Double Reverse (5 page)

The Franklin freshman team captains, Griffin and Quinn, ran back to the team huddle. “We’re kicking off!” they shouted.

Jesse caught Savannah’s eye. She didn’t look nearly as nervous as he felt. Jesse was psyched that Savannah had decided to quit the soccer team to concentrate on football. She’d gotten better with every kick during the past week of practice.

Savannah tucked her hair behind her ears and slid on her helmet. Her kickoff was long and low. It skipped past the Glen Forest runner, forcing him to race back after the ball. When the Franklin defense
tackled the runner at the 15-yard line, their bench exploded in cheers.

“All right, Savannah!”

“That’s how to pin them back!”

“Hold ’em, defense!”

Jesse gave Quinn a shoulder bump and Savannah a high five. “Great kickoff! Our opponents aren’t starting at midfield for a change.”

Franklin and Glen Forest settled into a back-and-forth struggle. The Panthers scored first. They were at the 20-yard line when Jesse faded back to pass. Finding no one open, he scrambled, still hoping to pass. But he saw some daylight and took off. With Langston giving him a key block downfield, Jesse scooted past the Glen Forest secondary and was gone.

Touchdown!

As Jesse celebrated with his teammates, he thought about the next play. He wondered if Coach would let Savannah try for the extra point.

A Franklin player sprinted onto the field
with the answer. “Coach wants you to run I-35.”

The Glen Forest Eagles stopped that running play cold. But the Franklin Panthers were still ahead, 6–0.

Glen Forest came back after another good kick and drove downfield for a score, but they didn’t make the 2-point conversion after the touchdown. The score was knotted up, 6–6.

Shortly before halftime, Jesse dashed to his right and tried to throw a long pass on the run to Langston. The ball stayed in the air too long and floated short. The Glen Forest safety grabbed the ball for an interception at midfield. Glen Forest took advantage of the turnover to score again and grab the lead, 12–6.

Coach Vittone caught up with Jesse as the teams walked off the field at halftime. “Remember, Tark, it’s tough to throw a long pass when you’re running sideways. Get your feet under you first.”

Jesse nodded. “I guess I thought I could
throw the ball like Jay.”

Coach Vittone put his arm around Jesse. “Don’t worry about being like your brother. Play your own game … your way. You’re doing fine. We can come back in the second half.”

They did. Jesse and his teammates on offense started moving the ball, picking up first downs but no scores. Then with only a few minutes left in the game, Jesse led the Panthers on a long drive, mixing runs by Griffin between the tackles and quick, short passes.

The drive stalled on the 15-yard line. Third down, ten yards to go.

Jesse stepped into the huddle. “Deep out on one.” Jesse knew it was a tough pass. But he also knew his team needed a big play. “Give me enough time,” he said to the Franklin linemen.

“Ready … set … hut one!”

Jesse faded back, avoided a Glen Forest tackler, and shifted right. He planted his feet and let fly. The ball wobbled a bit and seemed to take forever getting there, but it
found Langston in the corner of the end zone.

Touchdown!
The game was tied, 12–12.

His teammates were jumping up and down, but Jesse was looking to the bench. The Panthers had a chance to pull ahead if they could make the extra point. Coach Butler held his hands over his head and shouted, “Time! Time out!”

The offense huddled near the sidelines. “Let’s have Savannah kick it,” Quinn suggested. Jesse shot a surprised look at his best friend. It seemed Savannah had convinced even Quinn that she could kick.

Coach Butler shook his head firmly. “She hasn’t practiced that much yet. I don’t want to put the whole game on her shoulders.” He grabbed his clipboard. “Let’s run I-35 again. On one, let’s go.”

Jesse didn’t move. “Coach, they stopped that play for no gain last time. Let me fake it to Griffin on the I-35 and roll out.”

“What?”

Jesse grabbed the pen and scribbled some extra moves on the clipboard.

“Quinn and I have done this a dozen times practicing at the park,” he pleaded with the coach. “Quinn’ll be at tight end. He’ll hold his block for a count of one and do a short down-and-out.”

Coach Butler traded a look with Coach Vittone. They both seemed skeptical.

But then Butler said, “Okay, if you guys have been practicing it, let’s give it a try.”

The boys sprinted back onto the field. “Hey, Quinn,” Coach Vittone called after them. “Don’t forget to tell the referee you’re lining up at tight end!”

“Ready … set … hut one … hut two!”

Jesse turned, faked the handoff to Griffin, and rolled right. When he looked back, a Glen Forest linebacker was rushing right at him. Jesse spied Quinn running free in the end zone. He floated a pass over the defender’s head and into Quinn’s waiting hands. Jesse was smiling even as the Glen Forest linebacker smashed him to the ground.

The Panthers were ahead, 14–12!

Savannah boomed the kickoff almost to the end zone, pinning Glen Forest deep in their own territory. The Eagles didn’t have a chance to go the more than 80 yards against the fired-up Panthers defense in order to score. Time ran out and the Franklin High freshman football team had their first win!

As the team walked off the field, they all seemed happy: Langston about his big touchdown catch. Quinn about his game-winning extra points. Savannah about being the Panthers’ new and improved kicker. And last but not least, Jesse, who was still
remembering his big plays—a touchdown run, a touchdown pass, and the game-winning play.

He took off his helmet and shook out his sweaty hair. “Some of us may not look like we can play the parts,” he said to the happy Franklin Panthers, “but I think we’re putting together a pretty good football team.”

The trees along the highway were ablaze in October colors: reds and golds against the stubborn deep greens of the pines.

“What time is the game?” Jesse asked.

“One o’clock,” his father said, turning to face him from the passenger’s seat.

“Do you think Jay will get to play much?”

“Some. The coach has been using him as a fifth defensive back on passing downs.”

“He said he was playing special teams too,” Jesse’s mom added, keeping her eyes on the twisting road.

Jesse slid down in the backseat. Part of him still saw his brother Jay as the quarterback, the main guy on the team. It was going to take some time to get used to seeing him as a safety and a part-time player.

As the Wagners pulled closer to the campus, the autumn woods gave way to the sights and sounds of a small college town. Stone and brick buildings, some more than a hundred years old, stood back from the tree-lined streets. Clusters of students and parents walked across the wide campus greens toward the football stadium.

Jesse’s mother parked the car and they all stepped out. “It’s a perfect day for a football game,” she declared, looking up at the fluttering leaves.

“Yeah,” Jesse agreed. “This game is going to be totally cool.”

“Even though Jay isn’t the quarterback?” his dad asked.

“Well, it won’t be perfect, but that’s okay. He’s playing college football,” Jesse said, thinking about his own unspoken dreams. “Not many guys get to do that.”

Jesse’s mom hooked her arm into Jesse’s and pulled him closer. “And we still have a quarterback in the family.”

They walked through the postcard-perfect campus to the stadium. His dad handed
three tickets to a man standing at the stadium gate. Jesse pushed his way through the turnstile. Inside, under the stands, an older man wearing a bright green windbreaker shouted, “Program, program, get your program!”

“How much?” Jesse’s father asked.

“Five bucks.”

Jesse’s dad paid for the program and handed it to him. “Here you go. Look up your brother.”

Jesse leafed through the program until he came to the team rosters.

“Here he is. Number 12,” Jesse said. “At least he still has a quarterback’s number.”

The stands were slowly filling as the Wagners walked up the stone steps and found their seats in a midfield section filled with fans wearing green sweaters, hats, and sweatshirts. Across the sun-splashed field, the fans were mostly in red. The two teams ran out onto the field and the fans on both sides stood and cheered.

“Go, Dartmouth! Go, Big Green!”

“Go, Big Red! Go, Cornell!”

Jesse’s mother pulled at his father’s coat sleeve. “There he is!” she shouted. Jesse could hear the excitement in her voice. “Number 12. Go, Green!”

Dartmouth jumped out to an early 14–0 lead on a couple of quick touchdowns, including the 65-yard return of a short, low punt.

“That’s what happens when you don’t have any hang time on your kicks,” Jesse said to his father as the Dartmouth section celebrated. “The other team gets a big return.”

Cornell scored just before the end of the half to pull closer, 14–7.

Munching hot dogs in the stands at halftime, the family went over the highlights of the first half.

“Jay got to play quite a bit,” Jesse’s mother said.

“That’s because Dartmouth was ahead and Cornell was trying to catch up by throwing passes,” his dad said.

Jesse wiped some mustard off his cheek. “Jay looks like he knows what he’s doing at safety. I mean, he doesn’t look like he’s in over his head or anything.”

“So far, so good.” Jesse’s dad finished off his hot dog and settled back for the second half.

As the teams ran out, his mom stood, bouncing and clapping. “Go, Big Green!”

Cornell came charging back right away. They tied it up with a long run and then pulled ahead with a 32-yard field goal, pushing the score to 17–14.

Then Dartmouth rallied. The Big Green drove down the field, eating up yardage and
time on the clock. Dartmouth capped the drive when their quarterback zigzagged his way to the end zone on a 15-yard scamper. Dartmouth had the lead again, 21–17.

After the kickoff, Jesse’s father studied the scoreboard at the end of Memorial Field. “Less than three minutes to go and Cornell’s got to cover 70 yards for a TD.” He was on his feet. “Hold ’em! Dee-fense! Dee-fense!”

Jesse looked down at the field. “Jay’s going in!”

Cornell kept fighting. Two first downs put the ball in Dartmouth territory at the 45-yard line. The cheers from the Big Green fans grew more desperate.

“Dee-fense!”

“Dee-fense!”

“DEEEE-fense!”

On fourth down with only twenty seconds to go, the Cornell quarterback faded back and lofted a long Hail Mary pass into the end zone. For just a second the Cornell receiver looked open. Jesse watched as his brother rushed over, leaped high into the
air, and swatted the ball away. The moment the football hit the turf, Jesse and his parents jumped up and cheered, joining the other overjoyed Dartmouth fans. Thanks to Jay, the Big Green had hung on to win.

After the game, the fans and players from both teams milled around the field as the sun slipped down behind the White Mountains. The last rays of sunshine bathed the stadium in an orange, reddish glow.

“Here he comes!” Jesse’s mother shouted over the noise of the crowd.

Jay emerged, dirty and sweaty but smiling with the Big Green victory. Their mom rushed over and gave him a kiss, avoiding the eye black on his cheek.

“Great play at the end,” their dad said, giving Jay a playful punch on the shoulder pad.

Jay laughed. “Oh man, I was so scared. If I had let that guy catch the ball, I don’t think Coach would’ve ever let me play safety again.”

Jesse watched his brother as he talked.
With his helmet under his arm and the number 12 on his chest, Jay still looked every inch a quarterback.