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“You can’t do much running here, but you can learn the plays. Now, by
play
, I don’t mean this is some kind of birthday party romp, understand?” He boosted himself to standing with his cane and gave another toot on his whistle. He took a step toward them. “We go to battle the day after tomorrow. We’ve got to make this practice count.” He whistled again. “Understood?”

“Granddaddy!” said Ned, looking around at his friends, embarrassed. “Maybe we don’t need the whistle?”

“We all have our parts in this impending victory. I’m your coach. Coaches have whistles. Think how Burton and his fellows will quake when they see you have a genuine coach pacing the sidelines.”

“Are you sure you can pace, Mr. Button?” said Paul. “You’re looking sort of stumbly.”

“Pshaw. That’s my regular gait. Now,” he said, and he tapped the side of the shed with his cane, “this here will be our game board. It’s like a checkers board, and you are going to be the pieces. Gladdy, I’m counting on you for chalk.”

“Yes, sir!” she said, and ran next door.

“I taught them the two plays you showed me,” said Ned. “But we need more.”

“Fine, fine,” said Granddaddy. He leaned on his cane and studied the group. His head bobbed as he counted them silently. He combed his wide mustache with his fingers and cleared his throat a couple of times. He closed his eyes. A long moment went by.

“What’s he doing?” Paul whispered to Ned.

“Is he OK?” Mel whispered.

“He’s fine,” said Ned. “He’s just working on something in his head.”

Granddaddy snapped back to action when Gladdy returned. He drew out a rectangle on the side of the shed with her chalk. He marked out a new play and assigned them each a position as he explained how it worked. They got into formation halfway between the shed and the back step and tried it out.

Granddaddy blew on his whistle.

“What’s wrong?” said Ned.

“Fine!” said Granddaddy. “One toot is for fine. Close enough to fine, anyhow. Run that one three more times, then we’ll try another. That one plus the two Ned taught you plus one more is four. Four plays learned well should be enough to confuse Burton Ward. He’s no genius if he takes after his granddaddy, I’ll tell you that.”

As they practiced running the plays, Granddaddy sat down on his barrel. He leaned back against the shed and tooted his whistle every now and again. Ned took over giving directions, and they had all but forgotten Granddaddy until Mother Button came out and took the whistle from him and gave it a sharp blast.

“Coach Mother here, and I say practice is over for today. Granddaddy is plumb wore out.”

“Mina, I —” Granddaddy started. But Mina held up her hand.

“‘Mina, I’ nothing. This is enough until the game. Off you go, all of you. Ned and Gladdy, come on home.”

“But tomorrow —” said Ned.

“Tomorrow Granddaddy will rest,” said Mother. “Saturday will be here soon enough.”

“If you’re going to waste your brain space listening to that ball game at the barbershop today, Granddaddy Ike needs a cut and a shave,” said Mother. “Here’s two bits. The change will come back to me. Gladdy and I are going over to Corrine’s, so keep an eye on Granddaddy until we get back.”

Ned tried to stay calm but his insides were jumping all over. Lester Ward was probably warming up right now. He was probably already on the field. The Carroll College team was probably already in Iowa City. They were probably big. Not as big as Hawkeye men, but big.

Ned would be playing football with Lester Ward’s ball in a matter of hours. Now,
this
was a Saturday. He grabbed his new paper-and-twine football and went over to Granddaddy’s.

Granddaddy was not on the porch. Ned let himself in the front door. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the dimness. Granddaddy was on the floor, sitting with his back against the bed, still in his nightshirt.

“Granddaddy!” said Ned. “What are you doing down there? We’re going to be late.”

“I know, I know, Ned. You’re going to have to help me. I reached for my glasses getting out of bed and knocked ’em off the bureau, and once I got down here, these useless pegs wouldn’t stand me back up. I knew you’d be here eventually, so I just took me a little nap.”

“Here,” said Ned. “Put your arms around my neck.” Ned put his arms under Granddaddy’s and pulled him up to standing. He leaned Granddaddy against the bed, then slowly let go. “Got it?” he said.

“Yep,” said Granddaddy. “Just bring me my stick and a pair of trousers.”

“Which shirt?” Ned asked when they’d gotten Granddaddy’s boots tied.

“No need,” said Granddaddy. “I’ll just tuck my nightshirt into my trousers. But grab the whistle. Now, which suspenders?” He held up one pair with his right hand while holding his trousers up with his left. “These are smarter, but the others are yellow, and that would be fitting for the Old Gold.”

“Gold,” said Ned. “Let’s go.”

“Just help me fasten these on here, and off we go.” Then, in an imitation of Ned’s mother, he added, “Look lively, now. Look lively.”

But as soon as he started across the floor, Granddaddy faltered.

“That there’s a real nuisance,” said Granddaddy, looking down at his uncooperative legs. “My head is feeling perky enough, but my walkers are bum.”

They stood a moment, considering.

“I know,” said Ned. “Wait here.”

Ned ran out to the shed behind Granddaddy’s house and dragged out the wheelbarrow. He ran into his room and pulled the quilt off his bed. Then he mashed the quilt over the crusty muck in the wheelbarrow and pushed it to Granddaddy’s back door.

“It’s no Pontiac,” he said to Granddaddy, “but it’s faster than standing still.” He helped Granddaddy down the steps and tilted the wheelbarrow so Granddaddy could sit back into it.

They got off to a wobbly start. “Try to stay in the middle or I might dump you,” said Ned.

People tooted horns as they drove by, and Granddaddy waved like he was the grand marshal in a parade. Everyone was in a jovial mood.

Granddaddy was surprisingly heavy in the wheelbarrow, and their progress was slow. Ned stopped and rested at every block. They paused outside the Ben Franklin. The Wards had locked the door and posted a sign that said
GONE TO GAME. GO HAWKS!

By the time they got to the barbershop the game was already well under way, but Mr. Leek had saved a chair for Granddaddy, as he promised.

“Let’s get you set up,” said Mr. Leek. He took one arm and Mr. Jackson the other and they hoisted Granddaddy into his perch. Tugs and Aggie were already there, and Ralph and the other boys were scattered outside on the sidewalk.

Mr. Leek turned up the volume and everyone leaned in to listen. The sound of the crowd was like a whoosh of wind, and the announcer raised his voice. Ned strained for Lester’s name. It wasn’t called.

“Don’t worry. Players switch in and out,” said Mr. Leek.

As Ned listened to the game, he imagined it was his and the other fellows’ game against Burton and Clyde. Lester was the end and Ned was Will Glassgow, throwing the ball over the heads of the Carroll players. And there. Lester was catching Ned’s pass, running thirty-seven yards for a touchdown! Ned whooped with the rest of the crowd on the sidewalk outside the barbershop. The men inside were hollering, too, like a bunch of schoolboys.

The Hawkeyes scored touchdown after unanswered touchdown. Chatter around the shop overtook the sounds of the game. After his shave, Granddaddy nodded off, and Ned and the kids on the sidewalk started drawing plays with chalk. Ned wrote the names and drew the plays, and then they ran them in the street. Every time a touchdown was scored on the radio, shouts went up from inside the barbershop and Granddaddy snapped awake.

“Iowa! Iowa! Iowa!” they chanted.

The game was nearly over. The score was 39–0 and Carroll had the ball.
“Shutout! Shutout! Shutout!”
chanted Ned and Ralph.

“Hush!” admonished Mr. Leek. They all quieted and leaned in to listen to the final seconds of the game.

“The Carroll quarterback takes the snap. He throws long and — wait — Gerhard Hauge has intercepted the pass! He’s running. He’s at the Carroll twenty, thirty . . . He’s in Hawkeye territory, folks! He has broken away, and Hauge is going to close down this stadium with a . . . yes, it’s a . . . TOUCHDOWN!”

There was much glad-handing and backslapping around the barbershop when the game ended, but Granddaddy interrupted the jubilee with a whistle.

“Help me back in my chariot!” he said. “Now it’s time for the real game.”

“The real game?” said Mr. Leek.

“Tractor Field,” said Granddaddy. “Ned’s fellows are taking on Burton Ward.”

He started to get out of the chair, but Mr. Jackson stopped him.

“Slow down there, Ike. You’re looking a little pasty. Sure I shouldn’t take you home?”

“Nothing doing,” said Granddaddy. “I taught these fellows everything they know.”

“All right,” said Mr. Jackson. “But I’ll take you in my car. Let the kids run on ahead.”

“Just park your wheelbarrow out behind the shop, Ned,” said Mr. Leek. “Go on. We’ll get Ike there.”

Ned looked at Tugs and Ralph and Aggie. He shrugged. “Ready?” he said.

“Aggie and me will change and meet you there,” said Tugs.

“Sure you’re OK, Granddaddy?” asked Ned.

“’Course I am. Now, get going. Just don’t start the game until I get there.”

Ralph and Ned whooped and hollered, ran and skipped the whole way, feeling better with each passing block.

Then they were at Tractor Field. It looked bigger today without the crowds. In fact, it was empty, save for a couple of hoboes walking the track.

“I guess we’re early,” said Ralph. “You didn’t bring your ball, did you?”

“Shoot! I left it at Granddaddy’s. It’s OK, though. We’ll be using Lester’s. Burton will bring it.”

“Didn’t Burton go to the game?”

The sign on the Ben Franklin. Of course. Burton was at the game in Iowa City. He wouldn’t be home for hours. Until it was too late to start a game. Ned couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of that.

Franklin and the boys started to arrive, but no one from Burton’s or Clyde’s teams showed up.

“They knew,” said Ralph. “They weren’t going to play us anyhow.”

“They were,” said Ned. “They are. They’ll just be late.”

“I guess I’ll be going, then,” said Paul. “See you Monday.”

“Let’s wait,” said Ned. “I’m sure they’ll be here. They said they’d be here. We just have to wait until they get home from the game. Clyde probably went with Burton. Mr. Ward will drop them off here. You’ll see.”

“What about the other fellows?”

“They’ll know to come later.”

“I don’t know,” said Franklin.

“Come on,” said Ned. “We can practice some plays. Does anyone have a ball? Franklin?”

Franklin shook his head.

“Well,” said Ned. “We can do some warm-ups. Run.”

The boys stood around looking at one another.

“I’ll stay,” said Ralph.

“Thanks,” said Ned. “Who else is in? Fellows?”

“Aggie and me,” said Tugs.

“All right,” said Franklin.

Paul shrugged and hopped onto his hands and walked around a bit. Mel plopped down on the ground.

Then a car honked over and over, and they turned. It was Mr. Jackson with Mr. Leek and Granddaddy Ike. Ned ran up to the car.