Two-Minute Drill - Mike Lupica [21]
He felt much better about the B across the room.
That night, after talking to Mr. Dykes on the telephone, Mr. and Mrs. Conlan made it official that Chris could stay on the team. The next day Chris scored two touchdowns as the Eagles beat the Jets, 12-6.
Scott didn’t play a single down, just watched from the sidelines, helmet on his head the whole time, standing about twenty yards from Mr. Dolan, trying not to cheer for Chris every single time he made a good play, because that made him feel more like a cheerleader than a teammate.
When the game was over, Chris ran straight for Scott, so he could bump him some fist.
“First the quiz, now the game,” Scott said. “You’re on a roll, dude.”
Chris shook his head slowly from side to side. “We’re on a roll,” he said. “You and me, we’re a team now.”
In the classroom, Scott wanted to say to him.
In the classroom we’re a team.
Never on the field.
They won the next Saturday, against the Bears, and then the Saturday after that, against the Rams, to make it 3-0 for the season.
Chris was great against the Bears, even throwing a touchdown pass to Jimmy Dolan. But it was Grant Dillon, their fullback, a guy usually only in there to block in the backfield for Chris or Jeremy Sharp, who saved them against the Rams. Jeremy had rolled his ankle early in the fourth quarter and had to sit out the rest of the game. After that, Chris was the one running with the ball—when he wasn’t trying an occasional pass, even though Mr. Dolan liked passing about as much as he liked referees.
The Rams were ahead, 6-0.
By the time the Eagles got the ball with two minutes left, the Ram defenders had figured out that if they sent everybody after Chris on every play and double-covered Jimmy when he went out for a pass, they were going to win the game.
But on third-and-four from the Eagles’ forty-yard line, Chris crossed them up.
Big-time.
He took the snap and started rolling to his right. If you had been watching the game, it looked like every sweep he had been running to that side all day. Suddenly, though, he stopped, turned and threw the ball back across the field to Grant, who was wide open on the left sideline, nothing but green grass stretched out ahead of him.
Grant wasn’t the fastest guy on their team. In fact, next to Scott, he was probably the slowest. But with most of the Rams chasing Chris, and Jimmy Dolan having taken his two defenders deep down the right side, he was in the clear.
The only two Rams with a chance were the ones down the field with Jimmy. But Jimmy blocked one of the guys somehow. Like he was a streak of light, Chris appeared out of nowhere, thirty yards from the spot where he’d released the ball, to take down the other.
Grant ended up running sixty yards for the touchdown that made it 6-6, and Chris threw a pass to Jimmy for the conversion. The Eagles had won again.
When Mr. Dolan gathered the team around him at midfield after the game, he said, “This game is the one I’ve been talking about since the start of practice.” He tapped the top of Grant’s helmet lightly with his knuckle, like he was knocking on a door. “And this guy right here is the player I’ve been saying I want you all to be. When it was his turn to make a play, he was ready.”
Mr. Dolan stood up then, putting his big right hand out in front of him, meaning it was time for the players to bring it in.
“I want the rest of you to go home today and think about the play Grant made for us and the game he won for us,” Mr. Dolan said. “And tell yourself that you’re going to be ready when your number’s called.”
Every number except mine, Scott thought as he put his hand in there with all the rest.
In the car on the way home, Scott’s dad said, “I’m thinking about having a talk with your coach.”
Scott was still in his uniform, helmet on his lap. “Dad, no.”
“You don’t even know what I want to talk to him about,” his dad said.
“Yeah, I do. You want to get him to play me. But you always said you were never going to be one of those dads.”
“And I’m not going to be one now. I’d just sort