Chapter 47

The ref blew his whistle, and the battle for the state championship was on. We ran forward. Jimmy kicked the ball, and we watched it sail through the air deep into the Cougar backfield. I looked out of the corner of my eye. Robbie was streaking ahead on the left and Larry and Jimmy in the center. The idea was simple: get to the ball fast and force a turnover. A blocker came up in front of me. I hit him, spun to my right and kept going.

I picked up on the ball and put on the speed, but another blocker hit me from the side and I almost lost my balance. By the time I regained it, Larry was all over the guy. The ball went loose, and there was Robbie scooping it up. Before she could take a step, two Cougars hit her. She went down hard, but held onto the ball.

The story of the first half was turnover. I'm pretty sure we set a state record for turnovers in the first quarter, and the second quarter was worse. When the gun signaled the end of the half there were nine interceptions. Mike had thrown three and Robbie one.

I not only didn't have any interceptions charged against me, I led the game in passing yards. Twelve. That's for the half. It was obvious that the battle was going to be on the ground.

But on the ground wasn't much better. Eighteen fumbles, nine for each side. It was like the battle for the Eastern front in World War Two. We gained a yard, we lost a yard.

At least the sports writers were wrong. With a nothing to nothing score as we trudged toward the locker rooms, the Cougars weren't dominating anything.

It was one of the quietest half-time locker rooms I'd ever been in. We weren't whipped, we were determined. We didn't need rah-rah. We just had to go back out and fight for every yard.

Robbie motioned to me, and we found a private spot between rows of lockers. "Hold me," she asked quietly.

Hugging a girls when you're wearing full pads isn't very satisfying. When she's in pads, too, it's downright frustrating. But I held her.

"I want it so bad." I knew she meant the game and not anything with me.

"Shhhush. Just relax. Try to remember that in the real world, we're not even supposed to be here yet. We're just sophomores."

"That doesn't help," she said and held me tighter.

"How 'bout this: if we lose, we blame everything on Mike."

Robbie laughed. "Works for me." She let go and stepped back. "Are we going to lose?"

I knew she wasn't looking for confidence building. I shrugged. "We're good, so are they. We want it, so do they. It may come down to luck. I'm just glad to be playing ball."

"That's what I like about you. You see the big picture."

"It's not a big picture, it's a very small one. I like what I'm doing. It's all about me. How far can I push myself? I guess I'm an individual in a team sport. That's why baseball is my favorite sport, it's the most individual team sport there is. Don't get me wrong, I like to win. Hell, I love to win. But this is about me looking good."

Robbie grinned. "You're so full of it."

"Ready to play some football?"

"Yeah, I think I am. But I still want to win."

"Well if Monster Girl wants to win, it's all over. The Cougars might as well go home.

The Cougars kicked off to start the second half.

Mike was supposed to take the kickoff, but Robbie accidentally bumped him out of the way and caught the ball. Larry and I jumped in front of her, and the phalanx charged forward to the Cougar forty-nine. As I helped Robbie back to her feet I noticed Mike still standing on our twenty, watching.

The next play I took the hike and faded back. I was supposed to hand off to Mike, but saw Robbie was open and fired a short five-yard pass to her. Monster Girl found a hole and added eight yards to our total.

Mike grabbed my face mask. "That wasn't the play."

I grinned. "That's a first down. Want to ask the ref to call it back?"

We set up again. I took the hike, faded back. Robbie and Mike were in motion. The plan was fake to Robbie and hand-off to superstar. I slammed the ball into Robbie's gut. Our line shifted right to cover Mike. Their line shifted to cover ours, and Robbie punched out another nine yards.

"That wasn't the play I sent in," the coach yelled when I trotted to the sidelines a minute later.

"It worked. We're second down with a yard to go."

"I send in plays for a reason."

"Robbie's on fire. I saw openings, I exploited them."

"Sit!" he pointed toward the bench.

I sat and watched Mike get thrown for a six yard loss.

Third and seven. Mike took the snap, faded back, then instead of the handoff to Robbie, he tucked the ball in and headed toward our sideline. Unfortunately, so did two of the largest tackles I'd ever seen. I wondered if they had Sasquatch blood. Mike reversed and headed the other way. Another Cougar broke through our line and headed right at him. Mike reversed again, and all three of them hit him at once.

As I watched them climb off our star quarterback I almost felt sorry for him. That lasted until he got back to the huddle and I heard him yell "... block for a change."

"Sims!" The coach yelled, and I jumped off the bench.

"Yes, Coach."

"You're in for Mike. We're going to punt.

I popped off a snappy salute and rushed onto the field, pulling my helmet on as I ran. I got to the huddle and tapped Mike on the shoulder. He looked up, and I jerked my thumb over my shoulder toward the sideline. He nodded and trotted off.

"Okay, ladies and Monster Girls, We're gonna punt on two or Monster them on thirteen."

"Is that what the coach called?" Jake Avery asked.

"Who's the quarterback here?" I asked with a grin.

Jake shook his head. "You are, at least, for one more play."

"On the punt, get down field as fast as you can and stop them hard. They don't cross the fifty. Right?" I looked around the huddle, everybody nodded. "Let's do it." We clapped and rushed to our positions.

Robbie hung back. "You sure about this?"

I smiled. "Can you get me a first down?"

She grinned back. "Can you get me the ball?"

We set up, Jake at center. Mark Russell, who had the only decent foot on the team was about six yards behind him. I was three yards from the line and a yard-and-a half to the right.

"Down!" I looked around. "Set!" I saw Robbie at the far end across from one of the Sasquatch twins. "Fourteen!" Their backfield was spread out waiting for the punt. "Eleven!" Well, thirteen always was my lucky number. "Thirteen!"

Jake snapped the ball diagonally to me. I caught it, shifted it until I could feel the threads. Mark took two steps forward and kicked thin air. I pulled the ball up by my ear and fired a short pass.

Robbie hit Sasquatch with her left shoulder, then rolled right and to the side of him. She reached up in the air and pulled the ball down and into her side. She'd gotten three good steps before anyone knew she had the ball.

Robbie took about three more steps, then jerked to the right just as one of the Cougars dived for her legs. He missed, and she spun out of another defender's reach and started running toward the sideline. A Cougar grabbed her by the shoulder pads from the back, but she refused to go down. She took a step, then another, dragging him along.

Another Cougar hit her from the side, and she almost went down, but managed to struggle up. The player on her back had been knocked off. She jumped over a player diving for her knees and managed another five steps before the Cougar quarterback nailed her right in the chest and knocked her onto her back.

Seventeen yards. We had our first down with four yards to spare. I might actually get to play some more ball.

The Pasco coach was yelling that she'd gone down, her knee had touched, but all three officials were shaking him off.

I rushed to Robbie. "You okay?"

She smiled weakly. "You got me the ball."

I grinned back. "You got me the first down."

She slapped me on the back and started to jog toward the huddle, but she looked a little shaky.

Mike was running onto the field pointing at me.

I nodded, then looked toward the sideline and caught the coach's eye. I pointed toward Robbie, then toward the sideline. He nodded, and called up Cory Wood to replace her.

I ran toward Robbie, caught up, and steered her toward the sidelines. I parked her on a bench and ran to the coach.

He grabbed my face mask and pulled me close until his forehead was almost touching my helmet. "What do you think you're doing out there?" he yelled.

"Playing football," I yelled back. "Ya see an opening, you go for it."

The coach stared, then jerked me forward, his head bumping my helmet. "Good job. Go make sure she's all there."

I grinned and nodded.

I sat next to Robbie, putting my arm around her. "How's my Monster Girl?"

"Okay," she said without enthusiasm. "How come I always get tackled by guys bigger than me?"

"I don't know. Maybe because you're the smallest person on both teams."

"Doesn't seem fair."

"If it was any more fair, they'd outlaw you."

"I say we call it a draw, and you and I go jump in a hot tub."

"That is the best plan I've heard today. Think you can sell them on it?" I pointed to the opposite sideline.

"Damn competitive bastards," she muttered.

I laughed at Monster Girl calling anyone competitive.

"It's been a long season," she sighed.

"It's not over yet. You think next year we should throw a game or two so we don't have to mess with play-offs?"

"Bite your tongue," Robbie said with a laugh.

I glanced at the field. "Thirty-nine right," I said before looking back at Robbie. "I think I'll let you bite it for me."

She watched the play unfold. Mike gained three yards, third and seven.

"So what are you going to do with yourself without football or the play?" I asked as the team huddled again.

"I don't know. What's next?" She nodded toward the field.

"Twenty-two left."

"I suppose I could catch up on my homework," she mused.

"Like you're behind," I scoffed.

"I'm not behind, I'm just not as far ahead as I'd like."

I nodded and we watched the play on the field. We gained another two yards.

"Punt," we said together.

"That's a given," I added.

"Unless you're on the field," Robbie accused.

"Sometimes I even surprise myself."

Robbie looked at me thoughtfully, then we watched the game. Pasco received the kick and brought the ball back out to our thirty yardline.

Our defense did a hell of a job, and four downs later the Cougars punted. Mike took the kick on our forty and ran it back to their forty-nine. So far we were keeping the game on their half of the field.

"Okay, hotshot," Robbie challenged. "What's he gonna run now?"

"Eighteen to Brian," I said confidently.

We watched as Mike executed number eighteen in our playbook. The pass to Brian was blocked by a Cougar defender.

Robbie looked at me.

I shrugged. "Probably twenty-three left or he might get tricky and go seven tackle eligible."

Robbie got off the bench and wandered over to the coach. A second later he yelled, "Sims!"

I jumped up and hurried over.

"Tate says you think Mike is predictable."

"I'm not complaining," I explained, wondering why Robbie would rat me out like that. "Mike's doing a great job. The Cougars have to be the toughest team in the state."

"Sims..." he paused while we watched the play, twenty-three left. Mike gained four yards. Second and six. "What's next?"