1
D
EE-fense! Dee fense! DEE fense!”
The crowd’s screaming was beginning to sound desperate, Keith Stedman thought, as he stood on the sideline and checked the clock for about the millionth time in the last few minutes. The clock didn’t show good news.
There was exactly one minute and ten seconds left in the game. Seventy ticks of the clock — and Keith’s team, the Bucks, trailed by four points, 21–17.
All the opposing team, the Renegades, had to do was grind out another first down, and that would be that. Bye-bye, victory; so long, championship; farewell, undefeated season.
Hello, wait until next year.
Keith wondered if losing got any easier with time. He doubted it.
The Renegade fullback plunged into the line and picked up three yards. The Buck coach, Greg Bodie, signaled for a time-out, which meant that they were down to only one. Across the field, the Renegade fans were jumping up and down and high-fiving each other.
Keith turned and looked up into the bleachers behind him. His parents and little sister, Traci, were there. Mr. Stedman looked grim, and even nine-year-old Traci, who knew roughly as much about football as she did about nuclear physics, wore an unhappy expression on her freckled face.
Next to him, Keith’s best buddy, Heck Szymanski, kicked the turf and muttered to himself. Heck was the Buck’s top running back, with great balance and the ability to shift into high gear and leave defenses in the dust … when the offense had the ball. Keith was a rangy wide receiver who knew how to run a good pattern. But neither of them could do their thing when they were standing helpless on the sideline while the clock ticked away.
“If we could just get one more shot at it,” said Heck. “We could beat these guys, I
know
it.”
Keith sighed and nodded glumly. “Yeah …
if
. But you know they’re not going to throw any passes or laterals.”
“Not unless the quarterback suddenly goes crazy,” agreed Heck. “The only chance we have is if they fumble and —”
Heck’s next words were drowned out by a roar from the Buck fans. Startled, both boys stared out on the field. While they had been talking, the Renegades had put the ball in play.
And they had
fumbled!
The fullback had failed to hang on to the handoff from the quarterback and the ball had squirted loose. A pile of players lay tangled together, some in red Buck jerseys and some in green Renegade ones. Somewhere under the pile was the ball. The referee began moving the players away while Keith and Heck watched and held their breath.
Finally the ref picked up the ball and signaled that it now belonged to the Bucks.
“YES!”
screamed Heck, as the Buck offense raced out on the field. Coach Bodie grabbed Billy Brundage, the Buck quarterback, and gave him some last-minute instructions.
As they huddled, tackle Cody Aarons clenched a fist and shook it. “We can
do
it!” he yelled.
But Keith knew it wouldn’t be easy, not with under a minute left and only one time-out to use. A field goal wouldn’t do it; the Bucks needed a touchdown. And they were sixty-five yards away from pay dirt.
Billy Brundage began by whipping a pass to Warren Flatt, the tight end. Warren ploughed ahead for twelve yards before lunging out of bounds to stop the clock.
Then Billy dropped back, faked a handoff that fooled nobody on the defense — everyone knew that Billy had to air it out — and tossed a swing pass to Heck out on the flat. Cody threw a smashing downfield block and Heck tightroped down the sideline for a gain of nine. The ball was now on the Renegade forty-four, but the clock showed just twenty seconds left.
The Bucks lined up fast. Billy called for a play that sent Keith deep on a fly pattern while Warren went over the middle. After the snap, Keith sped down-field, but a Renegade safety stayed with him step for step. Billy had to throw to the tight end, who got the first down with yards to spare, but was unable to get out of bounds. The
D
EE-fense! Dee fense! DEE fense!”
The crowd’s screaming was beginning to sound desperate, Keith Stedman thought, as he stood on the sideline and checked the clock for about the millionth time in the last few minutes. The clock didn’t show good news.
There was exactly one minute and ten seconds left in the game. Seventy ticks of the clock — and Keith’s team, the Bucks, trailed by four points, 21–17.
All the opposing team, the Renegades, had to do was grind out another first down, and that would be that. Bye-bye, victory; so long, championship; farewell, undefeated season.
Hello, wait until next year.
Keith wondered if losing got any easier with time. He doubted it.
The Renegade fullback plunged into the line and picked up three yards. The Buck coach, Greg Bodie, signaled for a time-out, which meant that they were down to only one. Across the field, the Renegade fans were jumping up and down and high-fiving each other.
Keith turned and looked up into the bleachers behind him. His parents and little sister, Traci, were there. Mr. Stedman looked grim, and even nine-year-old Traci, who knew roughly as much about football as she did about nuclear physics, wore an unhappy expression on her freckled face.
Next to him, Keith’s best buddy, Heck Szymanski, kicked the turf and muttered to himself. Heck was the Buck’s top running back, with great balance and the ability to shift into high gear and leave defenses in the dust … when the offense had the ball. Keith was a rangy wide receiver who knew how to run a good pattern. But neither of them could do their thing when they were standing helpless on the sideline while the clock ticked away.
“If we could just get one more shot at it,” said Heck. “We could beat these guys, I
know
it.”
Keith sighed and nodded glumly. “Yeah …
if
. But you know they’re not going to throw any passes or laterals.”
“Not unless the quarterback suddenly goes crazy,” agreed Heck. “The only chance we have is if they fumble and —”
Heck’s next words were drowned out by a roar from the Buck fans. Startled, both boys stared out on the field. While they had been talking, the Renegades had put the ball in play.
And they had
fumbled!
The fullback had failed to hang on to the handoff from the quarterback and the ball had squirted loose. A pile of players lay tangled together, some in red Buck jerseys and some in green Renegade ones. Somewhere under the pile was the ball. The referee began moving the players away while Keith and Heck watched and held their breath.
Finally the ref picked up the ball and signaled that it now belonged to the Bucks.
“YES!”
screamed Heck, as the Buck offense raced out on the field. Coach Bodie grabbed Billy Brundage, the Buck quarterback, and gave him some last-minute instructions.
As they huddled, tackle Cody Aarons clenched a fist and shook it. “We can
do
it!” he yelled.
But Keith knew it wouldn’t be easy, not with under a minute left and only one time-out to use. A field goal wouldn’t do it; the Bucks needed a touchdown. And they were sixty-five yards away from pay dirt.
Billy Brundage began by whipping a pass to Warren Flatt, the tight end. Warren ploughed ahead for twelve yards before lunging out of bounds to stop the clock.
Then Billy dropped back, faked a handoff that fooled nobody on the defense — everyone knew that Billy had to air it out — and tossed a swing pass to Heck out on the flat. Cody threw a smashing downfield block and Heck tightroped down the sideline for a gain of nine. The ball was now on the Renegade forty-four, but the clock showed just twenty seconds left.
The Bucks lined up fast. Billy called for a play that sent Keith deep on a fly pattern while Warren went over the middle. After the snap, Keith sped down-field, but a Renegade safety stayed with him step for step. Billy had to throw to the tight end, who got the first down with yards to spare, but was unable to get out of bounds. The
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