Lizzy Legend

Review by Booklist Review

Eighth-grader Lizzy Trudeaux falls asleep beneath a poster of LeBron James every night, and she never dreamed in a million years that she'd ever be able to actually play against him. But when a strange phone call prompts her to make a wish, she's suddenly trading the blacktop near her home for the bright lights of a real basketball arena. She can't miss a single shot not even if she tries. Debut author Smith firmly roots this story of wish fulfillment in the contemporary basketball world, with all of the fast-paced excitement and chance for individual glory. Though tales of fame and fortune all too often pit BFFs against each other, Lizzy's best bud Toby is instead along for the ride, nearly stealing every scene he's in with his comic banter. Documentary-style cutaways to interviews with key players, along with short chapters and a balance of well-paced action and heart, give this sports story wide appeal. Hand to the kids who can't stop arguing over Steph versus LeBron.--Jennifer Barnes Copyright 2018 Booklist

From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.

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Review by School Library Journal Review

Gr 4-6-Lizzy's worked harder than anyone else at being the best basketball player for most of her 13 years, spending hours each day practicing on the rundown court outside her apartment. All the work pays off when Lizzy makes it onto her school's eighth-grade boys basketball team and quickly proves herself to be the MVP. Meanwhile, she is also dealing with bill collectors calling constantly to get a hold of her father. At first, upon receiving a strange call from a robot, Lizzy thinks it's someone else looking for her dad, but when the robot asks her what her wish is, she blurts the first thing she can think of: to never miss another basketball shot. When the fantastical wish actually comes true, her life is shot into a completely new orbit, she's winning games, and she ultimately gets recruited for an NBA team! The story is complete fantasy and even a bit goofball, but Lizzy is a likable character. She continually works hard and stays focused on her goals, even when things get difficult. VERDICT An entertaining story with a positive message about girls in sports.-Terry Ann Lawler, Burton Barr -Library, Phoenix © Copyright 2019. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

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Review by Kirkus Book Review

Lizzy Trudeaux is the best basketball player in middle school.Unfortunately, the boys' coach denies her the chance to play with the boys because coed teams are against the rules. Lizzy and her father live under a mountain of debt and unpaid bills, but she practices on the trash-strewn court near their home every chance she gets. Collections agents call Lizzy daily (they don't care that she's only 13), but one odd robocall changes her life: "You have been pre-selected for one free wish." Rather than hang up, Lizzy blurts out her secret fantasy: never to miss another basketball shot forever. After that, every shot is a "pure swish"made without touching the neteven from 30 feet with her back turned. Her best friend, Toby, an enterprising "Buddha-shaped black boy," fast-talks their way into the Mack Center, home of the Philadelphia Bells, where Lizzy shows off her new skills for the coach. Before she knows it, she signs a 10-day contract (she is only 13) and becomes Lizzy Legend. The narrative, broken into four "Quarters," takes place in the not-too-distant past, with Lizzy narrating engagingly from the present. It's ludicrousand a whole lot of fun, with memorable secondary characters filling out the cast. The book subscribes to the white default; aside from Toby, the only people of color seem to be a Sudanese pro ball player and Spike Lee, who has a cameo.Not quite a slam dunk but an enjoyable sports fantasy nonetheless. (Fiction. 8-13) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

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Lizzy Legend They said it'd never happen, that I was crazy to even dream it. But there I was under the bright lights at the Mack Center, surrounded by twenty thousand screaming fans, millions more watching at home. And hunched beside me, so close I could see the vein flickering in his temple, the hole where his diamond earring would go, the individual sweat droplets forming on his shiny forehead: the most famous athlete in the world, the guy on my freaking cereal box--Sidney Rayne. "You okay?" I asked him. "How you holdin' up?" He chomped his gum, smirking. "I'm worried about you, man. You look nervous. You always this sweaty?" He peeked up at the scoreboard. They were up one. 5.7 seconds left. "I let you have that last one," I said. "Oh yeah?" "More fun when the pressure's on." I diagrammed the final play on my palm, like we did at the playground. "So here's me," I said. "Right here. That's you. What's gonna happen is I'm gonna catch the ball, right over here, I'm gonna start--" "Surprise me," he said. "You sure?" He winked. "More fun that way." It was actually hard to hear him. The crowd was chanting my name. LIZ-ZY LE-GEND (clap clap clap-clap-clap). LIZ-ZY LE-GEND (clap clap clap-clap-clap). "Listen," I said, leaning closer now, shoulder to shoulder, "in case I don't get another chance, I just wanna say--" "Save it, rook." "Nah, man, please, just let me say this." I was surprised to find myself getting choked up. "I had your poster on my wall growing up--you know, the one with your legs pulled way up high, looks like you're flying? I used to look up every night before bed and I'd think: Man, Rayne's a punk. If I could just get one shot at him . . ." He laughed. "Took me a while," I said, reknotting my braid, "longer than I expected. But here I am, and here you are. And I just wanna say--" "Don't say nothin', rook. Just show me what you got." He was right. There was nothin' left to say. What happened next, we both knew, would outlive us both. It was a defining moment. The kind every baller lives for. I caught the ball just outside the arc. I started right, got him leaning . . . then "drew the curtain." I pulled the ball hard across my body, the famous Trudeaux crossover. Later, Sid. Three. I pulled up at the foul line. Two. I lifted the rock. One. A picture-perfect release, wrist tipped down like the head of a swan. The ball hit the front of the rim, skipped forward, kissed the backboard, hit the front of the rim again, toilet-bowled around twice, sank 99 percent of the way in, then, somehow, at the last instant . . . spun out. I stood there, palming my knees, stunned. Excerpted from Lizzy Legend by Matthew Ross Smith All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

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