Wild Card Page 10

  As they ran into the locker room and out of the storm, Ronde shouted, “Man, this weather stinks! Why does everything have to be so hard on us?”

  “Don’t complain,” Tiki told him. “It’ll be just as hard on the other team. Hey, Ronde, we’ve come this far. We can’t let a little bad weather stop us now.”

  “You’re right, Tiki. No complaining tonight. If we win, we’re in. If we lose . . .”

  “Then we’ve got only ourselves to blame,” Tiki finished for him.

  Still, Tiki knew that the bad weather would make it hard on both teams’ passing games. That hurt the Eagles more than the Rockets, who relied mainly on their defense.

  The Eagles’ passing game, while it wasn’t the team’s biggest strength, was good enough to make the defense spread out. And that left huge holes for Tiki to run through.

  But tonight there wasn’t going to be any distraction. If the Eagles were going to get to the play-offs, Tiki knew, they were going to have to pound their way in with the running game, past a stiff Rockets defense that was expecting them to do just that.

  Tiki was relieved that he wouldn’t have to do the kicking tonight. That would have doomed the team for sure.

  In the locker room everyone was excited. The talk was all about their huge good fortune, with both the Bears and the Colts losing two weeks in a row.

  “We’re getting in through the back door,” Cody said, “But who cares? Once we’re in, we’re the team to beat.”

  “That’s right,” said Sam Scarfone, who always agreed with Cody. “We’ve beaten all those other teams, and they know it—we’ll be in their heads!”

  “Would you just chill out?” Tiki said. “Let’s get ourselves into the play-offs before we start thinking we’re all that and a bag of chips.”

  “Sorry,” Cody said, putting up both hands. “When you’re right, you’re right. Let’s go get us a win, then.”

  A cheer went up from the players, and right on cue Coach Wheeler made his entrance.

  “Thank you, thank you,” he said, bowing to laughter and applause. Instantly Tiki felt the mood in the locker room lighten up and the players relax.

  That was good, he thought. They needed to play loose tonight.

  “Okay, troops,” Coach Wheeler said, gathering the team for his pregame speech. “This is it. This is the big one. We’ve worked our hardest to get this far, and I’m proud of each and every one of you. I expect to be even prouder when this game’s over.”

  “He sounds just like Mom,” Ronde whispered to Tiki.

  Tiki grinned and nodded, and he and Ronde exchanged their secret ritual handshake.

  “We’re going to run at them,” Coach Wheeler explained. “That’s because it’s a slick field out there. Ball handlers, beware. The team that fumbles the most tonight is the team that loses. Let’s not have it be us.

  “Grab that ball with both hands and keep it in tight. Don’t be trying for that extra half yard at the end of the play, because somebody’s going to hit you, and the ball’s going to come loose. Just go down when you’re tackled, and hold on to the ball.”

  Tiki knew Coach was talking to him and Ronde more than anyone else—Tiki did 75 percent of the team’s running, and Ronde ran back the kickoffs and punts.

  “Now, let’s get out there and shoot down the Rockets!”

  The Eagles went into their team chant, ending up in a loud roar as they ran through the doors and out onto Hidden Valley field.

  The home crowd went wild. Tiki was surprised to see how full the stands were, considering the miserable weather. He knew his mom was out there—she never missed a home game, work or no work—but the rest of the huge crowd?

  Tiki felt really good inside that the Hidden Valley students and parents were so fully behind their team. Even the principal was there—Dr. Anand was in the front row of the bleachers, cheering and clapping with all the rest of them!

  Of course, there was even more pressure to win when you were playing at home, with everyone you knew watching.

  Tiki forced himself to shut out all such thoughts. He hoped his teammates were doing the same, because it wasn’t just the team with fewer fumbles that would win tonight—it was the team that came with the better mental game.

  Tiki glanced over at Adam as he practiced kicking into the old soccer net. Joey, doing the holding, kept saying “Ouch!” on every kick.

  Tiki knew that with the cold air and the hard, frozen ball, the vibrations must have been going right through Joey’s hands.

  The Eagles lost the coin toss. Not a bad thing on a night like tonight, Tiki thought—a night when most of the points were likely to come from the defenses of both teams pouncing on mistakes.

  Tiki wondered how Adam’s leg would respond to the long layoff—but he needn’t have worried. Adam’s first kickoff was low, but plenty long enough.

  Tiki didn’t know if he’d kicked it that way on purpose, but it sure came out well, because the ball was bouncing and sliding around all over the place. After a furious free-for-all, the Rockets covered it way back on their own three yard line!

  Everyone slapped Adam on the helmet and shouted, “Great kick!” and “Good to have you back, man!” and “That’s our kicker!”

  Wow, Tiki thought. Adam must feel like a million bucks right now. He just hoped he would feel the same way when the game was over.

  The Rockets ran the ball three times but couldn’t get any farther than the nine yard line. Their punter barely got the ball away, and only a lucky bounce saved them from disaster. The ball rolled all the way up to the Rockets’ forty-five before Ronde smothered it.

  Tiki felt good about the Eagles’ chances as he snapped his chin strap on. Good field position, and the Rockets were already looking shaky.

  On first down Cody gave him the ball, and Paco totally nailed his man, allowing Tiki to run straight ahead through the line.

  For a second he thought he saw daylight all the way to the end zone. But the Rockets’ linebacker hit him from the blind side and threw him to the ground. It was all Tiki could do to hold on to the ball.

  Wow, he thought. It’s even worse out here than I thought!

  Next down it was John Berra’s turn. He managed to push the pile far enough forward for a first down at the thirty-four.

  Tiki’s turn again. But this time there was no hole in the middle. He had to run it around the side, and when he tried to cut and turn upfield, his feet slipped right out from under him. He landed hard, and slid all the way off the field and into the crowd of Rockets standing on their sideline.

  “WHOA!” they all shouted, laughing.

  Tiki got up and ran back onto the field. Behind him he heard one of them shouting, “Learn to skate, kid!”

  Cody tried a quarterback draw on the next down, but he was thrown for a loss of five when John Berra’s man faked him out and went right by the attempted block.

  On third down the Eagles went to Tiki again. This time the Rockets were there even before he got to the hole, and they threw him for a three yard loss.

  Time to punt, and Tiki ran off the field, disappointed. He was glad it wasn’t him who had to punt, though.

  Adam’s kick took an Eagles bounce and went into the end zone for a touchback, giving the Rockets the ball at their own twenty. Not great field position, but better than it could have been.

  The game soon turned into a slushfest, with icing on top. The field was like a skating rink. As the teams slogged back and forth through the first two quarters, it was pretty much a battle of field position—a battle the Eagles were winning, but without putting any points on the board.

  Tiki was getting more and more tense, and from the looks on the other Eagles’ faces, he wasn’t alone. He had the creepy feeling that the first team to score would be the winner of this game—and that the first team to cough up the ball would be the loser.

  Finally, with only one minute left in the half, the Eagles got the break they were looking for. The Rockets’ coach must have been get
ting frustrated with his team going nowhere, because he took a big gamble and had his quarterback throw long, going for the big score.

  Tiki looked down the field and saw, to his horror, that Ronde had fallen down! The receiver was all alone, and waving his hands for the quarterback to throw him the ball.

  But the quarterback didn’t have the ball—it had slipped out of his hand when he’d reared back to throw it! And now it was flying through the air, with at least six players leaping for it!

  It looked more like a game of volleyball than football, but the main thing was that Sam Scarfone—never known for his hands, but at least they were enormous—came down with the ball and lumbered all the way to the Rockets’ six yard line!

  Tiki yelled and jumped for joy. He promised himself that the very next time he took the ball, he was going to score a touchdown.

  On first down he took the handoff and started to one side, waiting for a hole to open up in the line. When he saw it, he didn’t waste a second.

  Tucking the ball in tight like Coach had told him to do, he lowered his head and bulled his way forward, letting himself bounce off tackle after tackle. Covered with mud as he was, no one could get a firm grip on him, and he ended the play with a dive into the end zone that sent slush and mud splattering everywhere!

  The Eagles and their fans went wild. There was dancing in the bleachers, and the school’s marching band played a happy tune.

  After making the extra point look easy, Adam sent the kickoff out of the end zone for another touchback. Ten seconds later the half ended with the Eagles up, 7–0.

  Tiki and the rest of the team couldn’t get into the locker room fast enough.

  “Man, it is cold out there!” someone said.

  “Brrrrr!” someone else agreed.

  “Somebody jack up the heat!”

  Coach Wheeler told them to stay focused. “They’re bringing out the snowplow to clear the field, so it should be a little better out there, at least for the first few minutes of the second half. And since we get the ball first, let’s try a few quick passes. Let’s go to Tiki in the flat, and then try a screen.”

  He looked at Tiki with those penetrating eagle eyes of his. “I’m trusting you to make the catch before you start running—and to hold on to the ball,” he said, grabbing Tiki by the arm. “Hold on to it, no matter what. Understand?”

  “Yes, Coach,” Tiki said, nodding. “I’ll try.”

  “No—don’t try. Trying is not good enough. Trying means you’ve defeated yourself before you’ve even begun. Don’t try—do.”

  “Y-yes, Coach. I’ll catch it, and I’ll keep it.”

  “Good. That’s what I want to hear. Everybody, on those first two plays keep the Rockets away from Tiki. Got it?”

  “YES, COACH!”

  “Okay. Let’s get back out there!”

  A cheer went up from the players, and they ran back onto the field chanting, “EA-GLES! EA-GLES!”

  Ronde received the kickoff, and instead of just covering the ball and falling to the ground to protect it, he started running upfield.

  He must see a lane, Tiki thought. “Go, Ronde!” he shouted along with everybody else.

  Ronde made it all the way out to the forty yard line. A good start to the second half.

  Now it was Tiki’s turn. Cody faked a handoff to John Berra, then dropped back. He faked a long bomb, just to throw off the rushers. Then he turned and found Tiki at the forty-seven.

  Tiki caught the ball, making sure to take it in with soft hands—absorbing it, the way a trampoline absorbs a jumper’s impact. Expecting to get hit any second, he did a blind spin move to his right and found, to his surprise, that he had an open field ahead of him!

  The footing was still slippery but not as bad as before the half. Tiki couldn’t really make many moves, so he just barreled forward until he was brought down by the safety at the Rockets’ forty-two.

  First down, Eagles!

  Next was the screen pass, and it was a beauty. Tiki took it and watched the wall of blockers form ahead of him. He followed their lead all the way down to the thirty-three yard line!

  Second and one, and Cody dove for the first down. The Eagles were now set up for another score. But the sleet hadn’t stopped falling, and already the newly plowed field was turning white again.

  On the next snap Cody slipped and fell while dropping back, and was pounced on by the Rocket left tackle. The ball came loose, and one of the Rockets picked it up. Before Tiki knew what was happening, he was chasing the ballcarrier back the other way!

  He finally caught him at the Eagles’ fourteen, but now it was the Rockets who were on the march. Before five minutes had gone by in the third quarter, they’d scored their first TD.

  Then came a play that caught all the Eagles by surprise. Tiki watched as the Rockets lined up for the extra-point kick—then faked it and ran around the end for a successful two-point conversion!

  Suddenly the Eagles were trailing, 8–7, in the most important game of their lives. And with the sleet coming down, scoring was going to be hard.

  Could it really be? Tiki wondered. Are we really about to lose? Are we really going to get shut out of these play-offs?

  Ronde took the kickoff but could do nothing on the slippery turf except run it out of bounds.

  The two teams proceeded to spend the rest of the second half the way they’d spent most of the first—in a seesaw scoreless tug-of-war on a field that just kept getting slicker and slicker.

  With only one minute and fifty-two seconds left in the game—and left in the Eagles’ season unless things changed—Ronde made a key play that gave them all a breath of hope.

  On third down and long the Rockets were forced to try a pass. Coach Wheeler knew it, and he called for an all-out blitz. Ronde was the first man through. He hit the Rockets’ quarterback on the blind side, just as he was about to let the ball fly to his wide-open receiver.

  The ball flew straight up into the air instead. On his back, Ronde let it come down right into his arms!

  And so, incredibly, against all odds, the Eagles had one last chance to save their entire season.

  Tiki ran back out onto the field, saying to himself, Let’s go! Let’s do it! Right now!

  The ball was on the Rockets’ twenty-one yard line. And there it stayed for three straight downs as the Eagles tried and failed to advance.

  Tiki ran for no gain. So did John Berra. And on third down Cody ran a keeper around an end. He wound up fumbling, but luckily the ball went out of bounds, stopping the clock with just five seconds left!

  Tiki looked over to the sideline. It was fourth down. In a normal game this would have been the time to bring out Adam for a game-winning field goal.

  But in this mess?

  Here came Adam anyway, with his gawky trot, clapping his hands and grinning like a fool.

  Tiki did the math—if Adam could somehow keep his footing and nail this kick, it would be a field goal of thirty-seven yards.

  There’s no way, Tiki couldn’t help thinking. Oh, sure, on a nice sunny day with no wind, Adam could probably kick it through from there, no problem. He was as good as any high school kicker in Virginia.

  But not on a day like this! All Adam’s kicks so far that night had been low line drives. It was really hard to get under the ball when you had to keep from slipping at the same time!

  And not only that but the long snap was hard to control with a frozen ball. Not to mention the fact that Joey Gallagher would have to catch it and put down a perfect hold.

  Stop worrying! Tiki told himself. If it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be.

  The ball was snapped, Joey gathered it in, and Adam—good old Adam—passed the hardest test he’d taken all year. He kicked that ball, sweet and true, right through the center of the uprights!

  The band struck up a victory march and the Eagles all ran out onto the field as the gun sounded to end the game. They’d done it!

  Tiki went over to shake hands with some of the
defeated Rockets.

  “We’ll get you back in the play-offs,” one of them said good-naturedly.

  “Yeah? We’ll see,” Tiki said, smiling. He was just glad that they’d still be playing football after Thanksgiving!

  Tiki looked over to where the happy Eagles’ linemen were hoisting Adam onto their shoulders. Tiki shook his head and laughed.

  “Look at that!” he told Ronde, who’d come over to give him a big bear hug. “That Costa is one lucky dude. He could have been the goat—easy.”

  “Yeah,” agreed Ronde with a big grin. “And you and me along with him, if he’d failed those tests. Oh, well. I guess that’s how the football bounces!”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  THE HAPPY RECAP

  * * *

  THEY WERE A BUNCH OF MUD-COATED FILTHY SOGGY but oh-so-happy Eagles as they slogged back into the locker room. Ronde felt almost dizzy, and he couldn’t stop whooping at the top of his lungs along with all the rest of them.

  Hugs were exchanged all around, as well as elaborate handshakes, high fives, low fives, and all the fives in between. Helmets butted helmets, locker doors got drummed on, and the level of noise was enough to make Ronde cover his ears.

  It was almost impossible to believe. How in the world, he wondered, had the Eagles managed to sneak into the play-offs after blowing those three games?

  Yet here they were. Their season was not over, and with any luck it might last all the way to Christmas vacation!

  Coach Wheeler came in from the field, along with defensive coach Pete Pellugi and offensive coach Steve Ontkos. Everyone cheered, and started chanting, “Coach! Coach! Coach! Coach!”

  Wheeler held up his hands, grinning from ear to ear. “We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?”

  “Yeah!” everyone shouted.

  “And we’ve got a long way yet to go!”

  “WOO-HOO!”

  “But if we play like we can play, I’ll tell you this right now—there’s no reason we can’t wind up district champions—maybe even state champs!”

  “YEEEAAHHHHH!”

  “So let’s dare to dream, huh? Tomorrow we’re back at practice, and by the way—guess who our first opponent is?”