knocked on his door.
“Who is it?” Willy asked.
“It’s Jesse, Bro’. You okay?”
“Hell no. Get the dorm monitor to let you in so you can help me up,” Willy said. He heard Jesse leave for a minute and then come back. The knob clicked, the door opened, and Jesse came in. He pulled his friend out of bed then helped him dress.
When Willy was ready, Jesse helped him walk to the training center. Once there, Jesse supported him as he climbed into the whirlpool to loosen his muscles and soak.
Willy looked at the clock. Only six hours until the next game. Dang, I hope I can move by that time.

Willy had loosened up by game time. But, like the rest of his teammates, the game with UCLA had taken its toll. They had had to play so hard that they were leg weary. Willy’s arms felt like lead weights.
Their next opponent, the second seeded Arizona, opened the game with a full court press. They trapped ISU’s point guard on the first play of the game. When he tried to pass the ball, it was stolen then driven to the basket for a lay up.
The score was 20-6 before the Bengals loosened up enough to play with Arizona, but by then the rout was on. The score went to 32-12 before Willy was able to score. The first two jump shots he had taken around the top of the key were both air balls. On his third shot he gave a head fake then drove to the basket for a lay up. Arizona quickly threw the ball back in for a fast break on a made shot. They scored before the Bengals had a chance to get back on defense. By halftime the score was 40-22.
The Bengals came out energized in the second half. They controlled the tip with the center getting the ball underneath for two points. ISU’s point guard stole the inbound pass then threw it to Willy going hard to the basket for two more points. Arizona quickly called a timeout.
The Wildcats screened for their point guard on the inbounds play. He caught the ball and threw it down court to their center waiting under the basket. There was a resounding thung when he jammed it through the hoop. Arizona resumed its full court pressure which quickly deflated the come back. ISU missed its next shot. When an Arizona forward got the ball off a long rebound, he threw it to the Wildcat point guard for a layup. The score moved to 44-26. By the end of the third quarter the score stood at 54- 32.
Willy’s teammates rallied around their coach during the break. “You’ve got to keep fighting. There’s still time to dig this one out,” he said.
“Yeah, let’s do this,” said Willy.
ISU got the ball out of bounds. Willy ran the baseline and made a cut off a screen to pop open in the key. He made a graceful hook shot that swished.
Arizona kept up its relentless pressure. They ran a fast break off of Willy’s basket scoring yet again. Even Willy was behind the play trotting up as the ball bounced out of bounds. The Bengal coach called a timeout. “New strategy,” he said. “Throw the ball inside to Willy, when the double team comes, he’ll throw the ball to whoever’s open. Set screens for one another and score, but you’ve got to get back on defense!”
The coach’s plan worked the first time with the off forward making a jump shot, but the Bengals weren’t able to get back to defend. When Arizona made yet another fast break point, the score stood at 58-36. The Bengals missed their next shot with Arizona getting the rebound. The point guard held his hand up signaling for the Wildcats to slow the game down.
The Bengals were spent. They faithfully chased the ball, but were never able to cut into the lead. At the two minute mark, the Arizona coach put in the reserves. The final buzzer sounded with Arizona winning 64-40. Willy came off the court with his head down, so disappointed that he didn’t even join his teammates as they shook hands with the Wildcats.
It wasn’t until he felt familiar arms around his shoulders that he looked up. “There is no shame in trying your hardest,” Traveller said. “ISU would never have made it this far without you.” The two men hugged and patted each other. Willy felt better. He ran to the back of the hand-shaking line with his head up.
When the line ended, someone grabbed Willy’s arm from behind. It was Arizona’s head coach, Fred Snowden. He shook Willy’s hand and said, “You’ve got a future ahead of you son. Don’t let anything keep you from it.”

Chapter 36 - A Celebration

Two weeks later, a ceremony was scheduled for the Idaho State Bengals to receive the Big Sky Championship trophy. The Benwarian Blues Band had auditioned to play the opening set. They were chosen on the strength of Traveller’s imitations and ability to play lead guitar. His backup players had improved substantially, but there were quite a few songs where their accompaniment didn’t measure up despite the hours of practice. On those songs, Traveller displayed his virtuoso talents.
No one said anything to Willy. The band wanted to surprise him. The concert was scheduled on the Friday before spring break. A stage and dance floor had been set up in the Minidome.
On the day before, the band scheduled an eight hour practice. Jesse, Tim, and even Lori gave up studying for tests on the following day to make sure they were ready to play.
Tim arrived late for their garage practice. The band stopped tuning up when he said, “Hey everybody. I have someone I want you to meet. This is Derek. I invited him to play with us. He is a fine fiddle player.”
“Hey Derek,” Jesse said. “Don’t worry he’s not going to play at our first concert. He just wants to sit in to see if