Long Arm Quarterback

by Matt Christopher

  The happiest moment of the day came when Hoot tried to kick field goals through a pair of makeshift goalposts that Tully had had put up. Cap and Jimmy took turns as the holder.

  Hoot's first try, from twenty yards away, flew way off to the right. He was kicking the old-fashioned way, approaching the ball straight on rather than soccer-style, from the side.

  “Don't look up before you kick,” Tully said. “I guarantee you, the goalposts won't move. Look at where you want the ball to go before the snap, then keep your head down. Don't worry about rushers—your blockers will keep them away, so don't get distracted.”

  Hoot's next kick sailed through the uprights, with yards to spare.

  Tully and Sable clapped and the others cheered.

  “Way to go!” Tully shouted. “Want to try moving the ball back a little?”

  Hoot kicked one of two attempts from about the fifteen-yard line and was nearly automatic from point-after range.

  “Keep working on the kicks,” Sable said, “and you might add five or ten yards to your range. Those placekicks are valuable.”

  Hoot was good on kickoffs too, but the best punter on the team was Cap. He could sail a punt high so that defenders could reach a receiver quickly.

  After working for a while on kickoffs, punts, and returns, Tully blew his whistle.

  “Good work today, everyone! Cap, having a quarterback who can punt means we might be able to try quick kicks sometime and catch 'em unawares. You can pick up a lot of yards with a quick kick.”

  Cap suddenly felt a rush of excitement. Did that mean he was going to be the starter?

  “If your offense moves the ball the way it ought to,” muttered Sable, “you shouldn't need to quick kick.”

  Tully didn't say anything in reply.

  “See everyone here tomorrow at the usual time, ready to work!” Tully called. “We have two practices left before the scrimmage in Bee Town, so let's make the most of them.”

  “Hey, guys,” called Ben, “who's up for going over to the Spot for something to eat?”

  The Spot was Cowpen's snack shop and diner, and the main hangout for local kids.

  “Cool!” Mick Avery said.

  Several other players sounded eager to go, and Bobby Jo cleared her throat.

  “Are practice squadders welcome too?”

  “Sure,” Sam said, grinning. “You guys are part of this team!”

  Jimmy was smiling happily and looked over at Sable. “Gramps, okay if I go? Someone can drop me off later.”

  Cap nodded. “We can give Jimmy a ride, right, Grandpa?”

  “No problem,” replied Tully.

  Sable shook his head. “I think you'll have to take a rain check on that, Jim.”

  His grandson's face fell. “But—”

  “You have chores to do at home,” Sable explained. “There'll be other times.”

  “Okay,” Jimmy mumbled, not looking at the other players.

  Cap and Ben exchanged a glance, both feeling sorry for Jimmy.

  “Sam, I'm supposed to drop you off at home, too,” Sable added. “I had strict orders from your mom.”

  “Uh, maybe I should get home too,” Fritz said.

  “Well, I'm going, for sure,” Hoot said.

  The group at the Spot included six of the nine Panthers and the three practice-squad members as well. But there was a little cloud over the gathering.

  Afterward, Hoot and Ben stood with Cap before heading home.

  “Why'd Mr. Cash have to do that?” Ben asked, looking angry. “It wasn't right! Jimmy wanted to come with us.”

  “He surely did,” Cap agreed. “And so did Sam, and I bet Fritz would have come too, if they had.”

  “Cap, what's the deal with Mr. Cash and your grandpa?” Hoot asked.

  Cap shrugged. “Beats me. I know they used to play against each other a million years ago. It sounds like Mr. Cash still has it in for Grandpa, even now.”

  “Your grandpa is a nice man,” Ben said. “But, you know, he doesn't exactly love Mr. Cash, either.”

  Cap nodded wearily. “Guess he doesn't. I don't get it—all this about some old games from way back! I hope they can get over it.”

  “Me, too,” Hoot agreed. “They're our coaches, and we're a team. They have to work together.”

  Cap sighed. “Maybe I'll talk to Grandpa tonight and ask him whether he and Mr. Cash can get along better. We have enough to worry about without our coaches getting on each other like that.”

  “Good idea,” Hoot said. “Could be they don't realize that it's making the rest of us uncomfortable.”

  “Yeah, and it could hurt the team,” Ben added.

  “Well, I'll sure give it a shot,” Cap answered.

  But in his own mind he was asking himself, If Grandpa picks me to start, are he and Mr. Cash going to have a war?

  7

  After dinner, Candy went inside to help their father do the dishes. Their mother went upstairs to work at her computer. Tully was relaxing on his favorite porch chair and Cap figured this was a good time to bring up the tricky subject. He sat next to his grandfather on a footstool.

  “We're looking pretty good, huh, Grandpa?”

  Tully tilted his chair against the wall.

  “You're making good progress. It'd be nice if we had two more weeks, but then again, none of the other teams has any more time than we do.”

  Cap thought about what to say next. “So, you and Mr. Cash go back a long way, I guess.”

  Tully sighed. “In our high school days, he and I were the stars our senior year. Cowpen and Sandville, where he played, were the two best teams. Yes, we go a ways back.”

  “But Cowpen was the champ, right?”

  Tully nodded. “We were undefeated that year and beat Sandville after they'd been undefeated too. Course, Sable couldn't play, because he'd broken his leg, but I believe we'd have beaten them anyway, just not as bad.”

  “Huh,” Cap said, and thought a moment. Then, just loud enough for Tully to hear, he went on. “I guess that explains it, then.”

  “Explains what?”

  “Well, you and he aren't exactly best friends, Grandpa. I guess it's because he still thinks about not being able to play in that game and losing the championship to your team.”

  “I guess it bothers him,” Tully replied. “Although why, after all these years, is a mystery to me.”

  “Grandpa, do you like Mr. Cash?”

  Tully let his chair down.

  “Like him? Why do you ask?”

  “The two of you rub each other the wrong way. I mean, I understand him being sore about what happened back then, but you won the game. How come you're sore at him?”

  Tully frowned. “Now, hold on a minute, boy. Who says I'm sore at him? I have nothing against Sable Cash. Nothing. Except… well, except he makes all these digs at me and tries to cut me down as a coach in front of you boys, which does get to me a little. You can understand that, can't you?”

  “Sure I can,” Cap said quickly. “But—”

  “And Sable wants Jimmy to be the starting quarterback, which is my decision to make, not his. And he keeps going on about it, and I don't like that, either.”

  Cap nodded. “Jimmy's good.”

  “Sure he is, son, but so are you. I won't deny it's a hard choice. But whichever one of you starts, you'll both get plenty of playing time. Thing is, if I pick you, I know Sable will tell everyone I did it because you're family, and I really don't like that.”

  “Sure, I can see that,” Cap answered. “I just… I wish there was a way to … sort of straighten things out between you and Mr. Cash so the two of you could be friends. Or maybe not friends, but at least so you wouldn't get on each other's nerves as much.”

  Tully's frown got darker. “Casper Wadell, you stop right there. You're talking to the wrong man. If you want to straighten this out, then you have a word with Sable Cash, because this is all his doing and none of mine. Is that clear?”

  Cap felt miserable. “
But I can't talk to Mr. Cash about this, Grandpa. It' s not my place to—”

  “Well, I don't want to talk about it with you either. Like I said, it's Sable's problem and it's up to him to take care of it. Good night.”

  Tully stood up and walked quickly inside.

  Great, Cap thought. I probably just made things even worse.

  Candy came outside. “Hey, bro, what's up? I just saw Grandpa marching through the living room, looking like he was going to bust. You guys have a fight?”

  Cap sighed and sat on the porch steps. “I tried talking to him about Mr. Cash, and he didn't like it.”

  “Oh. That.” Candy sat next to her brother. “Yeah, those two don't get along, do they.”

  “It's bad for the team,” Cap said. “They're both supposed to be helping us, but they're always sniping at each other, especially Mr. Cash, but Grandpa too. Yesterday, when Mr. Cash wouldn't let Jimmy or Sam go to the Spot with the rest of us, it was … Everybody felt bad, especially Jimmy. He's a nice guy, and I—what can we do about it?”

  Candy nodded. “Bobby Jo and I were talking about it yesterday. You have a problem, for sure, and I'm surprised at Grandpa. I'd never have thought he'd get into a feud, like a little kid. I wish I could tell you I had an idea what to do, but the truth is, I don't have a clue. Bobby Jo is real good about talking to people but she didn't have any ideas either. She says that when grown-ups start behaving like kids, they don't want kids telling them about it.”

  “Guess she's right. Grandpa nearly bit my head off. What I don't get is it's all about stuff that happened even before our parents were born,” Cap said.

  “Grown-ups can be weird sometimes,” Candy replied. “Hopefully they'll work it out themselves. They must see that it makes all of you guys uncomfortable.”

  “Sure they do,” Cap said, “and I bet each of them thinks it's the other one's fault.” He looked at his sister and shook his head. “When Grandpa came up with this idea of six-man football, I was pumped! I was totally looking forward to it.”

  Candy gave Cap a look of sympathy. “Guess nothing is ever as simple as you hope it'll be. But I still think everything'll work out all right. Mr. Cash and Grandpa are good people, after all.”

  Cap nodded agreement. “Sure they are. They're good people who don't like each other much.”

  8

  A little fleet of vehicles from Cowpen pulled into the Bee Town school parking lot on the afternoon of the scrimmage. Tully had driven his station wagon, Sable Cash had his pickup, and Clete Avery, Mick and Vince's father, had driven too. They had taken the whole Panther team, including the practice squad. Even though Candy, Bobby Jo, and Gabe would not be able to play in the scrimmage, they wanted to be there.

  In their blue-and-gold uniforms and carrying their spikes, the team walked around the school to where the eighty-yard field had been freshly painted. A sign saying HOME OF THE BEE TOWN COBRAS stood by the bleachers, and a man in a sweat suit came forward.

  “Tully Wadell?” he asked, smiling.

  Tully stepped forward. “That's me.”

  “Pleased to meet you. I'm Cal Van Dyke, the Bee Town coach, and our boys will be out in a minute.”

  Sable Cash cleared his throat.

  “Cal, this is Sable Cash, who's been, uh, helping me get our team ready.”

  As they all shook hands, another man came out of the school building and joined them.

  Cal nodded to the newcomer and explained, “Baird Hoskins, one of our teachers, has agreed to be referee today. He grew up listening to his dad talk about six-man ball, so he knows the rules. Plus he's officiated at high school games.”

  “We appreciate your help,” said Tully.

  “My pleasure,” said Hoskins, who wore a white cap and T-shirt and carried a whistle and stopwatch. “I'm glad to see this game back.”

  “Here they come,” Cal said, gesturing with a thumb toward the school building. Twelve boys in gray uniforms with red trim trotted toward them, spikes clattering on the pavement.

  Cap thought they seemed older. Then he decided it was because they were in uniforms and pads. But there was no denying that Bee Town had twelve players to Cowpen's nine.

  Would it matter? Cap wasn't sure. Maybe, on a hot day, the team with more players could stay fresher, but the thing to remember was that nine good players would beat twelve not-so-good players—and nine well-coached players would beat twelve that weren't as well coached.

  But what about a team with two coaches who were always getting on each other's nerves? And the nerves of their players, as well?

  Tully and Cal introduced their players to the other team. As each player's name was given, the player stepped forward. When Cal Van Dyke called, “Vernon Dewey,” a tall, skinny boy waved a hand, and Hoot nudged Cap's arm.

  “I know Vernon,” Hoot whispered. “He's a friend of my cousin's and I used to play with him when I was little. He couldn't put one foot in front of the other without tripping. If he's playing for Bee Town, we'll whip these guys.”

  Cap felt nervous. Tully had said he'd name his starters before the scrimmage began but that the players who started today weren't necessarily those who'd start the first real game.

  After the players from both teams shook their opponents' hands, Baird Hoskins whistled for everyone's attention.

  “Most regular rules will apply today. But we won't keep score. The team that wins the coin toss will run fifteen plays. If they score during those plays, they get the ball at their thirty-five-yard line and go until they've run their fifteen. If they lose the ball by fumble or interception, they play from the same line of scrimmage.

  “After their fifteen, the other team goes on offense. If we have time, we'll do it again. Coaches can substitute as often as they want. Captains, step forward for the coin toss.”

  Two Bee Town players came forward, but none of the Panthers moved. Tully hadn't picked captains yet. The Cowpen players looked at him. So did Sable.

  Tully said, “Cap, Jimmy, you're our captains today.”

  The ref flipped the coin, Cap called, “Heads,” and the coin landed heads up.

  Jimmy said, “We'll start on offense.”

  “All right,” said Van Dyke. “We'll start in two minutes. Good luck, everyone.”

  As the Panthers gathered around Tully and Sable, Tully darted a glance at Sable before he spoke. “Listen up. Here are my starters. Ben at center, Sam and Mick at end, Fritz and Hoot at running back, and Cap at quarterback.”

  Cap heard Sable snort. He felt edgy.

  “All right,” Tully said, “let's see what we can do. I'll send in substitutes every few plays and sometimes they'll bring in a play to run. Otherwise, Cap and Jimmy—let's see how you call a game. Sable, anything to add?”

  Sable said, “Boys, there may be more of these Bee Town fellows than us, but they can only put six on the field at once. Try to get an idea what their strengths and weaknesses are, and take advantage of the weaknesses. Use your heads as well as your bodies and play your best.”

  The referee blew his whistle and Cap trotted onto the field, feeling a rush of panic. He couldn't remember any plays! He'd mess everything up and look awful! Let Jimmy start!

  Ben grinned at him, then took a closer look and asked, “You okay?”

  Taking a breath, Cap muttered, “Yeah.”

  “Listen, I'm nervous too,” Ben said. “We all are. Hey, we're ready. As soon as I snap that ball, you'll know what to do.”

  Cap felt himself relax and smiled gratefully at Ben. “Thanks. Let's get 'em.”

  Cap clapped his hands and the Panthers grouped around him. He took a quick glance at the Bee Town defense, but it told him nothing. He decided to open with a short pass.

  “Red Flare Left on two!” he said and clapped again. The Panthers moved to the line.

  The Cobras, Cap saw, had a man right over Ben and had set two defenders into the secondary. He felt sure that Ben could take care of the guy opposite him and thought the Cobras might give up some y
ardage over the middle.

  “Hut one! Hut two!”

  Ben snapped the ball, and as Cap dropped back he saw Ben slam a shoulder into the guy facing him, driving him backward. A second defender charged into the backfield but Fritz picked him up. Mick ran downfield eight yards and cut sharply toward the sidelines, while Sam sprinted on a diagonal route over the middle.

  Looking right and pumping the ball in Mick's direction, Cap saw Sam was open and fired a bullet toward him. Sam caught the ball and turned down-field, adding five yards to the seven gained on the pass before he was dragged down by two Cobras. Cap heard his sister and Bobby Jo cheering from the bleachers.

  “Huddle up, Panthers!” Ben shouted.

  Looking at his teammates, Cap felt totally in control. “Okay, Sweep Punch Veer on one! Break!”

  This was a running play, with Ben and Fritz leading interference as Hoot went around left end. Sam would go deep to try to decoy some Cobras.

  With the snap, Ben pulled to his left, and Fritz wheeled after him. Cap pivoted and lateraled perfectly to Hoot. Hoot swung in behind his blockers and got cut down by a pursuer who appeared from Cap's right.

  This time the Cobra bench cheered after the Panthers' three-yard loss. Cap realized that the tackler had been his responsibility. But he had just stood there, watching the play develop.

  He suddenly felt embarrassed and looked over to the sidelines, where he noticed Sable Cash saying something to Tully and pointing toward the field. Pointing at him, Cap thought, making sure that Tully knew Cap had messed up the play. He wanted to show them that he could do the job, but how?

  Get six quick points, that was how.

  Before he could call another play, Vince Avery ran in from the sidelines to replace Hoot.

  “The coach has a play he wants us to run,” said Vince.

  Cap heard the play and groaned to himself. It was a running play. He wanted to go long, but his grandfather would be really hot if he didn't follow orders.

  The play called for Cap to drop back as if to pass and flip a lateral to Fritz, who was set to his side as a flanker. Ben, Vince, and Cap would block while the ends ran a pattern to decoy the defense.