El crossover (Crossover Spanish Edition)

by Kwame Alexander, Juan Felipe Herrera

Available 09/24/2019

¡Ahora disponible en español! Ganador del la Medalla Newbery y el Premio Coretta Scott King, y un NYT bestseller. El básketbol y el dolor comparten la cancha en esta “slam-dunk” novela en verso. 


Now in Spanish! Winner of the Newbery Medal and Coretta Scott King Award, and a NYT bestseller. Basketball and heartache share the court in this slam-dunk novel in verse. 

  • Format: Paperback
  • ISBN-13/ EAN: 9780358064732
  • ISBN-10: 0358064732
  • Pages: 256
  • Publication Date: 09/24/2019
  • Carton Quantity: 24

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About the Book
About the Authors
  • About the Book
    Ganador de la Medalla Newbery · Ganador del Premio Coretta Scott King · New York Times bestseller · 2015 YALSA 2015 Top Ten Best Fiction for Young Adults· 2015 YALSA Quick Picks for Reluctant Young Adult Readers ·Publishers Weekly Best Book · School Library Journal Best Book· Kirkus Best Book

    “Una hermosa novela medida entre la vida y sus líneas.”New York Times Book Review 


    Un rayo relámpagueando en mis kicks … 

    La cancha está QUEMANDO. 

    Mi sudorLLOVIZNANDO. 

    Ya basta de estar temblando. 

    Porque esta noche la voyentregando.  


    El fenómeno del básquetbol, Josh Bell, y su hermano gemelo, Jordan, son los reyes de la cancha, con esos crossovers inesperados que hacen llorar a los jugadores más duros. Pero cuando Jordan conoce a la nueva chica del colegio, lazos entre los gemelos se empiezan a desanudar. El baloncesto y la hermandad se entrelazan para mostrarles a Josh y Jordan que la vida no viene con un manual de jugadas y que, a veces, el asunto no es ganar. 



    Now in Spanish! Winner of the Newbery Medal and CSK Award, and a NYT bestseller. Basketball and heartache share the court in this slam-dunk novel in verse.  


    A bolt of lightning on my kicks . . . 

    The court is SIZZLING.  

    My sweat is DRIZZLING. 

    Stop all that quivering. 

    Cuz tonight I’m delivering. 


    Basketball phenom Josh Bell and his twin brother, Jordan, are kings on the court, with crossovers that make even the toughest ballers cry. But when Jordan meets the new girl in school, the twins’ bond unravels. Basketball and brotherhood intertwine to show Josh and Jordan that life doesn’t come with a playbook and, sometimes, it’s not about winning. 




  • About the Author
  • Excerpts
    At the top of the key, I’m
    POPping and ROCKING
    Why you BUMPING?
       Why you LOCKING?
    Man, take this THUMPING.
    Be careful though,
    ’cause now I’m CRUNKing
    and my dipping will leave you
    G   on the floor, while I
    SWOOP in
    to the finish with a fierce finger roll . . .
    Straight in the hole:

    Josh Bell
    is my name.
    But Filthy McNasty is my claim to fame.
    Folks call me that
    ’cause my game’s acclaimed,
    so downright dirty, it’ll put you to shame. My hair is long, my height’s tall.
    See, I’m the next Kevin Durant,
    LeBron, and Chris Paul.

    Remember the greats,
    my dad likes to gloat:
    I balled with Magic and the Goat.
    But tricks are for kids, I reply.
    Don’t need your pets
    my game’s so

    Mom says,
    Your dad’s old school,
    like an ol’ Chevette.
    You’re fresh and new,
    like a red Corvette.
    Your game so sweet, it’s a crêpes suzette.
    Each time you play

    If anyone else called me
    fresh and sweet,
    I’d burn mad as a flame.
    But I know she’s only talking about my game.
    See, when I play ball,
    I’m on fire. When I shoot, I inspire.
    The hoop’s for sale, and I’m the buyer.

    How I Got My Nickname
    I’m not that big on jazz music, but Dad is.
    One day we were listening to a CD
    of a musician named Horace Silver, and Dad says,

    Josh, this cat is the real deal.
    Listen to that piano, fast and free,
    Just like you and JB on the court.

    It’s okay, I guess, Dad.
    Boy, you better recognize

    greatness when you hear it.
    Horace Silver is one of the hippest.
    If you shoot half as good as he jams—

    Dad, no one says “hippest” anymore.
    Well, they ought to, ’cause this cat
    is so hip, when he sits down he’s still standing, he says.

    Real funny, Dad.
    You know what, Josh?
    What,  Dad?

    I’m dedicating this next song to you.
    What’s the next song?
    Only the best song,

    the funkiest song
    on Silver’s Paris Blues album:

    At first

    I didn’t like the name
    because so many kids made fun of me
    on the school bus,
    at lunch, in the bathroom.
    Even Mom had jokes.

    It fits you perfectly, Josh, she said:
    You never clean your closet, and
    that bed of yours is always filled
    with cookie crumbs and candy wrappers.
    It’s just plain nasty, son.

    But, as I got older
    and started getting game,
    the name took on a new meaning.
    And even though I wasn’t into
    all that jazz,
    every time I’d score,
    or steal a ball,
    Dad would jump up
    smiling and screamin’,

    That’s my boy out there.
    Keep it funky, Filthy!

    And that made me fee
    real good
    about my nickname.

  • Reviews

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