Perfect for sports-loving kids and fans of books by Mike Lupica, book two in the Triple Threat series by New York Times bestselling author John Feinstein delivers a hard-hitting account of prejudice and perseverance on the basketball court.   It’s basketball season. And for once, triple threat Alex Myers is not the one in the spotlight. There’s a new new guy in town, Max Bellotti—and he promises to turn the Lions’ losing streak around and lead the team to a conference title.   Alex is psyched, but some of the older guys on the team resent being benched in favor of an upstart freshman. And when Max comes out as gay, not everyone takes the news in stride. Snide comments and cold shoulders escalate into heated protests and an out-and-out war with the school board. While controversy swirls around them, the Lions have to decide: Will personal issues sink their season, or can they find a way to stand together as a team?   John Feinstein has been praised as “the best writer of sports books in America today” ( The Boston Globe ). This second installment in his Triple Threat series delivers action and intensity, and a look beyond the headlines of a hot-button topic in sports today. “Suspenseful and well-dramatized sports action scenes. . . . Solidly drawn, both on and off the court.” — Kirkus Reviews   “The realistic social situations are interspersed with sports strategy, practices, and plenty of action. Fans will cheer for more of Alex’s story as he inches closer to spring and the dugout.” — Booklist "Suspenseful and well-dramatized sports action scenes...Solidly drawn, both on and off the court." - Kirkus Reviews “The realistic social situations are interspersed with sports strategy, practices, and plenty of action. Fans will cheer for more of Alex’s story as he inches closer to spring and the dugout.” — Booklist   John Feinstein is the author of many bestselling books, including A Season on the Brink and A Good Walk Spoiled. His books for young readers offer a winning combination of sports, action, and intrigue, with Last Shot receiving the Edgar Allan Poe Award for best young adult mystery of the year. He lives in Potomac, Maryland, and on Shelter Island, New York, with his family. Follow him on twitter @JFeinsteinBooks. 1 The last thing Alex wanted to do the night after losing the state championship was go to the holiday dance. But he had asked Christine Whitford to go with him weeks ago, and it had taken him weeks before that to work up the nerve to ask her. You don’t blow off your first date with the prettiest girl in school because you’re sulking. “It’ll be good for you,” his mom insisted when he came downstairs, feeling goofy in the blue blazer, white shirt, red tie, and khaki pants she had laid out for him. “You look very handsome.” If being with Christine didn’t take his mind off the game, nothing would. She had texted him that afternoon to make sure he still wanted to go. Of course! he’d texted back, even though moping had become his favorite sport at that point. Christine was waiting for him in the lobby just outside the gym, where the dance was being held. They had agreed to meet at school--the better, Alex thought, to avoid awkward parental hovering. Life would be much simpler in two years when he had a driver’s license. She looked spectacular in a black dress and low black heels. She smiled when he walked in--the smile he’d seen the first day of school in French class. Entire rooms, entire towns, lit up when Christine Whitford smiled. “You clean up very nicely,” she said. “I’m impressed.” “You mean surprised,” he answered. “That too,” she said, taking his arm. He realized as they walked in that he had forgotten to compliment her. “Um, you look really good too,” he said. “I mean, better than good . . . Just, um, wow.” Oh God, if only this were as easy as football. She laughed. “Thanks, Alex--I get it.” He took a deep breath. He appreciated the fact that she was trying to make it easy for him--and that she hadn’t brought up the game. Since she worked for the school newspaper, the Weekly Roar, she had been in Pittsburgh the night before too. He was about to ask her how the trip home had gone when, as the police would say, the trouble began. “Hey, Myers, nice try. Too bad,” came one voice. Then another: “Don’t feel bad, Alex; there’s always next year!” And: “What happened on the last play? Sooo close.” They were surrounded before Alex could even ask Christine if she wanted something to drink. Earlier in the year, when he was the new kid in school and surgically attached to the bench as the third-string quarterback, he would have adored the attention. Now he wanted to run and hide. He looked up and thought he saw the cavalry coming in the form of Matt Gordon--who had been the starting quarterback and team captain until he had admitted to taking steroids just prior to the championship game. He’d been a good friend to Alex, though. A mentor and a supporter