Go Long! Page 4

  “Okay,” Cody said. “Oklahoma, on three.”

  “Cody, man,” Tiki said, “I need a breather.”

  “Not now, Barber. After this play.”

  “But—”

  “Hey out there!” Coach Ontkos called from the sidelines. “Quit jabbering and run the play!”

  Shaking his head, Tiki, still out of breath, gave up the argument and got down into his three-point stance.

  “Sixty-four . . . thirty-two . . . hut, hut, hut!” Again the snap, and again the handoff to Tiki. This time, he stutter-stepped, giving John Berra, his fullback, the chance to hit the line first. Tiki followed him, somehow staying upright as he was hit first from the left, then the right.

  Berra blasted between the tackles and fell to the ground. Tiki leapt over him and into the flat. The whole field was open in front of him. All he had to do was run like his life depended on it! Except Tiki was now completely out of breath. His feet felt like a pair of stone pillars. He’d gone only ten yards when the linebackers caught up to him and dropped him.

  “First down!” the ref shouted, and the chains were moved.

  “Nice play, Tiki!” Coach Ontkos yelled from the sideline, clapping his hands.

  But Cody was standing there in the huddle with his hands on his hips. “How do you not score a touchdown on that play, Barber?” he said, frowning. “You’re slower than a snail.”

  Tiki was too out of breath to even answer. He just shook his head, turned, and waved to Coach Ontkos to take him out. Then he dragged himself off to the sideline.

  “Hey! Where you going, Barber?” Cody yelled after him.

  Tiki ignored him, taking a seat on the bench to catch his breath and recover.

  He watched as Cody dropped back and threw a long bomb—but it was too long, way over the head of Fred Soule. The Badgers’ safety picked it off and ran it all the way back to the Eagles’ forty yard line!

  Cody kicked at the grass, throwing his hands in the air as he headed for the bench. “How do you miss that, Soule?” he yelled as they sat down not far from Tiki.

  “What?” Fred replied. “It was ten yards over my head, dude!”

  “Next time, get down the field faster,” Cody shot back. “Man, you and Barber are a couple of slugs! You’ve gotta be the two slowest people on the planet!”

  While the boys were arguing, the Badgers were running their offense. Tiki watched as Ronde dropped back in coverage, playing man-to-man on the Badgers’ number one wide receiver.

  The quarterback launched a long bomb. Ronde kept up with his man, stride for stride, and leapt into the air just in time to flick the ball away with his fingertips.

  “That’s my man!” Tiki yelled. “Yeah, Ronde! Way to knock it down!”

  It was the first good thing that had happened for the Eagles that day, and it saved a touchdown on that drive, because the next two plays went nowhere.

  The rest of the quarter was a defensive struggle, with neither team able to push the ball into the other team’s red zone.

  Finally, in the middle of the second quarter, the Eagles broke through. Cody hit Tiki on a short pass in the flat at midfield. Tiki knew the linebacker would be on him from behind, so he cut to his left, making the defender miss his tackle.

  Tiki regained his balance quickly, putting one hand on the ground to steady himself. Then he darted forward through a hole between two other Badgers. He was at the forty . . . the thirty . . . the twenty . . .

  Tiki was breathing hard. It was a hot day, and in his padding and helmet, sweat was pouring off him like water from a fountain. But he couldn’t stop now. He could hear the footsteps of his pursuers, almost close enough behind to reach out and grab him!

  He was at the ten . . . the five . . .

  Tiki leapt into the air. The guy behind him must have jumped at exactly the same time, because he came down on top of Tiki’s legs—in the end zone.

  Touchdown, Eagles! It was Tiki’s first score of the new season, and man, did it ever feel good!

  He ran back to hug his teammates, and they all jumped up and down, forgetting the bad start they’d had. With the extra point, the score was tied, and it was only a matter of time before they overwhelmed the much smaller, slower Badgers.

  But they didn’t count on the one Badger who wasn’t at all slow. They didn’t count on his tremendous runback of the kickoff that followed Tiki’s touchdown.

  “Who is that little freakazoid?” Cody asked Tiki after they’d watched the Badgers’ speedy number one dance into the Eagles’ end zone. “He’s barely five feet tall!”

  Tiki frowned. He himself wasn’t much taller. Lagging behind all their friends in their “growth spurt” was a sensitive subject for both Ronde and him—and Cody was anything but sensitive. He just said whatever came into his head, not caring how anyone else felt about it.

  The first half ended with the score 14–7, Badgers. In the locker room, Coach Pellugi tried to pick up the Eagles’ spirits. “Come on, team,” he said. “We’re better than this. We’ve got to get back our swagger and dominate these guys!”

  Tiki and Ronde looked at one another. For some reason, Coach Pellugi didn’t have the knack of getting the team psyched for a comeback victory. Kids were sitting around, not really paying attention. Even when Pellugi asked for a team cheer, it came out sounding totally lame.

  “Where’s Wheeler, anyway?” Cody grumbled out loud.

  “That’s ‘Coach Wheeler’ to you,” Coach Ontkos said, his hands on his hips.

  “Sorry,” said Cody, not looking up at him. “Coach Wheeler. But I mean, shouldn’t he be here?”

  Sam Scarfone, their hulking defensive end, nodded in agreement. “I know he’s new and all, but—is he even at the game?”

  “He’s in the stands,” said Coach Pellugi. “Taking notes, I believe.”

  Cody clucked his tongue and sighed, shaking his head.

  “Hey!” Coach Ontkos said. “That’s enough of that! You just do your job, and let the coaches do theirs. You hear me?”

  “Yes, Coach,” Cody mumbled, frowning.

  “Now, get your head back in the game, Hansen,” Ontkos ordered as Cody sat back down on the bench.

  Once Ontkos was out of earshot, though, Cody shook his head. “Great. This is just great.”

  Tiki felt a shiver go through him. He was worried, big-time, and not just because they were losing at the half.

  It wasn’t that he thought Mr. Wheeler wouldn’t be an okay coach. But with Cody in this kind of mood, Wheeler might have a mutiny on his hands before he ever took charge of the team.

  • • •

  As the second half started, the Eagles yelled encouragement to each other. None of the boys wanted to start the season with a loss to the lowly Badgers—that would be worse than horrible; it would be disgraceful!

  Adam Gunkler kicked the ball straight to the back of the end zone—but that pesky little runback specialist for the Badgers went back to get it and came out with a real head of steam.

  He made the Eagles’ players miss once, twice, three times, until he had only one man to beat—Ronde, who finally dragged him down at the Eagles’ fourteen yard line. Three plays later, the score was 21–7, and the Eagles were in a deep, deep hole.

  “Okay, I guess it’s up to me,” Cody said as the offense got up off the bench for their first series of the second half. “Let’s go get ’em.”

  On first down, Coach Ontkos called for a quarterback keeper. Cody faked the handoff to Tiki, then ran with the ball around the end.

  Tiki tried to get in front and put a block on one of the defenders, but the enormous Badger lineman knocked him backward, right off his feet, then forced Cody out of bounds.

  “Come on, Barber!” Cody yelled at him back in the huddle. “Put a body on someone, will you? What are you, a total weakling?”

  After an incomplete pass on second down, Coach Ontkos sent in the third down play—a crossing pattern with Fred Soule as the primary target.

  Cody took
the snap, looked downfield, then tucked the ball under his arm and ran with it. But since they’d seen him try a run on first down, the Badgers were ready for this gimmick. Cody was dragged down in the backfield for a loss. Now the Eagles had to punt again.

  “What were you thinking out there, Hansen?” Coach Ontkos barked as the offense returned to the bench and the kicking team took the field.

  “Soule was covered!” Cody explained. “I had to make a quick decision.”

  “Are you kidding? I was wide open!” Fred protested.

  “Yeah, right,” Cody said.

  “Hey!” Ontkos shouted. “You’re on the same team—start acting like it!” He shook his head and walked away to watch the punt.

  This time, Adam kept the kick away from the Badgers’ little speedster. Once again, the teams settled in to a defensive back-and-forth. The third quarter ended with the Eagles down two touchdowns and the Badgers driving for the kill.

  On the first play of the fourth quarter, the Badgers’ quarterback threw up a quick out into the near corner of the end zone. But Ronde was way ahead of him. He stepped in front of the receiver, caught the ball, and raced right back up the sideline. The Eagles, including Cody and Tiki, all screamed with joy, jumping up and down and cheering Ronde on.

  “Touchdown!” Tiki yelled along with everyone else as they all high-fived each other. “Man, Ronde’s having one whale of a game!”

  They were still down a touchdown, with most of the fourth quarter left, and the Badgers would have the ball next. Tiki crossed his fingers, hoping he got another chance to score that day.

  Luckily, the Eagles’ defense held, and the team got the ball back for one more desperate drive.

  Coach Ontkos called for a special play—the Statue of Liberty. Cody was supposed to drop back to pass, cocking his arm back with the ball—at which point Fred Soule, who had come around the end, was supposed to grab the ball and run with it behind Tiki’s block, totally faking out the defense.

  But when the time came for Fred to grab the ball, Tiki was shocked to see Cody pull it away and run with it himself!

  What is he doing? Tiki wondered. Maybe Cody had just messed up, but it sure looked like he’d yanked the ball back on purpose!

  If Tiki and Fred were fooled by Cody’s move, the Badgers were not. They not only threw Cody for a loss, they made him fumble!

  Luckily, the ball bounced right up into Tiki’s arms. He grabbed it on the run, and kept going at full clip, right through the defensive line and straight down the field!

  Someone was after him, he could feel it. He took a quick glance behind him, and saw that little pest gaining on him.

  How fast is this kid? Tiki wondered.

  The defender leapt and grabbed onto Tiki’s legs. But even Tiki was bigger than this kid, and much, much stronger. Tiki dragged the kid along with him right into the end zone!

  “YESSS!” Tiki roared as he got up and spiked the ball. The Eagles were now within an extra point of tying the game.

  But Paco’s long snap from center was high, and the holder, Joey Gallagher, couldn’t get the ball down in time for Adam to kick it! Instead, Gallagher ran with the ball and was stopped just short of the end zone.

  “Man, you really choked, Paco!” Cody yelled. “This team is so lame! I wish I went to another school. You guys are a bunch of losers!”

  Paco looked stung, and Tiki could totally relate. He felt like punching Cody out. He was quick with the criticisms, all right. But not a word about his own fumble on the Statue of Liberty play! If Tiki hadn’t picked up that ball and scored a touchdown, the game would have been over right there, and Paco’s mistake would never have happened!

  Tiki wondered if Ontkos knew what had gone on. Cody’s Statue of Liberty fake-out had happened so quickly, the coach might have missed it or thought it was just a mistake. Tiki thought about telling him Cody had done it on purpose—but he figured it wasn’t his place to tell on a teammate, no matter how much of a brat Cody was.

  There were still five minutes left to play, Tiki told himself. Time enough to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. And so he stopped thinking about it and watched the defense work as he waited to get back out on the field.

  But as hard as they tried, the Eagles never got the ball again.

  When the gun sounded to end the game, the horrible truth hit Tiki full force—the Eagles, at least for this week, were just another losing team. And at 28–7, it wasn’t even close.

  Looking up in the stands, he saw Mr. Wheeler packing up what looked like a big pair of binoculars. Tiki wondered what it was. He wondered what Mr. Wheeler thought of his team’s first, disastrous game.

  Oh, well, he thought with a shiver. We’ll all find out soon enough.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE NEW WAY

  * * *

  RONDE AND TIKI WERE SUITING UP IN THE LOCKER room, along with the rest of the team, when Coach Wheeler came in. He was wheeling a TV on a tall stand, with another machine under it.

  “At ease, gentlemen,” Wheeler said as the boys dodged the TV cart. “Before we go ahead with the same old practice routine, I’d like to try some new things with you. I like to think of it as a ‘new way’ of preparing for next week’s game.”

  He plugged in the TV and the other machine. “Gather round, team—we’re going to watch some videotape.”

  “Videotape?” Tiki repeated. “I’ve seen that on the NFL games. Replay, right? It’s cool—do you have slow motion?”

  “I do indeed. And I taped our game the other day,” Coach Wheeler said, turning on the TV and video player. “Let’s take a look and see how we did.”

  “We lost, that’s how we did,” Cody said, and most of the kids laughed, even though it wasn’t really funny.

  Ronde could see that Cody was really beginning to get on Coach Wheeler’s nerves. But the coach didn’t call Cody out. He kept his cool, at least for the moment.

  “I’m aware of that,” Wheeler said. “But let’s look at how and why we lost—so we don’t do it again. At least this way, we won’t make the same mistakes we made the first time.”

  Wheeler had put together a tape of all the best—and worst—moments of the game. He would show a key play, then ask, “What went wrong there?” Or he’d say, “Now that’s good football.”

  Then he would explain, running the play over once or twice more, until everyone understood what he was getting at.

  In the beginning, the boys were really into it. Even Cody was quick to volunteer answers whenever Coach Wheeler asked what went wrong with one of his offensive players. “Barber let a flea tackle him,” he would say. Or, “Paco whiffed on the snap.” Or, “Soule had a brain cramp.”

  Most of the boys laughed when Cody made one of his comments. But Ronde didn’t think any of it was funny. He knew they were only laughing because they were relieved it wasn’t them Cody was making fun of.

  Well, sooner or later, Ronde was sure, they’d have their turn. Cody was an equal-opportunity joker.

  “Hey, QB,” Coach Wheeler finally said, stopping the tape after one of Cody’s comments. “Why don’t you give it a rest?”

  “Just telling it like it is,” Cody said with a shrug.

  “Not in here, you’re not,” Coach Wheeler said. “This is my team, and I’m in charge. Got it?”

  “Okay, Coach,” Cody said, backing down. “Whatever.”

  Wheeler shot him an angry glance, then said, “How ’bout you give us a breakdown of what you did wrong, instead of criticizing everyone else?”

  “I said I was sorry, okay?”

  “Look. We’ve got a lot of tape to go through, and we’re wasting time here.”

  “But are we gonna get out there and practice today?” Cody asked.

  “Yeah!” some of the others agreed, and pretty soon, it was a whole chorus, clamoring to go outside and play some football.

  “You’ll get out there on the field when, and if, we get done with this,” Coach Wheeler insisted. “Now calm down, a
ll of you. None of you played a perfect game yesterday. You can still learn a thing or two from watching tape of yourselves, believe me.”

  They watched for another hour. Ronde got to see how his man had beaten him downfield by dodging Ronde’s bump at the line. “Hey—I could avoid that by making the hit quicker, and with more force,” he said to himself, making a mental note.

  Like all the other kids, he wanted to get out on the field and move around. But he could see why Mr. Wheeler wanted them to sit here and do some studying.

  When they were finally done, Coach Wheeler looked at his watch and said, “There’s not enough time to go out on the field today. We’ll get out there tomorrow and work on everything then.”

  A major groan went up from the benches.

  “FOR NOW,” Wheeler said, loud enough to make them quiet down, “I would like us to all close our eyes and breathe deeply. . . .”

  “Now what?” Cody muttered under his breath.

  Coach Wheeler didn’t hear him—or if he did, he ignored Cody. “Concentrate on your breath . . . ,” he told the players. “You’re feeling all the tension rise up through the top of your head and the bottoms of your feet . . . now I want you to visualize next week’s game against Patrick Henry. See yourself making all the right moves . . . scoring that touchdown, catching that pass, making that tackle . . .”

  “Watching that videotape . . . ,” Cody whispered, making the boys nearest to him burst out laughing.

  “Shhh . . . ,” said Coach Wheeler. “Concentrate on victory . . . see it in your mind’s eye . . . see us all held together as a team with a big, giant rubber band. . . .”

  Ronde heard sniggering from a few of the boys. He opened one eye and saw that Tiki was looking right back at him.

  Ronde opened his other eye and glanced up at the ceiling, as if to say, “This is so weird.”

  Tiki winced. Ronde knew his brother liked Mr. Wheeler as a teacher and wanted him to succeed as the Eagles’ coach. Hey, they all wanted that.

  But Wheeler’s “new way” didn’t seem like the road to success to Ronde—and clearly, not to most of the other boys, either.