Go Long! (10 page)

With the score 7–0, the Eagles' defense held, and the Colts had to punt. Ronde ran the ball back to midfield, and the offense took over again.

The first two plays—both passes—were stopped by the Colts secondary. Now it was third down and ten. The play came in from the sidelines. “Texas Tech, on four,” said Tyrone.

Tiki grinned. Knowing from the videotape that the Colts would be blitzing on the next play, Coach Wheeler had called a screen pass with Tiki's name on it.

Tiki lined up and faked a block on the weak side linebacker, who was blitzing along with the safety. Then Tiki ran for the sidelines, turned, and saw the pass floating toward him.

He grabbed it in midstride—and waited for his blockers to do their thing in front of him. When the hole developed, Tiki spurted through it into daylight!

Once again, it was a footrace to the end zone, and there was nobody on that field—except of course for Ronde—who could match Tiki stride for stride.

Two drives, and two touchdowns for Tiki and the Eagles!

Tiki felt like he was floating on air—and he practically was, as his teammates lifted him up off the ground in celebration and carried him back to the bench.

Martinsville came back with a quick field goal, but the game was already out of hand for them, and it only got worse as time went on.

Tiki kept pounding out run after run. By the end of the first half, he'd scored a third touchdown, and had run for over one hundred yards—an incredible performance, and with half the game still to go!

“You da man, Tiki!” Paco said, clapping him on the back in the locker room at halftime. “Game ball for you!”

“No, Paco,” Tiki said. “Save it—the game's only half over.”

Ronde sat down next to his brother, all smiles. “You played some football out there,” he said.

“Thanks,” Tiki said. “It was all that videotape, man.”

Ronde nodded. “I know what you mean,” he said. “But now's not the time to fight about it. Just take it out on the field, and make the other team pay. We'll deal with that stuff later.”

Tiki knew Ronde was right. There'd be time to straighten out the team's problems after the game. First, they had to finish what they'd started.

Tiki did manage another touchdown in the second
half, but it was obvious that the Colts had made some halftime adjustments. Everywhere he went, there were two Colts dogging him, and jumping him the second he touched the ball.

But that meant that on every play, somebody else was
free
. The Eagles scored another twenty points without Tiki touching the ball.

Tiki managed to tough it out, even though every inch of his body ached. By the end of the game, the final score was Eagles 44, Colts 13. He'd racked up one hundred forty yards rushing, seventy-five yards passing, four receptions, three touchdowns.

He couldn't wait to see what the newspaper said about him next week!

“We did it!” Cody exulted as they trotted back into the visitors' locker room after the game. He hugged Tiki. “Man, you and me, we're gonna turn this season around!”

So now Cody was making it out to be the
two
of them?
Well
, thought Tiki,
thanks for including me.

“Hey!” he said, pushing Cody away. “You'd better give some credit to the rest of the guys—this is a team game, Cody.”

“Yeah, of course, sure,” Cody said, dismissing Tiki's comment. “I know that. But every team needs a star—and our team's got two of them!”

Tiki wasn't biting. “I think Coach Wheeler had a lot to do with it too,” he said, standing his ground.

Cody snorted. “Yeah, right. That dingbat?”

“He's
not
a dingbat,” Tiki said. “He's really smart—if you give him a chance, he could show you a thing or two.”

The whole team had gathered around to watch the standoff. Their two best players, having an argument, right when they should have been celebrating the team's first victory of the season!

“It's Coach Wheeler who deserves most of the credit,” Tiki insisted, loud enough for everyone to hear. “His video showed me how to beat that team.”

Coach Wheeler was busy in the training room with Sam Scarfone, who'd twisted his ankle. But everyone else was there, and everyone's eyes were on Tiki and Cody.

“That's baloney,” Cody said. “Take some credit, Barber. You and me, we're the ones who've got this team going!”

“Tiki's right, yo,” Ronde said, getting up and standing next to his brother. “That videotape stuff is way cool. You can get a lot of good tips from watching the team you're going to play.”

“Sit down, Ronde,” Cody said. “Who asked you, anyway?”

“He can say what he thinks,” Tiki insisted. “It's a free country.”

“What does he know?” Cody said. “He never even went to a video session!”

Tiki looked at his brother. “Tell him, Ronde.”

Ronde started to speak, then stopped and looked down at the ground.

“
Tell
him.”

“I . . . I
did
go to the videotape session.”

“No you didn't,” said Fred Soule. “I've been at every video session, and you never went to one.”

“Yes I did,” said Ronde. “I went . . . in Tiki's uniform.”

A gasp went up from all the players. Then some of them started to laugh.

“Hey, that's awesome!” Paco said.

“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.

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.