Tough to Tackle

by Matt Christopher

In the second quarter the Starbirds scored a touchdown on a twenty-yard pass from quarterback Jerry Malley to Charlie Haring. Charlie’s kick for the extra point was good. Apollos 12, Starbirds 7.

  The Starbirds kicked off. Bud caught the end-over-end boot and carried it to his twenty-six. In the first play he muffed the snap. A mad scramble for the ball followed, ending with the Starbirds in possession.

  Bud looked sick. “My fault,” he said.

  “Let’s get it back!” yelled Boots.

  The Starbirds went into a huddle, broke out of it, and the linemen hurried to the line of scrimmage. Boots looked Nick Sarino, his man, eye to eye.

  “Forty-two! Thirty-eight! Seventeen! Hike!” barked Jerry Malley.

  Boots shoved Nick aside and bolted through the line. He hit Jerry as the quarterback started to fade back. Jerry went down and the ball slipped from his hands. It bounced, Boots caught it, pulled it against his chest, and started to run.

  A halfback sprang at him. Boots stiff-armed him, dug his cleats hard into the turf, and ran on. He crossed the fifty … the forty-five … the forty … the thirty-five …

  Finally — TOUCHDOWN!

  Cheers exploded from the stands. Hands slapped Boots on the back. “Great play, Boots!” yelled Bud.

  “Talk about surprises!” cried Duck, pumping his hand. “That one beats ’em all!”

  The Apollos went on to win, 36 to 21.

  That night Boots wrote a long letter to Tom.

  Dear Tom,

  We played the Starbirds this afternoon and gave them a real working over. We beat them 36 to 21 and can you believe it? I made a touchdown! I busted through the line and hit Jerry Malley, the quarterback. He dropped the ball and I picked it up and ran. It was something like a sixty-three-yard run. I never dreamed I’d ever make a touchdown, Tom. But I did.

  You know, I owe almost everything to you for making me stick it out as a tackle. I really like it now. It’s fun blasting through the line to get after the quarterback or whoever carries the ball. Guess who had the most tackles today? Well, I suppose you can guess after I asked you that silly question.

  Anyway, your letters made me see a lot of things about playing tackle that I wouldn’t have seen otherwise. Duck Farrell told me a few things, too, that put some sense into my head. He’s a good guy, and so are Bud Davis, Leo Conway, and Richie Powell. Heck, they’re all pretty good guys once you get to know them.

  We’re playing the Argonauts next Saturday. It’s our last game. So far we’ve lost two and won three. I’ll let you know what happens.

  Take care. And please write.

  Love,

  Boots

  A week later Boots was leaving for the big game against the Argonauts when the phone rang. Gail ran to answer it. When she came back her face was flushed and her eyes white-rimmed as they darted from Dad to Mom.

  “Who was it?” asked Dad.

  “The post office,” she said. “There’s a special delivery letter for Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Raymond. The man wants to know whether you want to pick it up or have them deliver it on Monday.”

  Mom and Dad looked at each other. “Tell them I’ll pick it up,” Dad decided.

  Boots tried to read the anxious look on Dad’s face. Was that letter from Tom? Or was it about him?

  He glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. One o’clock. He had to go or he’d be late. “See you later,” he said, and left.

  The Argonauts were leading the league. They had won three games, lost one and tied one. The Apollos had to win today or finish in second place.

  The Argonauts won the toss and chose to receive. Leo Conway’s kick was a good one. Lynn Giles, the Argonauts’ fast quarterback and safety man, caught the ball and carried it to their forty-two.

  The Argonauts huddled, then broke out of it, and Boots found himself facing his opponent, Curly Hines. Lynn barked signals, the ball was snapped, and Curly threw himself to Boots’s right side. Boots lost his balance, realizing instantly that Curly meant to open a hole there for the ball carrier. Boots saw Smokey Mills, the fullback, grab the handoff from Lynn and head for the hole.

  Boots dug his cleats into the hard ground and surged toward Smokey. His padded shoulders shoved Curly aside and he reached out as Smokey came forward. He hit Smokey and drove him back beyond the line of scrimmage. The whistle shrilled. Smokey tossed the ball to the ref, who spotted it at the point where Smokey had gone the farthest. A gain of a yard.

  Boots grinned at Curly. “You’re getting better, Curly. You almost knocked me for a loop.”

  “Oh, sure,” grumbled Curly.

  The next play was a rush through the other side of the line. Boots brushed by Curly and cut in front of the quarterback, his heels clawing up dirt as he swung his body to the left. He went after Smokey like a small tank and reached the fullback about the same time that Leo Conway, playing linebacker, did. The two brought Smokey down, but the rugged Argonaut had gained three yards on the play.

  Third and six. This time Lynn pulled a double reverse and it worked for a first down. Lynn kept the plays on the ground — no passes — and moved his team forward like a machine.

  “C’mon, men!” shouted Bud exasperatingly. “Are we going to let them do this all day?”

  The Argonauts reached the Apollos’ thirty-two when they were finally stopped. Two running plays, one a try through Boots’s side and the other an end-around, netted them a loss of two yards.

  “Watch for a pass,” Bud warned.

  Bud’s guess was right. Lynn faked a handoff to Smokey, then faded back and shot a bullet pass to his right halfback. The pass was good. The receiver carried it to the Apollos’ eighteen where Bud Davis nailed him.

  Smokey tried a run through right tackle — his right — and picked up four yards. On the second down the Argonaut center snapped a poor pass to Lynn. Lynn fumbled the ball. Boots saw it rolling loose and dived for it. At the same time he saw Curly diving for it, too. Boots fell on the ball first, covering it with his chest. Curly fell on top of him, followed by two other Argonauts, and Boots felt as though he were being buried. From a distance he heard the shrieking blast of the whistle. One by one the guys got off him.

  He rose to his feet, feeling good all over.

  “Nice going, Boots.” Bud smiled and swatted him on his rear. “Now let’s move it the other way.”

  14

  The ball was spotted on the Apollos’ nineteen. “Thirty-eight,” said Bud in the huddle. “I’ll fake a handoff to Jackie running left. Let’s go.”

  The players broke from the huddle and formed at the line of scrimmage. “Down!” shouted Bud. “Twenty-four! Eighteen! Hut! Hut! Hut!”

  The snap. Boots blocked Curly Hines and threw himself partly in front of a linebacker who came charging through the line. He stopped Curly cold, but the linebacker recovered his balance, backed away, and then tried to circle around him.

  Boots got to his knees and threw himself in front of the man, a perfect block. A smile flickered on the tackle’s face as he saw Duck throwing a block on the Argonaut end and Leo carrying the ball through the wide hole. The fullback raced twelve yards before the safety man pulled him down.

  “Nice going, men!” cried Bud. “Boots! Duck! Beautiful blocking, you guys!”

  First and ten. “Let’s try it again,” he said in the huddle. “They won’t expect it.”

  Whether the Argonauts expected it or not the play worked like a charm, though for nine yards this time.

  The Apollos picked up a first down and moved the ball to midfield when the horn blew, announcing the end of the first quarter. The teams exchanged goals. Bud’s first call was thirty-eight again. This time the play worked perfectly. Duck blocked the Argonaut, giving Leo time to squirt through the wide hole, then the fleet-footed halfback raced ahead and blocked the safety man just enough to keep him from getting his hands on Leo, and Leo went all the way. He then kicked the extra point and the Apollos led, 7 to 0.

  The Argonauts carried the kickoff back to th
eir thirty-one and Lynn Giles’s first play was a pass to his left end. The end went all the way to the Apollos’ nine where Bud tackled him. Two plays later Lynn threw a pass into the end zone. Smokey caught it to put the Argonauts on the scoreboard. Smokey then kicked the extra point to tie it up. 7 to 7.

  During halftime Boots thought about the special delivery letter. Was it from Tom? If not, did it concern him? Boots looked for Mom, Dad, and Gail in the stands, but the crowd was so thick he couldn’t see them.

  Two minutes after the third quarter started, Lynn Giles heaved another long spiraling pass to his left end. This time the end went all the way. Smokey kicked for the extra point. It wasn’t good. Argonauts 13, Apollos 7.

  Leo returned the kickoff to his twenty-eight. Just as he was hit the ball squirted out of his hands and an Argonaut recovered it.

  “What’s wrong with us?” exclaimed Bud. “We start off great, then all at once we fall apart.”

  “We’ve just got to play harder,” said Boots. “These Argonauts are up to beat us. Do you see what their best play is?”

  “Long passes,” said Duck.

  “Right. We stop those and we’ll have them licked.”

  Bud nodded. “Jackie, stick closer to that left end. We have to double-team him. He’s good.”

  The Argonauts’ first play was an end-around run that got them nowhere. Smokey tried a line buck and got nowhere. Then Lynn faked a handoff to Smokey and faded back to pass. Boots brushed Curly aside, dodged past a linebacker, and went after the quarterback. Lynn seemed to have trouble finding a receiver. He saw Boots charging after him. He tried to get away, but Boots grabbed his jersey, pulled, and then wrapped his arms around the quarterback and nailed him for a heavy loss.

  Fourth and twenty-two. The Argonauts went into a punt formation. Lynn waited for the snap from center while Smokey stood back in kicking position. The snap. Lynn got the ball. Then he stood up and shot a quick pass to his left end!

  Suddenly a blue and white uniform swooped toward the ball. A pair of hands reached out and grabbed the pass. In the same motion the player started running in the opposite direction. He had an open field. He went all the way. Boots didn’t know what had happened until he heard the fans shouting and saw Jackie Preston touching the football to the ground in the end zone.

  Bud shot a quick forward pass for the extra point and it was Argonauts 13, Apollos 14.

  In the fourth quarter Boots nailed Lynn again for an eight-yard loss. At another time he caused Lynn to fumble the ball which was recovered by Richie Powell, the right guard.

  The Apollos moved ahead like a steamroller. And then Bud faked a handoff to Leo and Leo faded back and threw a long bomb to Duck that nailed the coffin on the Argonauts. Duck went over for the touchdown. Leo’s kick missed, and the score stayed at 20 to 13, Apollos’ favor. The Argonauts had the ball on the Apollos’ twenty-six when the final whistle blew.

  “We’re champs!” yelled Duck, jumping around like a clown and throwing his helmet into the air.

  Then they all threw their helmets into the air and started to jump and yell and whoop. Bo Higgins and Coach Dekay ran out to the field and praised the boys and then went over to shake hands with the losing coaches.

  “Boots, you did great,” said Bud Davis, a broad grin on his sweaty, dirty face.

  Boots smiled. “Thanks, Bud. Guess we all did.”

  Someone grabbed his arm. “Boots!” cried Gail, her eyes wide as bottle caps. “Come on! We’ve heard from Tom!”

  He stared at her. “You — you mean that letter?”

  “Yes!”

  He ran off the field, her hand still clinging to his arm. Mom and Dad were waiting at the sideline, smiling happily. Dad handed him the letter. “Read it,” he said.

  Boots’s hand trembled as he held the letter and read:

  Dear Mom, Dad, Gail, and Boots,

  I’ve been very busy these last couple of weeks, which is why you haven’t heard from me. I was really in the thick of it. But I’m back now and I’m okay, so don’t worry.

  I used to get very lonely and discouraged. I don’t know what I would have done if it hadn’t been for your letters coming to me almost every day.

  I am especially grateful to Boots for his letters. I think that we had our own private mutual determination society going between us. I told him to stick with football, and he did. And his letters have helped me to see my way through here, too — as much as yours did, Mom, Dad, and Gail — because I think that both he and I have shared a common experience. Neither one of us enjoyed doing a job we were asked to do. But we did it because it was necessary.

  Take care, and don’t stop writing.

  Love,

  Tom

  A sense of relief filled Boots as he handed the letter back to his father.

  “Well, we can relax now,” said Dad, smiling. “Tom’s okay.”

  Boots nodded. “I suppose that when he comes home he won’t want to wrestle with me anymore,” he said.

  Dad chuckled. “Don’t be too sure about that. You’ve come a long way, too, you know.”

  FINAL STANDINGS

  WON LOST TIED

  Apollos 4 2 0

  Argonauts 3 2 1

  Starbirds 3 3 0

  Flyers 0 5 1

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  TOUGH TO TACKLE

  It’s time to dig in. …

  More than anything Boots Raymond wants to be a quarterback for the Apollos. But because of his size, the coach assigns him to a tackle position — and there’s no arguing with the coach. Boots rebels and almost quits the t
eam. It seems that nothing can change his mind, but his brother Tom intercepts and teaches Boots something valuable he learned from playing football and being a soldier.

  Matt Christopher is the name young readers turn to when they’re looking for fast-paced, action-packed sports novels. For other exciting football novels, check out:

  For a complete list of all Matt Christopher titles, please turn to the last pages of this book.

  * Previously published as Crackerjack Halfback

  ** Previously published as Pressure Play

  *** Previously published as Baseball Pals