“I don’t have that problem,” Manny said. “I’m spending too much time just watching you guys. I’ve got energy to spare.”
“Yeah,” Anthony said, shaking his head. “You don’t play because you’re too small, and I might not play because I’m too
big.
”
The bell rang and Manny walked into the hallway and toward his locker. He could see Donald up ahead. They didn’t have any classes together, but their lockers were next to each other on the second floor. Manny squeezed past a group of kids moving slowly and hurried to catch up to Donald.
“Slow down, young man,” said a teacher.
Manny nodded and slowed down for about two steps. Then he caught Donald at the doorway to the stairs.
“One day down, a hundred eighty-one to go,” Manny said.
“Can you believe I have homework in
three
subjects?” Donald said. “First day of school.”
“Me, too,” Manny said. “Well, in two of them we just have to put covers on the book.”
“I’m wiped out,” Donald said. “How do we get out of practice?”
“Why would you want to do that? Kickoff team, remember?”
“Oh, yeah.”
They reached their lockers, but Manny’s was occupied. Sherry Allegretta was leaning against it, chewing gum and looking at her watch.
“Excuse me,” Manny said.
“You’re excused.” Sherry stared at him for a few seconds, then frowned and looked away.
“That’s my locker.”
“So?”
“I need to get in there.”
Sherry sighed and rolled her eyes. She pushed away from the locker with her elbows and then leaned on the one next to it.
Manny worked his locker combination and tried not to lean into Sherry. She smelled strongly of gum and lip gloss. He could only open the locker about halfway because she was still taking up part of the space.
“Watch it,” she said when Manny bumped her with the locker.
“You’re in the way.”
“I’m
waiting
for somebody.”
“Well, can you wait, like, six inches farther over?”
Sherry sighed loudly again. “There he is anyway,” she said as Jason Fiorelli walked down the hallway. Jason was a sports star with a great sense of humor and a mischievous smile. He was the one who’d tackled Manny after that interception the other day.
“Thanks a
lot
, squirt,” Sherry said to Manny. She was short but built. Manny watched her walk away, but Donald smacked his arm.
“We gotta go or we’ll be late,” Donald said. “She’s out of your league, anyway.”
“What? I ain’t interested in
her.
She was just in my way,” Manny said.
“Yeah, well, she’s after Fiorelli,” Donald said. “She can probably run him down faster than you could.”
Manny laughed. “Yeah, but I hit harder.”
“She’d better hit hard if she expects any time with Fiorelli,” Donald said. “Every girl in the school seems to be after him.”
6
The Kickoff
S
aturday came quickly, but the afternoon dragged on as Manny waited eagerly for game time. He watched a college game on TV and tossed a ball around with Sal, but every time he checked the clock it was only a little bit later than the time before.
Finally it was time to suit up, and he went to his closet to get his game jersey, where he’d hung it the day before. It felt smooth and new, with the white number 34 standing out from the bright red material. He’d even cleaned his helmet with window spray.
“You look like a pro,” Sal said. “I can’t wait for this game, Manny. I can’t wait.”
“I can’t wait either. I hope we kick off. First play, I’m gonna nail somebody.
Wham!
”
“Knock ’em flat, Manny.”
“Right on their butts.”
Donald showed up a few minutes later, and they walked to the high school field. It was still two hours until game time, but the coaches wanted the players there by five P.M. to warm up and go over strategy. South Bergen had won the league title the year before, so the Hudson City Hornets were in for a battle.
“You nervous?” Donald asked as they arrived at the field.
“A little,” Manny said. He laughed. “I think I’ll be a
lot
more nervous when the game starts.”
“Me, too. I hardly slept last night, and I could barely eat lunch.”
“
You
not eating?” Manny said. “Never thought I’d see that.”
“Oh, I ate. But I had to force it down.”
Players were out on the field stretching and throwing a football around. It wouldn’t be dark for a while yet, but the lights would be on for the game.
Manny hadn’t eaten much either, but his parents said they’d all go out for pizza after the game. He didn’t even want to think about food, though. The jitters in his stomach told him he’d never keep anything down.
The team warmed up, did a few passing drills, and gathered around the head coach as he talked about playing smart and playing hard. “This is our home field, guys,” he said. “Don’t let them take over our turf. Show them who’s boss, right from the opening play.”
The team yelled. Game time was approaching quickly. The bleachers were filled with spectators, and the referees had arrived, gathering near midfield in their black-and-white uniforms. The South Bergen team, dressed in white uniforms with blue-and-yellow trim, looked big and strong on the opposite sideline.
Manny looked around for Anthony and saw him trotting onto the field from the locker room. Anthony made a fist and shook it in the air as he saw Manny. “One pound under!” he shouted.
“Yeah!” Manny yelled. Anthony had made it under the weight limit.
“All I ate since lunch yesterday was two crackers with peanut butter,” Anthony said as he reached the sideline.
Wide receiver Jason Fiorelli came over and put his arms around Anthony, pretending that he was going to pick him up. “You’re light as a feather,” Jason said, joking as always.
Manny was amazed that Fiorelli never seemed to give in to pressure. He’d seen him go to the line in the final seconds of the YMCA championship basketball game and calmly sink two free throws to secure a victory. One time he made three straight strikes in the tenth frame of a bowling match when anything less would have meant a loss. And he always did these things with a smile on his face. Here they were, seconds from the kickoff, and Jason was as loose as ever.
“Listen, Anthony, if you’re hungry, you can graze between plays,” Fiorelli said. “Just take a mouthful of grass.”
“I’m ready to eat my helmet,” Anthony said.
“Think of their quarterback as a big hunk of steak,” Fiorelli said. “Every time you sack him, you get to take a bite.”
“Maybe I’ll picture a turkey instead,” Anthony said. “Steaks don’t run away from you.”
Vinnie DiMarco and the other captain walked to the center of the field for the coin flip. Manny swallowed hard. South Bergen won the toss and the official indicated that they’d be receiving.
“Kickoff team, get ready!” yelled an assistant coach.
Manny snapped his chinstrap and closed his eyes. First play of the season, and he’d be out there. Anthony smacked him on the helmet and said, “Let’s go, Manny. Use that speed.”
The crowd stood and cheered as the Hornets took the field. Manny and Donald jogged to their spots near the opposite sideline. South Bergen players were glaring at them from across the field. The guy across from Manny was huge.
“Box and in,” Manny said to Donald.
“I know it,” Donald said. “Get ready to sprint your butt off, man. Straight down and angle in. Stop that sucker cold.”
DiMarco was lined up to kick, raising his hand to signal for his teammates to move. The crowd continued to yell. Manny took one last gulp of air and rubbed his hands together.
There! The kick was high and long, slicing toward Manny’s side of the field. Manny streaked ahead, watching the receiver as he waited for the ball.
Suddenly Manny felt a major impact as his legs were cut from underneath and he went sprawling toward the grass. He hit the ground hard, but scrambled up and searched for the return man.
There he was, cutting straight toward him. Manny took a quick step in that direction, but another blocker was leading the way. Manny was no match for him, getting knocked aside and spinning to the turf once again. The ball carrier ran past, crossing midfield, racing along the sideline.
DiMarco finally made the tackle down near the 20-yard line. He’d saved a touchdown, but South Bergen had great field position for its opening series.
Manny got up and jogged across the field. Donald was just ahead of him, hobbling a bit.
Donald turned to Manny. “What happened?” he asked.
“I got wiped out after about two seconds,” Manny said. “Knocked on my butt. Twice.”
“Me, too. That was terrible.”
“Those dudes are big,” Manny said. “And fast.”
“So are we,” Donald said. “They just got lucky.”
They reached the sideline and the assistant coach called them over.
“Guys, that wasn’t pretty,” the coach said. “We had no penetration. We gave them a clear path up the field. You guys on the end”—he pointed to Donald and Manny—“you have to close off those lanes. Stay on your feet and hit back.”
They both nodded vigorously. Manny wasn’t sure what he could have done differently though. He never had a chance to get downfield.
South Bergen’s great field position was too much for the Hudson City defense to overcome. The opponents had a rugged fullback who bulled through the line repeatedly. A quick pass into the end zone capped the drive, and South Bergen was ahead.
Hudson City didn’t get far on its first opportunity, being left 4 yards short of a first down on its opening series. DiMarco’s punt left South Bergen well short of midfield, however, and the Hornets’ defense was able to hold them this time.
The first half became little more than a succession of punts, as neither team made a serious drive downfield. It was still 7–0 at halftime.
“We’re right in this one,” Coach Reynolds told his players in the locker room. “Our defense has been great, and the offense is starting to show something. We need to get a score and even this one up. This second half should belong to us.”
Donald smacked Manny on the arm. “After we score, you and me are gonna make up for that screw-up on the kickoff,” he said. “This time we nail ’em deep in their territory. Maybe even cause a fumble on the return.”
Manny swallowed hard and nodded. “You said it.”
Hudson City received the second-half kickoff and established good field position. Then, facing third and five, DiMarco dropped back to pass. His speedy wide receiver, Jason Fiorelli, had raced past the defender and was open downfield. DiMarco let loose with a long spiraling pass, and the crowd stood in anticipation. But the ball fell short. Fiorelli reached back to grab it, but the defender was there first, hauling it in for an interception and stopping Hudson City’s drive.
Manny shook his head hard. “Man, that was a sure touchdown.”
“Not enough of an arm,” Donald said. “That was just too far.”
The game remained a defensive struggle, with neither team able to get past midfield. Finally, midway through the fourth quarter, DiMarco found Fiorelli on a shorter pass across the middle. Fiorelli streaked downfield, getting a crucial block from another of the ends, and ran untouched into the end zone. DiMarco’s kick tied the score at 7–7, and the Hudson City players and fans went wild.
“All right!” Manny shouted. “Let’s hold ’em now. Hold ’em on defense and get that ball back.”
Donald grabbed his arm. “Forget the yelling. It’s up to us.”
“What is?”
“The kickoff. Duh. We scored. Let’s get out there.”
Manny had been so excited by the touchdown that he’d forgotten what came next. He sprinted onto the field, determined to make up for that opening kickoff.
“Let’s go!” Donald shouted.
“In their faces!” Manny shouted back. He looked up at the scoreboard. Nearly four minutes still remained; plenty of time for Hudson City to get that ball back and win the game.
“Penetrate!” came the call from the sideline. Manny glared down the field and exhaled furiously.
There was the kick, straight and high. The receiver was under it at about the 15-yard line. Manny and Donald sprinted up the field.
That same blocker was ahead of him, but Manny was thinking this time. He gave a quick feint toward the sideline, then burst past the blocker, angling toward the middle of the field. The ball carrier was headed his way, and Manny had a clear shot. His eyes opened wide and he darted toward the runner, intent on stopping him cold. Two more steps and he’d have him.
The
crack
of shoulder pad against shoulder pad sent Manny sailing, spinning to the ground as the runner brushed past him. Manny had been blind-sided by another blocker just as he was about to make the tackle.
Not again!
Manny thought as he rolled to his feet, sprinting behind the return man who was now 20 yards ahead of him with a clear field ahead. Even DiMarco couldn’t catch him this time, and the runner reached the end zone and held the ball above his head. His teammates raced over and surrounded him, jumping up and down and yelling.
Manny stood there stunned, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. A South Bergen player, jogging onto the field for the extra point, gave Manny a shove. “Get off the field.”
“Screw you,” Manny said, but he turned and ran off.
The coaches were shaking their heads and frowning. “You guys are killing us,” Coach Reynolds said in the direction of the kickoff-team players who were scrunched together near the bench.
Manny took a seat and left his helmet on, staring at the ground. Two kickoffs, two letdowns. Both times the ball carrier had run right through Manny’s territory.
“Let’s get it back,” the coach shouted toward the field. He clapped his hands. “Plenty of time left. Let’s go!”