Chapter 18

Saturday, I was at my first game actually on the field with the JV team. We were playing Whyatt High School from Fort Worth, which had a record of three and one as opposed to our 0-4, and they had a hell of an offense from the tape we’d watched.

Still, I was as pumped as I could be, to finally show what I could do on a slightly bigger stage. More so because this was a home game and our stands were packed. The away team’s stands were fuller than I was used to from being on the freshman team, but that could also have been partly explained by it being Saturday instead of a Thursday, making it a lot easier for people to make the long drive to get here.

“Ready to show us what you’ve got, hotshot?” Jerry Roach asked, bumping my shoulder as we jogged to the sideline after ripping through the banner and screaming like banshees.

“Just try to keep up,” I shot back with a grin.

We won the coin toss and the kickoff return went okay, getting the ball to our 25-yard line. Coach Holloway’s first series of calls were all runs, which wasn’t a shock. Wheaton was a running team, and everyone knew it. I hoped to be able to change some of that, but I knew I wasn’t going to be able to do that in my first game.

Not that running plays were a mistake. The coach stuck to it because it worked.

As the snap came to me, I pivoted and handed Jerry the ball. He exploded off the left tackle, breaking through a narrow gap. He juked a linebacker and plowed forward, dragging a cornerback for an extra yard. Six yards. Not bad.

“Nice work,” I said as we jogged back to the huddle.

“Just getting started.”

The next play was a fullback drive. On the snap, the line held strong, pushing back Whyatt’s defense as Joe Gardner barreled through the middle, bouncing off a linebacker and driving forward for three yards before the pile swallowed him.

“Third and short!” Jerry called as he trotted back to the huddle. “Let’s move the sticks.”

Coach went safe again.

I faked a quick drop back to hold the linebackers for a beat before turning to hand Jerry the ball. He followed Elton and Bryce, who double-teamed the defensive end just enough for Jerry to duck through the gap. He got hit almost immediately but twisted and fell forward, picking up two yards and the first down. The sideline erupted in cheers.

I almost whooped with joy as Coach called our first passing play. A short lob, but at least it wasn’t handing the ball off again.

I dropped back, as the receivers all cut short routes. The defense bit slightly on the play-action, and Miles turned just as I released the ball. It was low but catchable. Miles scooped it up and turned upfield for four yards before being shoved out of bounds.

Not my most stellar work, but I thought it was at least acceptable. Coach didn’t, I guess, since we were back to the ground game.

On the next play, Jerry took the handoff, bouncing outside to avoid a clogged middle. He turned up field, but a cornerback came flying in, wrapping him up after a modest three-yard gain. The defense was tightening up, and we knew it.

On third down, Coach called for another run, this time sending Joe up the gut again. The snap was clean, and the handoff smooth, but their defensive line basically knew what we were doing now.

Joe barely made it to the line of scrimmage before he was swallowed up, leaving us with fourth down. Coach waved for the punt team, and we jogged off the field. Not the worst drive ever, but the slow grinding didn’t really get the team energized.

Whyatt took over and immediately showed why their offense was so dangerous. Their quarterback had an arm and his coaches weren’t as afraid to let him use it as Coach Holloway was with us. They kept threading passes over the middle and connecting on deep outs. Our defense managed to bend without breaking, forcing them to settle for a field goal, but I couldn’t help feeling a twinge of envy watching their passing game click so smoothly.

It also put us down by three.

The rest of the quarter saw us sticking to short runs and conservative passes. We chipped away at the defense, picking up small chunks of yardage on running plays, while I mixed in a couple of play-action passes to keep the defense honest, but so short it wasn’t enough to actually get anything going and we struggled to string together enough plays to threaten the end zone.

I had a little bit of hope as the second quarter started when Coach called another play-action pass, giving me a chance to open the field up.

I faked the handoff to Jerry, the defense biting hard as their linebackers surged forward. Rolling out to my right, I kept my eyes downfield. Miles broke out of his short route, cutting toward the sideline. The corner covering him stumbled, just enough for me to release the ball. It spiraled cleanly, hitting Miles in stride. He turned upfield and managed to fight off the safety for an extra couple of yards before going down. Eight yards. Not bad.

It felt good to actually get the ball moving again.

On the next snap, I handed the ball off to Jerry, who took it off tackle. Elton and Bryce opened just enough of a gap, and Jerry burst through it. He juked past a safety and stiff-armed another defender, earning an extra five yards before being brought down with a fifteen-yard gain. The sideline erupted, along with the stands, as we started gaining some traction.

Not that it was all big plays. The next series was a steady grind. Three runs back-to-back chipped away at Whyatt’s defense, giving us another first down, but just barely.

Coach gave me another shot at a short pass, and things went off the rails. I saw Dwight running a short crossing route, open by a step and I threw it just a hair too far ahead. Dwight stretched for it, but their linebacker read the pass perfectly. He jumped the route and snagged the ball.

Before Dwight could react, he was sprinting upfield. Elton Marti managed to trip him up after about ten yards, but the damage was done and the momentum shifted back to Whyatt. Their offense picked us apart with a mix of quick mid-range passes and solid runs, driving straight downfield. Despite our defense’s best efforts, they punched it in for a touchdown with a short pass over the middle, and then added the extra point on top of it, putting the game at 10 and 0.

That really sapped us, although our defense seemed to take it personally and tightened up some. The next few drives were a slog on both sides. Whyatt’s defense adjusted, stacking the box against our runs and forcing us to punt twice. Our defense returned the favor and kept Whyatt from scoring again. Both teams traded punts, and neither managed more than twenty yards per drive.

To say I was frustrated was an understatement. We’d started the quarter so well and my interception had taken the wind out of our sails.

Thankfully, it didn’t last, maybe because they were having as many problems as we were. With two minutes left in the half, we finally started putting something together. It wasn’t particularly easy and every yard was a fight. Jerry and Joe kept grinding it out, forcing third downs on almost every set of downs, but we converted each time.

Coach even let me throw again, in spite of my earlier interception, with short slants to Miles, Mickey, and Dwight, which gave us just enough breathing room to keep the chains moving. By the time we crossed midfield, the clock had ticked down to under a minute.

On first-and-ten from the twenty, Jerry followed Elton through a gap, dragging a linebacker for five yards, putting us at second-and-five. I kept an eye on the clock as we hurried back to the line.

The next play was a power run to the left. Bryce and Elton collapsed the edge, and Jerry bounced outside, picking up seven yards before being shoved out of bounds. First-and-goal at the eight with thirty seconds left.

Coach signaled another run. I’d hoped we would go for a short pass, but even passing teams tended to stick with the ground game at the goal line. The snap was clean, and Jerry barreled straight up the middle, fighting through a swarm of defenders. He gained four hard-fought yards, and we scrambled to reset. The clock kept ticking.

On second-and-goal, Joe took the handoff, pounding into the pile. He was stopped at the two-yard line. Third down. Ten seconds.

We hurried back to the line in a hurry-up offense, with me calling the play from the line, which was another handoff to Jerry. The snap hit my hands, and I turned to him. He charged forward, following Elton’s lead block. The defense surged, but Jerry lowered his shoulder and pushed through the pile. His momentum carried him over the goal line as the referee’s arms shot up. Touchdown!

The crowd roared, and the sideline exploded like we’d won the game, instead of ending up a field goal behind at halftime. I think they were just excited to see us do anything of note.

The extra point was good and we headed to the field house behind 10 to 7. It wasn’t pretty, but at least we were back in it.

We were in good spirits, in spite of being behind, as we headed into the field house. Sure, we were down, but getting that touchdown right before the break had injected some life into the team.

“Alright, boys,” Coach said as he began his mid-game speech. “They’re good, but so are we. Defense, tighten up those zones. Don’t let their receivers get behind you so much. You know they’re going to throw a lot, so be ready for it. Offense, we’re moving the ball, but we need to finish drives. Stick to the plan, and we’ll wear ‘em down. Got it?”

A chorus of “Yes, Coach!” came back to him.

As the players dispersed, I made my way over to him, waiting patiently for a chance to talk.

“What is it, Sims?”

“Coach, we’re running fine, but their secondary’s cheating up cause they know we’re going to do it almost every play. Mickey and Dwight have been beating their guys consistently and they’ve been light in the backfield. If we open up the passing game a little, I think we can exploit that.”

He shook his head before I even finished. “I appreciate the input, but we run our system, Blake. I’ve been coaching this game a long time and, believe it or not, I might know what I’m doing. You stick to running my plays. We don’t need flash; we need execution.”

“But...”

“No ‘buts,’ Sims. You focus on what I call. That’s how you help this team.”

I bit back my frustration and nodded. “Yes, Coach.”

As I turned away Jorden, who’d only been a few steps away, said, “Guess you’re not as big a deal as you thought, huh?”

I shot him a glare but let it slide. He wasn’t worth it.

Maybe talking to the coach had been a bad idea, though, because as the third quarter started, Coach pulled me and sat me on the bench, sending Jorden onto the field instead, with him looking smug.

I was seething on the inside, but I knew better than to argue, since that was what probably put me on the bench in the first place.

My exile didn’t last long, however, as the first drive went downhill fast. On second down, Whyatt’s blitz overwhelmed our line. To make it worse, Jorden hesitated in the pocket and their linebacker drilled him. The ball popped loose, and Whyatt’s defensive end scooped it up, sprinting untouched into the end zone, leaving the score at 17 to 7 after the extra point.

Coach’s experiment ended with that goal. “Sims, get back in there.”

I grabbed my helmet and jogged onto the field after the kickoff put us at the twenty-five. I wanted to show him that keeping me in was the way to go, but Coach stuck to the ground game. Jerry took the first carry off-tackle, barreling forward for six yards. The next play was a fullback dive, and Joe fought his way up the middle for three more.