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Summary
Summary
From the critically acclaimed author of Amina's Voice comes the third book in an exciting middle grade series about a scrawny fourth-grader with big dreams of basketball stardom.
Zayd has a plan. He's ready to take the reins as team captain of the Gold Team.
But when an injury leaves him on the sidelines, his plans get derailed. Can Zayd learn what it means to be a leader if he's not the one calling the shots?
Author Notes
Hena Khan is a Pakistani American writer. She is the author of the middle grade novels Amina's Voice , Amina's Song , More to the Story , Drawing Deena , and the Zara's Rules series and picture books Golden Domes and Silver Lanterns , Under My Hijab , and It's Ramadan, Curious George , among others. Hena lives in her hometown of Rockville, Maryland, with her family. You can learn more about Hena and her books by visiting her website at HenaKhan.com or connecting with her @HenaKhanBooks.
Reviews (3)
Horn Book Review
In these chapter books, pint-sized fourth grader Zayd Saleem chases his dream of playing basketball: making the team (Forward), winning a game (Point), and coping after an injury (Back). In upbeat, humorous, and engaging first-person narration, Zayd confronts challenges on the court and with his friends and Pakistani American family. Well-developed secondary characters, rich cultural content, and occasional black-and-white drawings round out the series. [Review covers these Zayd Saleem, Chasing the Dream titles: Bounce Back, On Point, and Power Forward.] (c) Copyright 2019. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Kirkus Review
Zayd's basketball obsession shares the spotlight with family developments in this third book in the Zayd Saleem, Chasing the Dream series. Pakistani-American Zayd is now starting point guard on the gold team he worked hard to become a part of. They're in a good position to make the championship, but Zayd faces a setback when his ankle is injured during basketball practice and he ends up on crutches. He is on the bench for several weeks, and, aside from missing playing, he worries that he won't make it back in time to help them win. With some encouragement from Baba and Coach, Zayd learns how to conquer his self-pity and jealousy and to lead from the bench. Meanwhile, the wedding festivities for his uncle, Jamal Mamoo, are in full swing, from the pre-mehndi (where Zayd also takes on leadership and finds that choreographing a dance is akin to coaching a basketball team) to the mehndi to the wedding itself. Zayd is scared when his grandfather suffers from acute health issues, but he and his sister, Zara, try to help Nana Abu stay active, per doctor's orders. Readers will enjoy watching Zayd grow in his game, his maturity, and his changing family life even if this volume is a bit heavy on the latter. A solid read about being your best self on and off the court, with an appealing Muslim protagonist. (Fiction. 7-11) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Booklist Review
In his third adventure (after On Point, 2018), Zayd is just weeks from his basketball team making it to playoffs and his uncle Jamal's wedding, when he faces a serious setback: he injures his ankle during practice. At first he's upset what's the point of going to practice if he can't be out on the court playing? But he slowly begins to learn that there are different ways to be a team player, such as when he helps his sister by simplifying the choreography for a Punjabi dance number to some of Jamal's favorite songs. When he finally gets back on the court, his performance is reserved because he is worried about further damage to his ankle, and he ends up on the sidelines again. But even that ends well: Zayd takes to heart a message from his grandpa to focus on what he can do and not on what he cannot do. Zayd, a welcome character for young readers, learns that one can be a team player even when facing personal challenges.--Lindsey Tomsu Copyright 2018 Booklist
Excerpts
Excerpts
Bounce Back 1 My new basketball hoop is going to be amazing. I waited forever to finally replace the rusted, bent rim I've been playing on for the past four years. This one has a clear shatterproof backboard like the ones in the NBA. Plus, there's an adjustable height lever you can use with one hand. I chipped in for half of it using the money I had saved up from my birthday and Eid. My parents paid for the rest. But after three hours and thirty-seven minutes the hoop is still in pieces all over the driveway. My dad is drenched in sweat. My uncle, Jamal Mamoo, is cursing under his breath and probably wishing he hadn't come over today. And I think my mother is pretending to understand Chinese, since that's the only language in the instruction booklet. She keeps rotating the pages to look at the drawings from different angles. "I think it's the other end that's supposed to go in this thingy," Mama says, pointing at the booklet. "No. It. Doesn't. Fit. That. Way." Baba has a washer pressed between his lips and speaks through it in a low growl. "It's too hot outside," Naano declares from the doorway of the garage. My grandmother doesn't believe humans should be in the sun for more than five minutes. "How many hours are you going to do this? Stop now. Come have chai." I look around in alarm, but no one seems ready to quit yet. My family is the kind that loves to watch do-it-yourself shows together on TV. These are the programs about regular people who tear out their kitchen cabinets or showers and install shiny new ones. We comment on their choices and how all the people seem just like us. Until they start cutting tiles or using power tools. Then we decide they must secretly be professionals. The do-it-yourselfers on TV are nothing like the Saleem family. We don't usually fix or build anything ourselves. My parents don't own a toolbox or a single leather tool belt. There's only a sagging shelf in the corner of the garage that holds a hammer, a box of nails, random hooks, and a screwdriver or two. But it cost an extra seventy-nine dollars to get the hoop assembled. So here we are, putting on a bad reality show for our neighbors. I can't prove it, but it sure feels like they are walking their dogs a lot more than usual today and smiling at us extra hard. "You guys are doing it wrong." My older sister, Zara, saunters outside holding a glass of lemonade and wearing a know-it-all look on her face. "Zara!" Mama snaps her head up from the drawings. "We don't need your commentary right now." "Okay. I thought you'd want to know I watched a video with instructions. The guy was NOT doing that." "Wait." Baba turns around and glares at Mama. "There's a video?" "There's no video listed on here," Mama says, flipping over the booklet. "Unless the link is written in Chinese?" "What video?" I ask Zara. "The one on YouTube. There's a guy who goes through all the steps one at a time for this exact model basketball hoop. You should watch it." "YOU THINK?" Baba explodes. The lady from two doors down and her tiny yappy dog both jump up, startled as he shouts. I can't help but grin. Jamal Mamoo catches my eye, drops the pieces of the base he was fumbling to put together, and lets out his wacky laugh. Soon Mama joins in too. Before we know it, we're all howling with laughter. Even Baba. Nana Abu, my grandfather, comes shuffling outside because of all the commotion. "Hold on a second." Mama puts up a hand, gasping for air. "What's so funny?" Her question just makes us all laugh harder. I drop to the grass and roll around until my stomach hurts, but in a good way. Two hours and twenty-three more minutes later, I finally get to try out my Spalding hoop. It's as nice as I thought it would be. Maybe nicer. Best of all, we did it ourselves. Mostly. The dog lady felt sorry for us and brought over her husband and his set of tools to help us. Zara brought out her tablet and kept rewinding the parts of the video until we figured it all out. Nana Abu stepped in for Jamal Mamoo when he left to meet his fiancée, Nadia Auntie, for a wedding-cake tasting. (I volunteered for the tasting job, but my uncle said no way.) I take a couple of shots and watch them go off the shiny new backboard into the perfectly straight rim. My game is already so much better than it was last year. I'm starting point guard on the team I've worked so hard to be a part of. I'm hoping Coach Wheeler will pick me to be our new team captain now that my best friend Adam left. We've turned our season around and have a chance to make the playoffs. Plus now I can practice at home and not worry about adjusting my shot to make it go in. "We did it," Baba says. He puts his arm around Mama, and they gaze at the hoop proudly. They're going to have a lot more to be proud of soon. I can only imagine incredible things ahead of me. My future is looking as good as my new hoop. Excerpted from Bounce Back by Hena Khan 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.
