Coach Hyatt Is a Riot! by Dan Gutman Page A

was Coach Hyatt. I knew because she had a big name tag on her shirt that said MY NAME IS COACH HYATT. She blew her whistle.
    â€œLine up!” Coach Hyatt barked.
    We all looked at her. I wasn’t about to line up for some lady coach. Ladies don’t know the first thing about football. My mom thinks that sacking the quarterback means you put a bag over his head.
    Like I said, moms are weird.
    Coach Hyatt blew her whistle again.
    â€œI SAID, ‘LINE UP!’”
    We all lined up. Coach Hyatt looked mean. We were all shaking and shivering and quivering.

    â€œNow listen up!” she barked. “This is my son, Wyatt. He’s on the team, whetheryou like it or not.”
    Wyatt Hyatt? I knew right away this kid was weird.
    Wyatt was a little guy. He looked like he was in first grade. Wyatt was picking his nose and wiping it on his helmet.
    â€œI hope you kids are ready to work !” barked Coach Hyatt.
    â€œUh, we’re here to play football,” I told her.
    â€œWell, you’re gonna work! And you’re gonna sweat! And you’re gonna stink! And you know what?”
    â€œWhat?” we all asked.
    â€œYou’re gonna like it!” she barked.
    Coach Hyatt was scary! Some kids werealready whimpering and saying they wanted to go home.
    â€œAren’t you taking this a little too seriously?” asked Michael. “We’re only eight years old.”
    â€œWhen I was eight,” Coach Hyatt told us, “I built a log cabin with my bare hands.”
    I didn’t know what that had to do with anything. But I wasn’t about to complain, because Coach Hyatt seemed so mean.
    â€œCan I go to the bathroom?” one kid asked.
    â€œNo!” Coach Hyatt barked. “Bathrooms are for losers. You’re weak! I’ll chew you up and spit you out. I’m gonna turn you ragamuffins into winners!”

    I didn’t know what a ragamuffin was. I figured it must be a muffin made out of rags, or a rag made out of muffins. But it didn’t matter. If winners are people who aren’t allowed to go to the bathroom, I think I’d rather be a loser.
    I didn’t even have to go to the bathroom; but after Coach Hyatt said we weren’t allowed to, suddenly I had to. I hate when that happens.
    She made us run all the way around the field, which is like a million hundred miles. Then she made us run all the way around the field backward , which is even farther. Then she made us run all the way around the field sideways!
    We were huffing and puffing and holding our sides. When we finished, Wyatt picked his nose. There was a big jug of Gatorade on the bench, but Coach Hyatt wouldn’t let us drink any.
    â€œCan we take a break now?” Ryan asked.
    â€œNo!” Coach Hyatt barked. “Breaks are for losers.”
    I thought I was gonna die.

3
Cheerleaders Who Throw Up
    When my mom dropped me off for our next practice, she didn’t even try to hug me. Some of the ragamuffins from the first practice didn’t come back. I guess they couldn’t take it.
    Coach Hyatt wasn’t there yet. But you’ll never believe in a million hundred years who pulled up in a blue minivan.
    A bunch of girls !
    It was that annoying Andrea Young, her crybaby friend Emily, and some other girly girls. They piled out of the minivan and came over to us.
    â€œHi, Arlo!” said Andrea, who calls me by my real name because she knows I don’t like it. Andrea was wearing earrings that were little footballs and a necklace shaped like a goalpost.
    â€œWhat are YOU doing here?” I asked.
    â€œWe’re cheerleaders!” said Emily.
    I knew Andrea took ballet classes after school. She takes Irish step dancing, too. And modern dance. And clog dancing. * That girl sure likes to dance. But I didn’t know she did cheerleading, too.
    â€œSince when do you do cheerleading?” I asked Andrea.
    â€œI’ve been cheering since I was four years