The Super Hoopers- The Prophecy of the scorpion

For my brother Ignacio,
who leaps over oceans to attain his goals
and runs towards them perhaps to remind me
THE SUPER HOOPERS VOL. 3
The Prophecy of the Scorpion
First edition: February 2025
that nothing is more inspiring
than achieving the impossible.
A. C.
© Text: Alberto Casamayor Otero, 2025
© Illustrations: Palma&Kako, 2025
Translation from Spanish: Carolyn Louise Black, 2025
© Editorial el Pirata, 2025
Sabadell (Barcelona)
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ISBN: 978-84-19898-38-8
Legal deposit: B 21559-2024
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THE PROPHECY
OF THE SCORPION
Written by
Alberto Casamayor
Illustrated by
Palma&Kako

I’M JOEL!
I’M NINE,
AND IF THERE’S ONE
THING I CAN’T STAND,
IT’S STRESSFUL
SITUATIONS.

There’s nothing that freaks me out more than a
basketball game where the teams are neck and
neck in the final minutes.
What could be worse than watching from the
bench while a match is decided in the last few
seconds? Well… having to play in it, for instance.
That’s why it really gets to me to see that my
teammates are so bushed, they seem to have
thrown in the towel.
And me… I want to win!
1
When the last timeout is up, the crowd roars our
name, “SU-PER HOO-PERS! SU-PER HOO-PERS!”
“Anyone that wants to win,” I say to my teammates,
“should come onto the court with me. By all the
clams!”
Bermúdez, who’s got a cramp and is really tired,
tries to cheer me up from the bench.
“And by all the garlic, GUYS! If we lose, you know
I’ll pay the PRICE. Don’t sweat it too much, BRO, but
if you lose the ball, we’ll have no place to GO.”
5

Bermúdez always speaks in rhyme. He’s my best
pal and the team point guard. He can juggle almost
anything, but he has no idea how to cheer a guy up.
I glance at the scoreboard above our heads,
though I know exactly how we’re doing: ’Bronze
Samurais 63 – Super Hoopers 62’.
And in twelve seconds, it will all be over.
You’re probably wondering which tournament
we’re playing in and why it’s so important. I’ll run
through it super quickly.
So, the most loaded family in town, the Yari
Sugis, own a big canned clam business, and after
fifty years, the patriarch is going to step down and
turn the company over to his grandson. To celebrate,
they’ve organized a single-game tournament. And
do you know who they’ve invited?
Bingo! The Super Hoopers.
It’s the biggest deal ever for us! But what we
didn’t know was that if we lost, a bunch of poor
families would pay a really high price.
6

“Come on, Joel” Patrick, our center, encourages
me. “Go get ’em!”
“Most of all, don’t miss,” says Nick, the team
bighead, blowing his bangs. “Pass to me, and
everything will be cool.”
Laura, our tall and elegant power forward, is on
the baseline and getting ready to pass to me when
the ref blows the whistle. I think she realizes I’m
terrified because she gives me a wink and a smile.
When I get up close to her, she says:
I think you’re
the scorpion in
the prophecy.

She takes me by surprise. How can I be the scorpion?
The ref blows the whistle, and I suddenly have
the ball in my hands. The crowd, which is bursting
out of the stands, yells as if a superhero were
about to save the world.
“Love-hearts, get it together, time’s running
out!” screams Sandy, who calls me Love-hearts
because of some underwear that… Well, that’s
another story!

The player defending me is pretty short but real
fast. He jumps on top of me, and without thinking,
I switch the ball from one hand to the other by
dribbling it through my legs while doing a reverse.
I leave him standing.
The crowd goes wild. Some chant my name and
stand up, waving their arms around.
Over
here!

Three seconds to go. I spot an opening to the
hoop between my teammates and our opponents.
Iʼm the worst shooter in the team by a mile.
Two seconds! Time has run out.
By all the supervillains, it’s down to me!
I put one foot on the paint, take a step toward the
hoop, then another, and jump. The ball slips out of
my hands, and when it starts to fly...
THWACK!
Peeep!

One of our opponents’ hands goes over the ball
and hits me full on the forehead. The ref’s whistle
is deafening.
“Number 12, personal foul!” yells the ref,
pointing to the free throw line.
I position my feet on the free throw line. My two
shots have to go in; we can’t possibly survive extra
time.
Nick moves up behind me. No doubt he’s coming to
tell me that, if I’d passed to him, he’d have scored,
and we would’ve won. He’s so cocky…
“Joel, remember when I asked you to pass to me
before?” he says in my ear, looking at the cameras
that are broadcasting the game to the entire
world. “Well, you don’t know how happy I am that
you didn’t…”
“Gee, you sure are a help…” I say over my shoulder.
11

The ref puts the ball into my hands and points
upward. For a moment, the crowd seems to go
quiet, and all I can hear is my heart beating like
an elephant banging a drum.
“Remember, we’re a team!” yells our mysterious
player Mallory from the bench. “Remember, you’re
the scorpion.”
Again… am I really the scorpion?
My mind goes back in time to when it all began…
BOING!

A few days before I ended up standing on the free
throw line with my knees shaking like maracas,
the Super Hoopers were coming back from the
coast after winning the Champions of Champions
tournament by beating the Golden Kids.
We were told that the game had actually been a
test to see if we were good enough to play against
the best children’s basketball team in the world:
the Bronze Samurais.
2
So, after class on our first day back, we met outside
the door of the locker room by the basketball court
that the school loans us. It’s where we always wait
for the coach so that we can go in and change.
In case you still don’t know us, the Super Hoopers
are:
13