Undercover Tailback

by Matt Christopher

  “How’d you figure that out?” asked Cris.

  “Never mind,” said Parker.

  “Oh, for crying out loud,” said Spike. “This is just another one of Parker’s stories.”

  “Yeah, Tall-Tale Nolan strikes again,” added Fabian. “Come on, let’s play ball.”

  “Okay, we’ll go with Thirty-two Red,” said Spike. “Let’s see if Parker can block as well as he talks.”

  The new version of the old Thirty-two Grind called for a fake to Parker then a pass to Moose Brogan.

  Spike crouched down behind Huey.

  “Three! Zero! Two! Hike!” he yelled.

  Before he could take two steps backward, the Piranhas had broken through the line. The play collapsed in a jumble of bodies with Spike and the ball on the bottom.

  The Kudzus’ quarterback brushed off the dirt.

  With the rest of the offense gathered around, he announced, “We’d better keep it on the ground. Fabe, we’ll go with Super Seventy-six.”

  This was Coach Isaac’s version of an old Statue of Liberty play. Spike would raise his arm high, as if he were getting ready to pass. Fabe would sweep by him, grab the ball, and then run for it.

  For the play to work, though, Fabian had to make his block and then move fast.

  They’d gone over it again and again in practice. And even after the Kudzus’ own defense had figured out the play, somehow it usually worked.

  This time it didn’t.

  The minute Spike called the signals, the Piranhas broke through the line. They were all over Fabian in seconds.

  Spike had kept his wits about him. He decided to try to run with the ball, but half the Piranhas’ defense was ready for him. They brought him down for a loss of five.

  Third and fifteen.

  After another failure to put a runner through the Piranhas’ line, the Kudzus were forced to give up the ball.

  As the defense took over, Parker trotted off the field.

  “What’s with those pictures, Parker?” Moose asked. “You going to let us see them?”

  “Why should I?” said Parker. “You guys think you know everything.”

  A few of the other guys asked him about the yellow envelope. Huey said he ought to “put up or shut up” about his claim that they were pictures of the Kudzus’ plays.

  “Let’s just watch the game, okay?” Parker said, turning his attention to the field.

  The Piranhas’ quarterback threw a screen pass to his tight end. But a Kudzu linebacker cut him down the minute he started to run. The impact shook the ball loose, and a Kudzu fell on it.

  The turnover sent the Kudzus’ offense right back onto the field.

  The ball was on the Piranhas’ thirty-five yard line.

  “What a lucky break!” yelled Rook Stubbs. “Okay, you guys, go for it!”

  “Parker? Fabian?” barked Spike in the huddle. “Are you guys ready to play some ball? We’re going to keep it on the ground. You’ll have your work cut out for you.”

  “Just try me,” said Parker.

  “Me, too!” said the burly fullback.

  “Okay, first let’s try an end-around. Number Seventy-two.”

  This was Fabian’s play, and he made the most of it. Even though the Piranhas moved in on him, he managed to break through for a gain of five yards.

  It was all the yardage the Kudzus got. At everyone of the following plays, they were stopped cold.

  “Rats! That defense is reading us like See Spot Run,” snarled Cris as they came off the field.

  “Yeah, only this Spot isn’t doing much running,” grumbled Moose.

  Parker just shook his head.

  The Piranhas got their own lucky break on the very first down. The quarterback passed to his wide receiver deep in Kudzu territory, but the ball squirted out of his hands. It bounced behind him toward the goal line. The Piranhas’ tight end was in the right place at the right time. He picked it up just inside the five-yard marker. A little screen pass put the Piranhas on the scoreboard.

  The kick for the extra point was good. With the clock signaling the end of the first period, the score was Piranhas 7, Kudzus 0.

  When the offense took over, Parker spoke up.

  “Listen, you guys,” he said. “We can’t keep running these plays. They know them. I’m telling you, they know our signals.”

  “So what do you expect us to do?” asked Cris. “Make up new plays?”

  “No, just change signals,” said Parker.

  “Like the pros?” asked Moose. “We’ve never practiced that kind of thing.”

  “We can do it,” Parker insisted. “We can.”

  He quickly outlined a simple plan. They would make the changes one play at a time.

  “Don’t I have something to say?” snapped Spike. “We can’t do it. It’s going to be too hard to remember.”

  “I think we ought to give it a try,” said Fabian. “I’m tired of banging my head against a wall.”

  “I think it’s a good idea,” said Morris Comer, the usually silent left guard. “We have to do something.”

  Spike hemmed and hawed.

  Tripp, too, seemed doubtful.

  But in the end, those who agreed with Parker were louder and stronger than those opposed. The doubters finally had to go along with the idea.

  The first time they tried it, Spike messed up the signal. An offside penalty was called against the Kudzus.

  “See, it isn’t going to work,” he said.

  “Come on, Spike,” said Cris. “Give it a fair shot.”

  They tried it again. And again, there was confusion. But this time, both sides got things mixed up — and it turned out well for the Kudzus. They gained seven yards.

  “Maybe that’s the way. Just keep messing up and see what happens,” joked Fabian back in the huddle.

  “No, we have to get it straight,” insisted Parker.

  Once more they tried the last-minute switch.

  This time it worked like a precision engine.

  Spike had more time to position himself. His pass to Cris was right on the mark. Cris was all by himself. Before he was brought down by a Piranha safety, he had gained twenty-five yards.

  The Kudzu offense was in Piranha territory for the first time that day.

  12

  The guys on the bench were jumping up and down with excitement.

  It carried over to the field.

  By switching signals at the last minute, the offense stormed down the gridiron. In just four quick plays, they crossed into the end zone for their first score.

  The talented toe of Huey Walker made the conversion good.

  The scoreboard now read: Piranhas 7, Kudzus 7.

  The kick to the Piranhas wasn’t that great, but it kept them in their own territory.

  “Okay, defense, it’s your turn!” shouted Coach Isaac. “Spike, get some rest.” Then, in the next breath, he asked Spike, “What’s going on out there?”

  Spike explained the change.

  “I never would have figured you guys could do it,” said the coach. “But I’m glad it’s working. Might as well keep it up.”

  Meanwhile, the Piranhas were in control of the ball.

  They were playing it a little safer. Their quarterback kept the ball on the ground as much as possible.

  Even though the Kudzus defense was fired up, the Piranhas managed to grind out yard after yard. After three first downs, they were within striking distance of the goal.

  But with ten to go on the Kudzus’ thirty, they tried a draw play that misfired.

  The Kudzus defense broke through for the blitz and a seven-yard loss.

  The next play produced even worse results for the Piranhas. A pass to their wide receiver was intercepted by Ned Bushmiller. The Kudzu safety ran with it until he was forced offside on the enemy’s forty yard line.

  The crowd went wild.

  The offense grabbed their helmets and rushed onto the field. Biting cold wind and frost on the hard ground meant nothing. Th
ey could smell a chance at victory.

  There was no question about what the Kudzu offense had to do. It would be Parker’s system, one play at a time.

  If the Piranhas got wise, they could always shift back to their regular signals.

  They didn’t have to.

  On the very first play, Spike slipped the ball into Fabian’s hands. The waiting fullback sprung forward. At the line, Tripp Collins and Darren Shultz had opened a big hole for him. He sped through it into the Piranhas’ backfield, where he was brought down. It was a gain of eight yards.

  On the next play, Spike spun around and shoved the ball into Parker’s waiting hands. Parker raced toward Moose. The Kudzus’ tight end blocked his man and cleared the way for the charging tailback.

  It was all the daylight Parker needed. With lightning-quick moves, he wove his way through the few Piranhas left standing. He sped down-field and crossed the goal line.

  Stacy was the first to reach him. The wide receiver gave him a big hug. The rest of the team followed with slaps on the back, high fives, and cheers.

  They got into position for the conversion. Huey kicked a wobbler. It just made it into fair territory to put the Kudzus ahead, 14-7.

  But as the play cleared, Parker rolled over on the ground. He started to get up, then fell back, clutching his leg.

  Rook Stubbs ran onto the field with his black leather bag.

  “What’s the matter, Parker?” he asked.

  “It’s my ankle,” said Parker. “It hurts something awful.”

  He tried to get up, then groaned.

  “Just take it easy,” said Stubbs. He carefully felt around the area and asked a few questions.

  “I don’t think it’s broken. Probably just a bad sprain. Can’t really tell much out here,” he said. “We’d better get you off the field. Think you can make it with some help?”

  “I’ll … I’ll try.” Parker groaned.

  Stubbs waved over Tripp and Darren, who were standing nearby. They got on either side of Parker and boosted him up gently. Leaning on them, he hopped off the field on one leg.

  There was a big cheer from the crowd as he reached the bench. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Joni clapping her hands.

  “What do you think, Rook?” asked Coach Isaac.

  “Don’t really know yet,” said Stubbs. “Give me a few minutes.”

  The coach nodded and turned back to watch the action on the field.

  Rook gingerly removed the rubber-cleated shoe from Parker’s foot. Parker winced and clenched his fists.

  “Does that hurt?” asked Rook, poking just above the ankle.

  “A little,” said Parker. “But I’m really freezing, too.” He shuddered and shook. “The half’s almost over. Maybe … maybe we could go in and warm up.”

  “Yeah,” agreed Stubbs. “We could do that. I’ll get a couple of guys to give you a hand.”

  “No!” Parker hissed in a loud whisper. “I don’t want anyone to think I’m a wimp. I’m sure I can make it by myself if I just lean on you a little.”

  “Sure,” Stubbs said, nodding toward the team on the bench. “They’re all watching the game. No one will notice. We’ll take it real slow and easy.”

  Leaning on the sturdy trainer, Parker hopped off into the locker room.

  “Now, let’s take a good look at that ankle,” said Stubbs.

  “It’s really okay,” said Parker. “Look, I can stand on it.”

  “Careful!” shouted Stubbs. “You might do some damage.”

  “No, really,” said Parker. He jumped up and down on one foot, then the other.

  “That’s the fastest comeback I’ve ever seen,” said Stubbs, scratching his head. “Wait a minute! Parker, were you faking it?”

  “Yes, I was,” Parker admitted. “But, you see —”

  “Parker Nolan, I’m fed up with your —”

  “Please, Mr. Stubbs, this is no lie. I mean, there’s a reason I faked getting hurt. It’s for the good of the team, I swear. And I promise you, I’ll be able to explain everything if you just trust me. Besides, when they see me on my feet, everyone will think you’re a miracle worker,” said Parker. “All I ask is one favor, one tiny favor.”

  “I don’t care about credit for something I didn’t have anything to do with,” said Stubbs. He sighed. “Okay, Parker. Just tell me what’s on your mind.”

  “Well, uh, you know there’s been a lot of funny stuff going on lately,” said Parker.

  “What do you mean, ‘funny stuff’?” asked Stubbs.

  “I mean how we’ve been getting murdered out there by their defense. Seems like the last couple of games, they know our plays almost better than we do.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Parker. And on the other guys,” said Stubbs.

  “I mean it,” Parker insisted.

  He told Stubbs about seeing someone come out of the coach’s office with a camera and then run off.

  “That’s when we started losing so badly,” he pointed out. “Today, when we started changing signals at the line, you saw how it went.”

  Stubbs scratched his head.

  “You have a point there,” he admitted.

  “I also have a plan,” said Parker. “But there isn’t much time. All you have to do is stay behind that back row of lockers with me.”

  “That’s all? For how long? First half’s almost over. The guys’ll be pouring in here.”

  “It won’t be long,” said Parker.

  “I don’t know …,” Stubbs said, hesitating.

  “I promise — all we have to do is stay quiet back there for a few minutes.”

  “All right.” Stubbs sighed. “Here, let me give you a hand.”

  Without thinking, Parker started limping toward the locker.

  “Wait a second. You don’t need any help. There’s nothing wrong with your ankle!” scolded the trainer.

  “Whoops!” said Parker. “I almost forgot.”

  13

  As they huddled behind the last row of lockers, Parker and Stubbs could hear the field announcer.

  “Second and ten, the ball is on the Piranhas’ own forty.”

  “Third and eight.”

  “One minute left to go in the period.”

  “Penalty against the Kudzus. The Piranhas have an automatic first down.”

  There were just a few seconds remaining when the door to the locker room slammed open.

  Parker and Stubbs heard someone enter and stomp toward a locker.

  The locker door clanged open.

  “They’re still here!” boomed an angry voice.

  “Let’s go!” hissed Parker to Stubbs.

  The two of them rushed out from their hiding place.

  They came around the corner and saw Spike Newton holding a yellow FotoQuick envelope. He was scratching his head and staring at its contents.

  As soon as he saw Parker and Stubbs, Spike tried to stow the envelope back in his locker.

  But it was too late.

  “What’s the matter? ’Fraid to let anyone see your little pictures?” sneered Parker.

  “Let me just take a look there,” said Stubbs. He took the envelope from Spike and pulled out the contents.

  Just as Parker suspected, there were the photographs of the Kudzus’ plays.

  “What are you doing with these, Spike?” asked Stubbs.

  “I … I was having trouble remembering the plays, so … so I got these from the coach’s playbook,” the Kudzus’ quarterback stammered. “And what about you?” he suddenly snapped at Parker. “What’s in that envelope you dropped in the huddle?”

  Parker pulled the envelope out from under his pads. He handed it to Stubbs.

  The trainer removed its contents — a bunch of blank index cards.

  “You tricked me, you rat!” cried Spike. “I thought you had found my pictures. But it doesn’t mean anything. Like I said, I forgot my plays and —”

  A whistle blasted outside, followed by a loud roar.
>
  Then, with a clatter of cleats and slapping of pads, the Kudzus burst into the locker room.

  Coach Isaac spotted his quarterback, tailback, and trainer. “What’s going on here?” he asked. “Is this a private huddle?”

  Spike began to protest his innocence, but Stubbs stopped him. He told the story he had put together from what Parker had said and what he had seen with his own eyes. “You be the judge, Coach,” he finished.

  There was silence in the locker room. Everyone had quieted down. They were all listening to hear what the coach would say.

  “No,” Coach Isaac replied. “I’m not going to make any judgments. I’m going to ask one question.”

  He stared Spike straight in the eye. The quarterback hunched his shoulders and bent his head down.

  Very softly, the coach asked, “Spike, did you take pictures of my playbook and do something wrong with them?”

  So quietly that you could hardly tell that he had spoken, Spike answered after a pause, “Yes, sir.

  “Thank you for telling me the truth, Spike,” the coach went on. “Now, can you tell me what you did with the pictures?”

  “I … I loaned them,” said Spike. “To some other teams.”

  “Other teams?”

  “You know — the Leopards, the Piranhas.”

  “And what do you mean ‘loaned’ them?”

  “I let them borrow them and make copies. And then they gave them back.”

  Coach Isaac sighed a deep sigh.

  “Why did you ‘loan’ our plays to our opponents, Spike?”

  It seemed like forever before the red-faced quarterback replied.

  “They gave me money for them.”

  “So, you sold our plays,” said the coach.

  “Yes, sir,” said Spike. “I … I needed money, for lunch and stuff. My dad got laid off, and my family doesn’t have much money. …”

  Spike wasn’t the only one staring down at the floor now. The other Kudzus felt pretty bad hearing his story.

  He went on. “Then one of the guys on the Leopards bumped into me and offered me a lot of money if I could get copies of our plays for them to see. He even gave me this little camera. It’s in my regular locker upstairs.”