Go Long! (8 page)

First it was Fred, flagged for illegal motion. Then it was Paco, penalized for holding. And finally, Tiki again, missing a key block on a pass play that led to Cody's getting sacked and fumbling. The ball was picked up by one of the Patriots, who ran it all the way back for a touchdown, just as the gun sounded, ending the first half!

Cody headed straight for the locker room. Tiki followed him. Neither of them wanted to talk to anybody right now. The rest of the team followed, but too slowly to see what Tiki saw.

As soon as they entered the locker room, Cody took off his helmet and threw it down in disgust. “This team stinks!” he shouted, kicking over a pile of plastic cups. “Can't anybody here play this game?”

Tiki picked up the cups and stacked them again before the rest of the team made it inside.
No sense in making things worse,
he thought.
Not now, when the whole team is down in the dumps.

“Keep your heads up, Eagles!” Coach Wheeler said, clapping his hands as he came into the room. “We're only down by a touchdown, okay? We can still win this game. But right now, we're being our own worst enemy. We've just got to get our heads turned around!”

Tiki sat on the locker bench and stared at the metal door. He felt like crying. As far as he was concerned,
he
was the reason his team was behind. Sure, other kids had messed up too. But not like he had.

If they lost this game, the Eagles would be zero and two—and it would be all his fault!

•   •   •

Tiki came out for the second half with an angry attitude, primed to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. He was
ready to ram right through the defenders and knock them flat on their backsides!

Coach Wheeler's game plan against the Patriots had been to stress the running game, with Tiki carrying the ball a lot.

But because the Eagles were behind in the game now, Wheeler had to shift strategies. Instead of running plays, he kept on calling for pass plays.

And on those pass plays, Cody never looked Tiki's way even once!

Tiki knew why—it was because of that argument they'd had in the lunchroom. Cody obviously hadn't forgiven him for it, because several times, Tiki was wide open and calling for the ball.

But no—Cody would throw it up there, trying to hit Fred or Joey Gallagher way down the field.

“Cody, man,
give me the ball
!” Tiki begged midway through the fourth quarter, with the Eagles still behind by seven points.

Cody shook his head. “We need to get the ball down the field in a hurry,” he said.

“Come on, dude!” Tiki moaned. “I'm wide open in the flat. Trust me, I can score off these guys!”

Cody sighed and looked Tiki in the eye. “This just isn't your day, Barber. You've got butterfingers. I'm going with what's working.”

“You think this is working?” Tiki asked him. “We've
only got seven points, and we got those on a running play!”

“Yeah—
with me running
,” Cody said, and that was the end of the discussion.

•   •   •

Meanwhile, Ronde and the defense were keeping the Eagles in the game, holding the Patriots scoreless.

With only three minutes left to go, and the Eagles on their own forty-yard line, Tiki finally persuaded Cody to look for him on the next passing play. “Okay, but don't drop it this time, Barber.”

Coach Wheeler sent Fred Soule in with the play. “Penn State, on three,” he told the huddled Eagles.

Penn State?

Tiki tried to remember what Penn State was. The Eagles hadn't used the play since last season and had never run it in practice. Tiki thought he remembered that it called for a fake handoff, followed by a quick pass to him in the right flat.

Tiki pulled off the fake, then turned to his right to receive the pass—only to see it whistle behind him.

“Barber! You idiot! You were supposed to cut
left
!”

“No, I wasn't,” Tiki muttered, distinctly remembering he was supposed to cut to the right.

But it didn't matter, because now it was fourth down. With time running out, and no time-outs left, this play was their last chance to win the game.

Joey Gallagher ran the play in. “Miami, on four.”

Uh-oh
, thought Tiki. Miami was a trick play, a flea-flicker. It called for Tiki to take the handoff, then lateral back to Cody, who would throw a long bomb past the confused defenders to Fred Soule.

Tiki took the handoff without a hitch and got the ball back to Cody. But with defenders blitzing him, Cody didn't catch the ball cleanly. By the time he got the pass off, he was about to get creamed by a two-hundred-pound lineman!

The ball fell ten yards short of its intended target, and the Patriots took over with only fifty seconds left. Their quarterback kneeled down twice, and the game was over.

Incredibly, the Eagles had lost again!

And this time, Tiki was the goat.

•   •   •

The bus ride back to Hidden Valley School was miserable. Tiki and Ronde sat next to one another, but neither had much to say.

Ronde had played well—one of the few Eagles who had. But Tiki knew his brother couldn't enjoy it when the whole team was so down.

The season was only two games old, but it was already a terrible mess. How were they even going to make the playoffs if this kept up? Beyond losing, Tiki felt even worse about his own play. He knew he and Ronde were
the most talented players on the team. But he also knew he hadn't played up to his potential.

Looking over his shoulder toward the back of the bus, Tiki could see Cody Hansen talking to a bunch of kids who were leaning in close to hear what he had to say. Every few seconds, one would turn and look at Coach Wheeler, just checking to see if he could hear them.

Tiki didn't need to hear—he knew they were all dissing the coach, blaming the team's terrible start on him.

Well, Tiki didn't think this loss was Mr. Wheeler's fault. Sure, maybe he wasn't doing a perfect job—he was new at this, after all. Tiki could understand why Mr. Wheeler might feel a little unsure of himself, having never coached a football game in his life.

But still, Wheeler wasn't the one out there on the field messing up. Besides, he'd really only taken over after the first game. So even if you did pin this latest loss on him, you couldn't blame him for the first one.

Besides, it wasn't Wheeler's fault that Coach Spangler had gone off to coach at the high school. They
all
wished Spangler was still there. But Tiki also knew that when you can't change things, you have to accept them.

Still, there were two things that he
couldn't
accept, and they kept eating at him. The first was his own poor play. How could he make so many mistakes in just one measly little game?

The second, though, was even worse, because it was
harder to correct. And that was the fact that, whoever's fault it was, the Hidden Valley Eagles weren't playing as a
team
.

•   •   •

It was Monday afternoon. All weekend, Tiki and Ronde had been in Charlottesville with their mom, visiting cousins. They'd had no chance to throw the football around. That really upset Tiki, because he was so anxious to work on his game.

All day Monday, he sat in classes without paying the slightest attention. His thoughts kept drifting back to the horrible game he'd played last Thursday.

When the bell finally sounded, ending the school day, he walked slowly down to the locker room. He was in no hurry to face his teammates again. He knew they all were probably talking about him.

Just as he was about to pull open the door to the locker room, it swung open, and there was Matt Clayton staring at him, smiling.

“Matt!” Tiki said, surprised. “What are you doing here, man?”

“Hey, Tiki,” Matt greeted him. “I had to drop something off for Coach.”

“Coach Spangler?”

“No, Coach Wheeler. He hired me to do a little job for him.”

“What kind of job?”

Matt grinned. “You'll find out soon enough. Meanwhile, I hear you guys are having a tough time.”

Tiki shook his head. “It's bad, Matt. I messed up big-time last week.”

“Well, hey, cut yourself a little slack. Wheeler's a good man—he'll turn this team around, you'll see.”

“I don't know,” Tiki said. He told Matt about Cody's attitude, and how most of the players agreed with him.

Matt frowned. “Hmmm. That
is
a problem. Unless your coach and your QB are on the same page, it's hard to win. A team's gotta play like a team, you know?”

Tiki knew, all right. He couldn't have put it better himself.

“I wish Spangler was still here,” Tiki admitted. “We all do.”

“Yeah, he's great,” Matt admitted. “But it doesn't do
me
much good.”

“What do you mean?” Tiki asked. “I read in the paper that you guys are two and zero.”

“True, but I've just been watching from the bench.”

“Huh?”

“I'm only a freshman, remember? Like you guys last year, I've got to wait my turn.”

“But you're the best quarterback to come out of Roanoke in years!”

“Thanks,” Matt said, giving Tiki a clap on the shoulder. “Glad you think so. But I've got to be patient—just like
you guys have to be patient with Coach Wheeler.”

“Man, the paper's going to slam him
and
me this week,” Tiki said.

“Forget that rag! When you win, you're the king of the world, and when you lose, you're nothing. I stopped reading about myself years ago, and you should too.”

“I guess you're right,” Tiki said. But he couldn't really see not reading the local paper—how else would you find out what was going on in town—especially when it was about
you
?

“Anyway,” Matt said, “I'll be seeing you around—what with my new job and all. . . .”

Tiki went into the locker room, curious to know what Matt's little secret was. He'd said Tiki would find out soon enough. . . .

“All right, everyone,” Mr. Wheeler said. “Today, for those of you who are willing, I'd like to try something new.”

A groan went up from many of the players.

“I've got some very interesting video here—”

“Can't we play the game, not watch it?” Cody blurted out.

Tiki could see Coach Wheeler's face getting red. But before he could say anything to Cody, other voices started piping up.

“No disrespect, Coach, but we want to get out on the field!” said Sam Scarfone.

“Yeah!” a few others echoed.

“Look, kids,” said Wheeler. “Let me explain something to you. This is not video of our last game. You guys know what you did wrong—and in case you don't, we'll be going over that with you on the field before our next game, I assure you.

“This tape is of
Martinsville's
last game. I had a former student of mine record it for us. You might know him—Matt Clayton?”

The name Matt Clayton caused a stir in the locker room. Many of them had played with Matt last year, and every one of them liked and respected him. But that didn't seem to change their minds about watching more videotape.

Wheeler cast an uncertain glance around the room. Tiki could almost read his mind. As a teacher, back in the classroom, Mr. Wheeler would never have tried to persuade his kids to do an assignment. Any kid who didn't fall in line would have gotten a paper ball thrown at him.

But as a brand-new rookie coach, Wheeler seemed unwilling to lay down the law to his team. Tiki wished he would do it, even if some of the kids didn't like it. At least it would have shown the team who was boss—the coach, not the quarterback!

Tiki saw the look in Mr. Wheeler's eyes. He was trying to be sensitive to how his team was feeling.

“Okay, look,” he said with a sigh, “
I
happen to think
this tape could help us against our next opponent—but I understand why some of you might want to get out there right away and work on what you did wrong.

“So at least for today, I'm going to make this video session optional. I'll run the tape for those of you who want to learn from it. The rest of you can go out on the field and work with Coach Ontkos and Coach Pellugi.”

Cody was the first to stand up. “Great,” he said. “I'm out of here. Anybody else wanna get out on the field?”

Sam Scarfone got up, then Joey Gallagher, and then, seeing it was okay, several boys got up at once. Pretty soon, all but a few of the Eagles had left the locker room.

At last, Ronde stood up to go. Tiki shot him a surprised and angry look.

“Everybody else is going,” Ronde whispered. “I can't just be sitting around here watching video.”

Coach Wheeler stood there shaking his head and looking at the floor. There were only three boys left in the locker room—Tiki, Fred Soule, and John Berra.

Funny—they were the three who worked the closest with Cody; the ones he yelled at most when things went wrong.

Tiki shook his head in dismay. He knew why Wheeler had given the players a choice. If he'd demanded they stay, and they
still
walked out on him, it would have been the final blow to his leadership.

“Well, I guess it's just the four of us,” said the coach. “So—let's take a look at the Colts, and see where we can take advantage of their weaknesses and protect against their strengths.”

As they watched the tape, Mr. Wheeler would pause it and point out strengths and weaknesses of the different Colt players.

“Number seventy-seven tries to bull you over most of the time,” he told John Berra. “If you let him by you, then give him a block in the direction he's going, he'll fall over his own feet and take himself right out of the play.”