Football Double Threat by Matt Christopher Page A

Pythons quarterback, walked by.
    “Save it for the game, will you?” he said. “Coach Royson and Coach Ward want us on the field right now!”
    Rocky and Bobby stopped horsing around immediately. While Rocky stowed the player in his locker, Bobby grabbed their helmets. He tossed Rocky his and then together they ran out of the locker room and toward the gridiron.
    “Seriously, Rocky,” Bobby said as they jogged onto the field, “I’m dying to hear that song.”
    “Seriously, Bobby,” Rocky replied, “get your own player and you can!”

2
    T he two boys lined up on the field along with their teammates for the pre-game warm-ups.
    “Ready, Pythons?” Coach Royson called. “Jumping jacks! Begin!”
    The players moved in unison, swinging their arms over their heads and down to their sides, opening and closing their legs, and giving out a loud grunt each time they’d finished a set of ten jacks. Five sets later, they ran in place, lifting their knees as high as possible. Then they did a quick-feet/push-up combo — five seconds of rapid footfalls followed by a drop to the ground for two push-ups. After a series of leg stretches, they followed Mr. Ward, the assistant coach and head of the defensive squad, in a lap around the field.
    “Let’s hear it!” Coach Ward called. “Py-
thons
! Py-
thons
!”
    The team picked up the chant. When they passed the bleachers, Pythons fans joined in. Rocky grinned. That chant did just as much to get his blood pumping as the run and his favorite song had done.
    Rocky was breathing hard when he finished the lap. Sweat pricked his hairline. It was a warm afternoon by September standards, but he didn’t mind. The heat made his muscles feel loose, and, as for the sweat, heck, what was the point of playing sports if you didn’t need to shower after a game?
    He paced up and down the sideline. As he did, he passed the Pythons’ newest member, a wiry boy named Jared. Unlike the other players, who were gathered in small groups and talking in loud, excited voices, Jared was sitting alone and silent on the bench.
    Rocky didn’t know much about Jared other than that he’d played soccer for a few years before switching to football this season. Now he was the Pythons kicker, a position he seemed well suited for.
    But not really interested in,
Rocky couldn’t help thinking as he eyed the other boy’s slack posture and stony expression.
Wonder why he even joined the team?
    Fweet!
A sharp blast from the official’s whistle sent all thoughts other than football from Rocky’s mind. It was game time at last!
    The Pythons were playing the Shooting Stars, a tough but not impossible-to-beat team. The Pythons won the coin toss and elected to receive first.
    Rocky was a wide receiver, but he was also on the kickoff return team. He hurried onto the field with the other members of the special squad. The official placed the ball in the tee, jogged backward out of the way, and blew his whistle again.
    The Stars raced forward. Their kicker’s right toe connected with the ball, sending it sailing end over end toward the waiting Pythons.
    Rocky was in the best position to make the catch. He looked the ball all the way into his hands, tucked it securely against his side, and began to run. He crossed the Pythons forty-yard line . . . the forty-five . . . the fifty . . . and had almost reached the Stars forty-five when
wham!
he was pancaked by a hulking boy in silver and blue.
    Coach Royson clapped and nodded with satisfaction. “Good run!” he called as the Pythons offense took to the field.
    Rocky stayed on the field. He was breathing hard and smiling when he joined the huddle. Jeff gave him a pat on the back. “You got us good and close, Rocky,” he said. “Let’s see what else you can do. Bootleg, with a fake handoff to Rasheed and a short pass to Rocky. Got it?”
    Rocky and the others nodded their understanding.
    Jeff clapped once and called, “Break!”
    Time to make it happen!
Rocky