CHARACTER
The Crossoverby Kwame Alexander

Josh 'Filthy McNasty' Bell

Josh “Filthy McNasty” Bell

Quick Facts

Who They Are

Bold on the court and lyrical on the page, Josh Bell—aka Filthy McNasty—lives at the intersection of basketball and poetry. He’s a kid whose sense of self is braided into his family’s legacy and his own physical signature: long dreadlocks he calls his “wings.” Through his voice, the story explores Family and Brotherhood, Identity and Self-Discovery, and the uneasy Coming of Age that arrives with heartbreak. Josh’s swagger is real, but so are his vulnerabilities; he’s as quick to define a word as he is to cross up a defender, and both become tools for understanding who he is when everything starts to change.

Personality & Traits

Josh is driven by passion and sharpened by language. He performs his identity—on-court and on-page—yet struggles when that performance collides with loss, jealousy, and responsibility.

  • Passionate and articulate: He narrates in verse, drops vocabulary lists, and treats words like handles—precise, creative, and expressive. His poetic boasting and crisp metaphors show a mind that thinks in rhythm and image.
  • Confident and competitive: As “Filthy McNasty,” his game is so “downright dirty” it intimidates opponents. His rivalry with JB pushes both to excel, and his swagger often fuels his dominance.
  • Sensitive and insecure: When JB spends time with Alexis, Josh feels cut off from his other half. That insecurity surfaces in the lonely stretches after practice and in his fixation on what’s being taken from him.
  • Prone to anger: Jealousy hardens into rage in the split-second when he fires the ball into JB’s face. The outburst exposes the gap between his self-control as a playmaker and his immaturity as a brother.
  • Loyal and family-focused: He venerates his father’s “Basketball Rules,” respects his mother’s authority, and defines “team” first through family. Even when he falters, love pulls him back.
  • Physical marker as identity: Taller than JB and crowned with dreadlocks—his “wings”—he sees his hair as a living link to his father’s glory. The forced shave becomes a public, painful unmaking of his boyhood self.

Character Journey

Josh begins secure: he’s a star with a signature look, a twin whose bond feels unbreakable, a son basking in his father’s orbit. Then the ground shifts. JB’s new relationship leaves Josh displaced; a botched bet slices off his locks, and shaving his head feels like losing a piece of his soul. Hurt calcifies into anger; the violent pass that breaks JB’s nose triggers his suspension and isolation. When his father collapses, the story veers from court drama to crisis. Grief strips away performance and forces him to confront Conflict and Forgiveness—first with JB, then with himself. In the championship, he plays not for swagger but in tribute, and after their father’s death he begins to shoulder the weight of Grief and Loss and the responsibility of Legacy and Father-Son Relationships. By the end, his identity is less about hair and hype and more about love, resilience, and showing up.

Key Relationships

  • Jordan “JB” Bell: Their twin bond is a living duet—trash talk and telepathy, rivalry and reliance. Alexis’s arrival and the broken-nose incident rupture that harmony, but the crucible of their father’s illness draws them back together. Their reconciliation, sealed by a ring, reframes brotherhood as daily forgiveness rather than automatic closeness.

  • Chuck “Da Man” Bell: Mentor, myth, and dad. Josh chases his father’s vertical—those “wings” in old highlights—but learns that legacy isn’t just spectacular dunks; it’s rules, discipline, and tenderness. Chuck’s sudden death turns their rituals into responsibilities Josh must now carry for two.

  • Dr. Crystal Bell: The family’s steady center. Her rules and insistence on academics cut through the boys’ tunnel vision, and her calm leadership during crisis models a version of strength that Josh can imitate once bravado no longer suffices.

  • Alexis (“Miss Sweet Tea”): The catalyst for Josh’s jealousy. He initially sees her as an intruder, but her presence forces him to recognize JB as his own person and to expand his idea of family. Accepting her means accepting change.

Defining Moments

The beats that redefine Josh’s sense of self move from hair and hurt to humility and love.

  • The Haircut (“Cut”): Losing several locks in a bet and then shaving his head feels like losing his wings. Why it matters: It dramatizes how fragile identity can feel at twelve—and foreshadows larger losses he can’t control.
  • The Violent Pass (“Before”): He rockets a pass into JB’s face, breaking his nose, and gets suspended. Why it matters: It’s the cost of unchecked anger—talent without emotional discipline can wound the people you love.
  • Dad’s Collapse (“At Noon, in the Gym, with Dad”): Josh witnesses his father’s heart attack and tries CPR. Why it matters: The novel pivots from sport to survival; Josh’s priorities and perspective are irrevocably altered.
  • The Championship Game (“The Last Shot”): He plays while his father is dying and sinks the winner. Why it matters: Performance becomes homage; Josh learns to play for something beyond himself.
  • The Ring (“Free Throws”): After the funeral, JB gives Josh their dad’s ring—“I guess you Da Man now, Filthy.” Why it matters: It’s reconciliation and succession at once, conferring responsibility and brotherly trust.

Symbols & Meaning

Josh’s persona splits between the boast and the boy. “Filthy McNasty” is the fearless, ankle-breaking alter ego; “Josh” is the son and twin learning how to hurt, heal, and forgive. His dreadlocks, modeled on his father’s, symbolize youthful certainty and inherited pride; their loss strips him down to something truer and more durable. In a book obsessed with flight and balance, his “wings” aren’t hair but the family that keeps him aloft—and the maturity that steadies his landing. He ultimately stands as a portrait of Identity forged not by appearances but by love and responsibility.

Essential Quotes

  • “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.” This is swagger with a thesis: the public performance that defines how Josh wants to be seen. The rhyme and rhythm announce a persona, but the split—“Josh” versus “Filthy”—sets up the inner conflict the story will test.

  • “I fire a pass / so hard, / it levels him, / the blood / from his nose / still shooting / long after the shot- / clock buzzer goes off.” The line breaks mimic the violence—sharp, staccato, unstoppable. Josh’s precision turns destructive here, revealing how competitive fire, ungoverned by empathy, can spill past the whistle and into real harm.

  • “Who’s gonna fix the damage that’s been done to mine?” After breaking JB’s nose, Josh realizes apologies don’t reset trust. The question shifts the focus from the spectacle of the injury to the invisible work of repair—emotional labor he’s just beginning to understand.

  • “I guess you Da Man now, Filthy, JB says. / And for the first time in my life / I don’t want to be.” The title he once craved lands like a burden. In rejecting the glory of “Da Man,” Josh embraces responsibility and grief, recognizing that leadership without the father who modeled it is heavy, not heroic.

  • “I watch / the ball / leave his hands / like a bird / up high, / skating / the sky, / crossing over / us.” The image fuses basketball grace with mortality; “crossing over” is both a dribble and a passing on. Josh learns to read beauty and loss in the same motion, an acceptance that marks his true coming of age.