The Extra Yard (15 page)

It wasn't just that he looked happy. It was more than that. He looked young.

It was as if for one more afternoon he'd gotten back everything that he'd lost when he had it better than he knew, even if somebody else was throwing the game-winning passes now.

I
t was halftime of the Giants–Redskins game on Sunday, Eli Manning already having thrown three touchdown passes, two to Odell Beckham Jr. Normally that would have been a cause for great excitement. Just not today.

Today, Teddy and Jack and Gus and Cassie were watching in Jack's basement, all of them—even Cassie—still trying to process what the Wildcats players had learned the day before: that the finals for All-American Football, the league's Super Bowl, would be played at MetLife Stadium in New Jersey. On the same field where Eli and Beckham were playing right now. They first had to win their league title, and then win their county. But if they did, they were going to MetLife to play for the title the first Saturday after Thanksgiving.

“I still can't believe it,” Gus said.

“Same,” Teddy said. “We nearly closed the deal in the Little League World Series. Maybe we can do it now in football.”

“In
that
stadium,” Gus said, pointing at the television screen.

“On
that
field,” Teddy said.

“Long way to go, though,” Jack said.

Gus said, “We could be ahead by two touchdowns in the last minute of the championship game and you'd still be telling us not to get ahead of ourselves.”

“Let's just get there first,” Jack said.

On the halftime show, the guys seated at the desk were laughing their heads off.

“When
I'm
on television,” Cassie said, “you're not going to see me acting as if everything is that hilarious.” She turned to Teddy. “By the way, are you coming when we go up to ESPN with your dad?”

Teddy had the remote in his hand. He muted all the laughter coming from the set.

“
What
trip to ESPN?”

“He just mentioned it after the game yesterday when you'd gone over to be with your mom,” she said. “He said he was going to ask you if you wanted to do it next Sunday, because the Giants play at night.”

“Well, he didn't mention it to me.”

“He probably just forgot before he left,” Gus said. “No biggie.”

“It is to me,” Teddy said. “He should have asked me before he asked you guys.” He turned his attention to Cassie. “And how come you didn't mention it?”

“I just did.”

“I mean last night.”

“I didn't talk to you last night!” Cassie said.

“You're the one who wants to be the television star,” Teddy said. “Maybe my dad should just take you.”

“Teddy Madden, stop this right now,”
she said.

She didn't make any attempt to hide the exasperation in her voice, or maybe just the anger. Just like that, she was in what Gus liked to call her “extra-chafe” mode.

“Stop what?” Teddy said, not backing down. “He makes a plan with my friends before he checks it out with me? Not cool.”

Cassie stood up. “You're the one being not cool,” she said. “And I would like to talk to you outside.”

“The second half is about to start,” Teddy said. “And why can't Jack and Gus hear what you have to say?”

“Because right now this is between you and me,” she said. “They can pause the game till we get back.”

“Don't make this a thing, Cass,” he said.

“The thing will be me going home if you don't come outside with me.”

She walked up the stairs. Teddy made a helpless gesture to Jack and Gus but followed her. As usual when she
was
in her extra-chafe mode, he felt like he was on his way to the principal's office.

As much as the four of them did think of themselves as a team, there was no question who the captain was.

When they were out in the front yard, Teddy said, “What did I say that was so wrong?”

“What's wrong,” she said, “is you acting as if you have the right to hand out grades to your father every single day!”

She was pacing in front of him, even hotter now than she had been inside. “You need to figure out that it doesn't work that way, whether your parents are divorced or not!”

“You don't know anything about divorced parents,” Teddy said in a quiet voice.

“It's not about that, and you know it,” Cassie said. “It's only about one parent. Your dad. Who as far as I can tell is working his
butt
off to make things right between the two of you. Including this trip to ESPN.”

“Gus told me I need to trust him more,” Teddy said. “And I'm trying. But then something like this happens.”

“You've got to stop jumping on every little thing!” Cassie said. She was shouting at him now. “You act like him making this invitation, especially to me because he knows I'm interested in television, is something bad. Only it's not bad. The way him coming back hasn't turned out to be bad, has it?”

He had no choice but to give her an honest answer. “No.”

“Not only is it not bad,” she said, “it's actually turned out good.”

“So far,” Teddy said. “So far, so good.”

“Just admit that he's not only making you a better football player,” she said, “he's starting to give you what you always wanted, even if you said you didn't: a real dad.”

“You think we're one big happy family, Cass? Come on, you know better than that.”

“You've finally got two parents in your life, whether they're married to each other or not.”

Teddy looked at her. She had her hands on her hips and was still breathing hard. Her face was still a little red. But she had calmed down.

He smiled.

“You're right,” he said.

She smiled back.

“I'm sorry,” she said, “I didn't quite catch that.”

“Do I need to post it on Facebook?” Teddy said.

“That won't be necessary,” Cassie said. “Just hearing it is enough.”

“It must be so difficult for you,” Teddy said, still smiling, “being the bigger person all the time.”

“I manage,” she said.

Behind them, Gus opened the door and poked his head out.

“Beckham just scored again,” he said.

“I thought you were going to pause the game!” Teddy said.

“We're weak,” Gus said.

Teddy and Cassie followed him back downstairs. Teddy's dad called after dinner and asked him about ESPN, apologizing for not mentioning it before Teddy left the field. Teddy told him no worries, it was a cool idea and he couldn't wait. His dad said he would go ahead and set it up.

“But we only go if we beat Norris on Saturday, okay?” Teddy said.

Norris was 5–0, the same as the Wildcats. It would be the biggest game they'd played yet.

“Deal,” his dad said. “Now go study your new plays so you'll be ready to run them at practice.”

“Yes, Coach.”

The other guys were starting to call him Coach. There was no reason for Teddy not to do the same. Coach Gilbert seemed more and more comfortable turning over the play calling to his old quarterback during games and adding things to the Wildcats' offense on the fly. So every few days he'd give the guys a play or two that hadn't been in their playbooks when the season started.

While Teddy had been watching the Giants play this afternoon, his dad had stopped by with more new pages to stick in the back of Teddy's blue binder. It was getting thicker all the time. Sometimes Teddy imagined those pages to be like another new chapter in the story they were writing together.

Like with any really good story, Teddy couldn't wait to find out how this one came out.

T
he Norris game was at home, and the bleachers on both sides of Holzman Field were completely full a half hour before the game started. All week long Walton kids and Norris kids had been going back and forth about the game on Facebook—all of it in good fun—as a way of hyping up the battle of the league's two unbeatens.

It was 14–13, Walton, at halftime, and so far the game had lived up to all the hype. Teddy had come out on fire, not even throwing his first incompletion until the Wildcats' second drive. By the time that drive ended, he had thrown for one touchdown and run for another, and the Wildcats were ahead 14–0.

It turned out, though, that the Norris Panthers had a pretty fancy quarterback of their own named Scotty Hanley. He looked too small to play the position as well as he did, or have the kind of arm that he did. But once his team got behind, he began to show you how much game he had. On the Wildcats' sideline, Jack Callahan called him a “wizard.”

“Great,” Teddy said. “So you're telling me we're up against Harry Potter?”

As small as Scotty Hanley was—and he was the smallest player on either team—he wasn't just playing big. He was playing huge, throwing the ball short and long, hiding it on fakes, running like a streak of light when he got into the open field.

“Pay attention to this guy,” Teddy's dad said on the sideline. “You can learn from him.”

“I thought I was trying to
beat
him,” Teddy said.

“You will,” his dad said. “Doesn't mean you can't pick up a few pointers along the way. He's having so much fun it's like he's playing touch football in the street with his buddies.”

“And watching him do it is supposed to be fun for me?”

“It's your best against his best today,” David Madden said. “What can be better than that?”

•  •  •

Scotty Hanley got the ball first in the second half, and the whole drive was like a clinic on how to play quarterback when you were twelve years old. Or maybe at any age.

A few plays into the drive Scotty sold a fake to his halfback so well, and got to the outside so fast on a bootleg, Teddy thought he was going to run sixty yards for a score. But as fast as he was, Gregg Leonard was faster, and brought him down from behind at the Wildcats' fifteen. Two short passes later Scotty got away from what looked like a sure sack, scrambled to his left, then threw back across his body to his tight end. The touchdown made it 19–14, Norris. Scotty then surprised everybody by running a simple quarterback sneak for the conversion, and it was 20–14.

“He's not going to give this to us,” Teddy said, snapping his chin strap, ready to get after it.

“Who wants him to?”

“You're right,” Teddy said. “We're just gonna take it.”

“Ball fake on first down to Jake, then throw it as far as you can to Gus.”

“Love it,” Teddy said.

“Let's show the little wizard who's got more tricks up his sleeve,” his dad said.

Teddy sold the ball fake to Jake the way Scotty Hanley had been selling fakes like that all game long. Then he stepped back as Gus blew past the cornerback covering him, and he let the ball go. By the time Gus caught it, he was ten yards clear of the cornerback, who would have needed a fast car to catch him. It was 20–20. Jake tripped over Charlie Lyons's foot as he tried to break through the line on the conversion.

So the game between the two unbeaten teams in the league stayed tied, all the way until there were five minutes left in the fourth quarter and Teddy got hurt.

I
t wasn't even that bad a hit.

Teddy tried to hold the ball a second too long even though he could feel the rush coming from his left. When he finally did release the ball, he overthrew Nate, and badly, on the right sideline.

As soon as he did, he got launched sideways, and when he landed, it was on his right shoulder. He felt as if he'd been dropped out of his bedroom window, and he stayed down, the pain shooting through him.

When he finally rolled over, he saw his dad and Coach Gilbert and Dr. McAuley staring down at him.

“Where's it hurt?” his dad said.

“Behind the shoulder, pretty much,” Teddy said. “But I'm fine.”

He sat up.

“How about we let Doc tell you whether you're fine or not?” his dad said.

“We're going to get you over to the sideline so I can take a closer look,” Dr. McAuley said. “But before we do, I want you, as gently as possible, to make a big circle with your right arm. And if the pain is too bad, I want you to stop.”

Teddy tried, and couldn't help himself from making a face as he followed through. His dad noticed. They probably all did.

“You're coming out,” his dad said, as if he were acting as the head coach in that moment.

“No!” Teddy said. “I got dinged is all. It happens to guys on every play in football. Coach Gilbert, you tell us that all the time.”

Coach nodded. “Let's just get you over to the sideline so Doc can do what he wants and check the damage.”

“There is no damage!” Teddy said. “It was just a hard hit. Please don't make me come out.”

“Just for now,” Coach Gilbert said. “If there is something wrong, I don't want to make it worse.”

“You mean like I did,” David Madden said to him.

They all helped Teddy to his feet, even though he told them he didn't need help, and walked him off the field. Teddy was aware of the cheers coming from the Walton side of Holzman Field. He watched from the sideline as Jake, who'd gone in for him at quarterback, tried to get the first down on a quarterback sweep. But Norris's middle linebacker read the play beautifully and dropped Jake for a five-yard loss. Gregg Leonard, the Wildcats' punter, got off a great kick, one that went over the head of the Norris kid trying to return it and finally came to rest at the Norris ten yard line.

Four minutes and one second left. Game still tied at 20-all.

Dr. McAuley had Teddy sit on the bench and put him through a bunch of range-of-motion exercises. Gus stood right there and watched. So did Jack, his eyes big, probably wondering if the same thing that had happened to his shoulder—and his season—had just happened to Teddy.