by Ronde Barber
“Masters of disguise!” said Joey Gallagher.
“I’m telling you,” Ronde said, “you all should check it out. You’ll play better if you do.”
“Sounds good to me,” said Adam. “Count me in.”
“Me too,” said Matthew Schulz, the middle linebacker.
Soon, all but a few of the players were on board. When Coach Wheeler walked in, having tended to Sam Scarfone’s ankle, he was shocked to see his players were still in uniform.
“What’s going on, men?”
“We’ve been having a little team meeting,” Tiki explained. “Right, guys?”
“Right!”
Cody made a face, went to his locker, and started changing, ignoring the rest of them.
That’s when Tiki knew the battle wasn’t over, that he and Coach Wheeler still had their work cut out for them. Sure, most of the team was now on board. But if the quarterback and the coach couldn’t figure out a way to work together—and fast—in the long run, the Eagles were doomed to fail.
CHAPTER NINE
REVERSAL OF FORTUNE
* * *
RONDE FELT LIKE A HUGE WEIGHT HAD COME OFF HIS shoulders. He was surprised that none of the other kids were mad at him for faking them out by pretending to be Tiki.
In fact, they all seemed impressed that the twins could pull it off. So impressed that they were willing to cut him and Tiki plenty of slack.
Still, it felt good to get the secret off his chest. Ronde wasn’t accustomed to not telling the truth.
At the next video session, Mr. Wheeler showed them Matt Clayton’s tape of their next opponent, the Rockets of North Side Junior High.
This time, the room was packed with players. Only Cody, Sam Scarfone, and a few others had stayed away.
“Okay,” Mr. Wheeler began. “This is more like it. Yes sir, this is the kind of turnout we need to make us a real team, not just a bunch of players wearing the same uniform!”
He rubbed his hands together excitedly. “Now, North Side’s strength is their defense, so let’s begin with that. . . .”
The session went on for almost two hours. But when it was over, every player in the room had at least one thing to take away that would make him a better player in the upcoming game.
For Ronde, the key was to force his man to the outside as often as possible. Mr. Wheeler pointed out how the receiver had trouble catching balls and still landing inbounds.
“Too bad Cody wasn’t here to see this,” said Ronde afterward.
“Yeah,” Tiki agreed. “He might have learned something.”
“Gang, before we break this up, I’d like you to all gather around in a circle,” said Coach Wheeler.
Ronde saw some of the boys casting doubtful looks at each other, but they all formed the circle anyway.
“Now join hands and close your eyes,” Wheeler told them.
Ronde looked around to see who was shutting his eyes and who wasn’t—it was only about fifty-fifty. Finally, he closed his own, figuring he might as well give Wheeler’s methods a fair shake.
“I want you all to see us on the field, taking the game to North Side, dominating them from the first minute on . . . can you see it?”
A few boys muttered, “Uh-huh,” or “Yes.” But most didn’t say anything. Ronde nodded his head but kept his mouth shut.
“I’m going to make a prediction right now,” Coach Wheeler said. “This will be the game that defines our season. If we can play as a team, I believe we will prevail. Are you all with me?”
“Yeah!” a lot of the boys said.
“I can’t hear you!”
“YEAH!” they all shouted this time.
“That’s better. Now answer me this—who’s the best team on the field?”
“WE ARE!”
“Who’s got game?”
“WE DO!”
“Who’s gonna play smart?”
“WE ARE!”
“That’s what I’m talking about!” Wheeler said. “That’s what I want to hear! And that’s what I expect to see tomorrow night, out on the field!”
Tiki and Ronde left the locker room floating on air. On their way to the late bus, Cody caught up to them.
“So? How’d it go?” he wanted to know. “Pretty lame, huh?”
“Man, you missed it,” Tiki said. “It was awesome!”
“It was,” Ronde agreed. “You should have been there.”
“Hey, I’m a leader, not a follower,” Cody shot back. “That’s why I’m the quarterback. I don’t need any of that mental stuff to do my thing. I’m gonna let my arm do the talking tomorrow night.”
They reached the bus, and Cody waved to his mom, who was waiting for him in a big black SUV. No rides on the late bus for Cody, thought Ronde.
“I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Cody said. “Just one word of advice—especially you, Tiki. Don’t let all that ‘mental game’ stuff mess up your mind, or you’ll wind up choking in the clutch. Just get out there and follow my lead, and we’ll mess up North Side big-time.”
He walked away, and the brothers boarded the bus. “Man,” said Ronde, “he sure thinks a lot of himself.”
“I know,” Tiki agreed. “I hope he still does after tomorrow. Because if he doesn’t, it’ll mean he played really bad, and if he plays really bad, we lose.”
• • •
The Eagles had North Side off balance from the start. Coach Wheeler had shown Ronde how to lateral the opening kickoff to Fred Soule. When he did, the onrushing Rockets found themselves overcommitted to tackling Ronde. Fred scampered free and set the Eagles up with a first down at the Rocket twenty-four.
But that was when Cody got to work. Not having seen the videotape, he didn’t know that throwing passes up the middle meant that he was playing right into North Side’s hands.
That was where their best players, the middle linebacker and the free safety, were positioned. The linebacker batted down Cody’s first pass, and the free safety intercepted his second one in the end zone for a touchback.
Luckily, the Rockets’ offense wasn’t all that strong, and the Eagles’ defense was well prepared for their two or three breakout-type players. They managed to stop the Rockets in their own territory and force a punt.
This time, Ronde faked the lateral, then tucked the ball in and spun around to the weak side. Sure enough, the Rockets, always overeager, went for the fake, leaving Ronde free.
He sprinted down the sideline, leaving the Rockets behind, and made it all the way into the end zone for the Eagles’ first touchdown!
All over the field that first half, the Eagles were one step ahead of their opponents—except for Cody, Scarfone, and the few other holdouts who’d stayed away from Coach Wheeler’s video sessions.
By the end of the half, Cody had already racked up three interceptions and was only four for fifteen in completions. The score was 21–14, Eagles, with two of their touchdowns scored by the defense.
The Rockets’ two touchdowns had come on short drives, set up by interceptions.
In the locker room at halftime, Coach Wheeler came over to Cody, who was toweling off next to Tiki and Ronde.
“Hansen,” Wheeler said.
“What?”
“This half, for as long as we’re ahead, we’re going to feature the running game, and eat up the clock.”
“Why, because of the interceptions?” Cody asked, annoyed. “Don’t blame me for those—Fred and Joey can’t hold on to the ball!”
Fred and Joey were both standing nearby. They looked at each other, then at Coach Wheeler, to see if he would stand for Cody’s trashing them.
He didn’t. “Hansen, I’m telling you right now, this kind of stuff has got to stop. The next time I hear it, you’re heading for the bench, understand?”
Cody seemed like he was about to argue, but he must have thought better of it. “Whatever,” he muttered.
“Not whatever,” said Wheeler. “It’s ‘yes, Coach.’”
“Yes, Coach,” Cody
said, rolling his eyes.
“Now, look,” the coach went on, addressing the whole team now. “We’re playing a pretty good game overall. But don’t think North Side is going to lay down and die, because they’re not, I promise you. Everybody stay alert, and take care of your own assignments. No improvising!” He shot one more look at Cody. “Is that clear?”
“Yes, Coach!” everyone said. Cody moved his lips like he was saying it, but Ronde could see his heart wasn’t in it. He wondered if Cody really would stick to the coach’s game plan—and if he didn’t, what the coach would do about it.
• • •
Right away, it was clear that Wheeler was right—North Side’s coach had made some key changes at halftime. A lot of the tricks the Eagles had used to throw them off balance in the first half weren’t working anymore.
On the Eagles’ first drive, they notched two quick first downs on runs by Tiki, putting the Eagles close to midfield.
Coach Wheeler sent in the next play—another run, but this time for Joey Gallagher coming around end.
But to everyone’s surprise, when it came time to hand the ball to Joey, Cody kept it himself! He headed downfield but was quickly blindsided by North Side’s defensive end—and coughed up the ball for a fumble!
Cody got up slowly, brushing himself off. He turned on his own blockers in fury. “Hit somebody, for Pete’s sake!” he shouted as they came off the field. “I’m getting killed here!”
His blockers stared after him, not saying anything. But as they got to the sidelines, Ronde could see them all shaking their heads. They were all much bigger than Cody, but none of them was brave enough to stand up to him.
Cody was mad, all right. Steaming mad. And he got even madder when, on first down, North Side ran a trick play—a flea-flicker that resulted in a touchdown that tied the game at 21–all!
It was Sam Scarfone who had missed the key tackle on the play. Sam, like Cody, had skipped Coach Wheeler’s video sessions. If he’d been there, Ronde thought, he would have seen North Side’s flea-flicker and known how to stop it. Because he’d missed the sessions, he was caught flat-footed.
Ronde knew that Sam was best friends with Cody and had chosen loyalty to his friend over what was best for the team—going to the video sessions like all the rest of them.
Ronde jogged onto the field and took the kickoff, but he didn’t get far. North Side must have gone to school on his moves during halftime, because they were ready for him when he spun around and changed direction—and they nailed him at the twenty-five yard line.
Ronde ran back to the sidelines and was headed for the bench when he passed Cody, who was getting up and strapping on his helmet.
Just then, Coach Wheeler approached Cody. “Hansen!” he barked. “Stay right here.”
“Huh?”
“I’m putting Manny in for this series.”
“No way!” Cody protested. “You’re taking me out for a rookie?”
“I want you to sit here and think about things,” Wheeler said.
“Think about what?” Cody shot back. “About how our whole season’s about to go down the drain?”
Ronde’s jaw dropped. He couldn’t believe Cody had just talked back to the head coach like that!
“Think whatever you want,” Wheeler said. “But when you ignore the plays I’ve sent in, that’s the last straw.”
“I’m sorry, okay?” Cody backed down. “I’ll run the plays like you call them.”
“Not till I put you back in there, you won’t,” Coach Wheeler said, holding firm. “In the meantime, sit here, root for your teammates, and think about why I took you out of the game.”
With that, Wheeler turned to Manny. “Okay, Alvaro—get in there and play some football!”
Manny, who had played only a couple of downs so far this whole season, could not contain his excitement. Clapping his hands together and jumping up and down, he yelled, “Okay, okay, okay—let’s go, Eagles!” He darted out onto the field, so fast that the rest of the offense had to run full speed to catch up to him.
Cody threw his helmet to the ground and stamped his feet, but he could only watch as Manny, the seventh-grade rookie, proceeded to hand the ball off to Tiki.
Tiki ran behind Paco, straight at the North Side left tackle—just as Coach Wheeler had shown him on the tape. The left tackle was the big weak spot on the Rockets’ defensive line, and he was flat on his back after Paco’s big hit.
Tiki sprinted by, running straight down the middle of the field and taking it all the way into the end zone!
Everyone cheered, jumping up and down. Everyone, that is, except for Cody, who sat there sulking, angry that he wasn’t a part of it.
On the Eagles’ next possession, Manny guided them down the field, with Coach Wheeler mixing runs and passes to keep North Side’s defense off balance. They got all the way down into the red zone—but then Manny overthrew Fred Soule in the end zone on third down.
“That’s okay, Manny,” Coach Wheeler said to the rookie quarterback as he came back to the bench, clearly upset. “Don’t worry about it. Everyone makes mistakes. Next time you’ll get ’em!” He patted Manny on the shoulder.
The rookie nodded, feeling a little better, and took a seat.
“Man!” Cody muttered, stamping his feet as he paced at the far end of the bench near Ronde. “If I was in there, we’d have had that touchdown!”
Ronde didn’t say what he wanted to say—that Cody already had three interceptions and a fumble today and had no right to moan and groan about Manny’s mistakes. Besides, they were up ten points now, and Manny had done a pretty good job, all things considered.
Everybody knew Cody was talented. You could see he had a fantastic arm and was big and strong to boot. But his accuracy disappeared whenever he was upset—and he got upset a lot!
Adam’s fourth down field goal made the score 31–21, Eagles. But North Side, always a good team in years past, still had a few aces left to play. They turned a botched handoff into a touchdown pass, thrown right over the Eagles’ other cornerback, Matthew Schulz’s little brother, Andrew.
Luckily, time ran out before North Side could get their hands on the ball again.
“Thank goodness!” Tiki breathed when the gun finally sounded. “At least our season is still alive.”
“Yeah,” Ronde agreed sullenly. “But for how long? If this team doesn’t get its act together fast, we’re gonna lose another game—and that’ll be the end of our season.”
Tiki knew it was true, even though none of them had ever said so out loud before. If the Eagles lost one more game, that would make three. No team with three losses had made it into the playoffs in the past ten years.
They were two and two now. A record of ten and two would do the trick. Anything less, and they might be watching the playoffs as spectators. And with their number one quarterback riding the bench for bad behavior, what chance did they really have to go through the rest of the season undefeated?
“This can’t go on any longer,” Tiki said. “We’ve got to do something about it.”
“Who, us?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know,” said Tiki, “but we’d better think of something fast if we want to save our season.”
CHAPTER TEN
COACHING THE COACH
* * *
“MOM, CAN’T WE PLEASE STOP AT KESSLER’S?” RONDE begged, tugging at her sleeve. “I’m hungry!”
“And I’m tired of shopping,” Tiki moaned. “It’s been two hours already. Come on, Mom, we need a break!”
Mrs. Barber laughed and said, “You boys are outgrowing all your clothes—you need to go shopping!”
It was true, Ronde knew. Both he and Tiki were finally starting to hit their growth spurt. They were still two of the smaller kids on the team, but not for much longer. . . .
“We’ve been lugging these shopping bags all over downtown,” Ronde protested. “Our arms are tired!”
“You’ve got no problem lifting weights with the football team, but shopping bags are too much for you, huh?” Mrs. Barber said, her hands on her hips. “Oh, all right. Tell you the truth, I’m getting kind of hungry too.”
“YES!” both boys shouted, and they ran down the street to everyone’s favorite lunch and ice cream place.
It was two o’clock on a Saturday afternoon, and Kessler’s was just about full. The Barbers had to weave their way, shopping bags and all, between the tables to the far corner, where they were seated and given menus.
“Mom, see over there?” Tiki said, pointing across the restaurant to the lunch counter. “There’s Coach Wheeler!”
“Where?”
“Right over there—see?”
“Oh, yes—my, my, he really looks like an Eagle, doesn’t he? Just perfect for the team!” She looked at her sons. “Well, aren’t you boys going to go over there and say hello?”
Tiki and Ronde got up and approached Mr. Wheeler, who was sitting alone at the counter, eating a sandwich.
“Hey, Coach,” they greeted him.
“Oh, hi, guys,” he said. “How’s everything going?”
“Well, uh . . .” Ronde shot Tiki a quick look and knew that Tiki was thinking the same thing. “We’re kind of worried, actually.”
“I see,” said Wheeler, nodding. “I know what’s bothering you. It’s Cody Hansen, isn’t it?”
Ronde nodded. “Coach, if we lose one more game, we might not make the playoffs. And we aren’t even playing like a team!”
“You think I shouldn’t have gone with the new kid—Manny?” Wheeler asked.
“No, that was the right move,” Tiki said.
“Yeah, Cody deserved it. But . . .”
“But what?” Wheeler asked.
“But . . . I mean, Manny’s good and all . . . I mean, he’s gonna be good someday, but . . .”
“You think our only chance is to get Cody straight. Right?”
“That’s it!” Tiki said, grateful that Coach Wheeler had spelled it out for him.
“You think Coach Spangler would put him back in next week?”