Game Changers (10 page)

Ben still thought Shawn might try to call and apologize on Sunday for what he said. But he didn't. Didn't apologize at school on Monday.

So just like that, things had changed between them.

Because of one dropped pass.

They didn't talk about it on the phone, didn't talk about it at school, didn't talk about it at practice. It wasn't as if they were
not
talking. They didn't ignore each other in the hall or on the field. But now it was as if the good stuff that started to happen between them — that day over pizza, then at Shawn's field when he shared his secret about not wanting to be a quarterback, at McBain Field — had never happened.

Like they'd de-friended each other.

Anybody watching them at practice before their next game, against Parkerville, wouldn't have thought anything had changed between them. Ben knew better. So did Sam and Coop. And Lily, because Ben would tell her all about it when he got home.

“You gotta stop worrying about this guy,” Sam said to Ben at The Rock on Saturday morning, the two of them first to
show up for the Parkerville game. “You keep making excuses for him, but I keep telling
you
: If he could chump on you like that, he was never going to be your friend.”

“Maybe he doesn't know how to be a friend any more than he knows how to be a quarterback,” Ben said. “Maybe he just has to learn how.”

Sam said, “Give it up.” Held up a hand and said, “I know, I know, he's our teammate.”

“He is.”

“And he had a chance to act like one, and didn't,” Sam said. “Maybe that was the real choke job last Saturday, a bigger one, because being a friend is more important than winning a game.”

Ben said, “How about we just talk about the game we're going to play and not the one we played last week.”

“Now you're making sense,” Sam said. “I am
so
down with that.”

Ben knew something: Once Sam dug in, try moving him. Especially when he thought someone had been disloyal. Sam cared a lot about sports, as much as Ben did. But he didn't say things just to sound good. He really did care about friendship and loyalty more.

That was his real Bro Code, even if he didn't talk about his as much as Coop did.

Ben did bring it all back to football now, and not just because he wanted to change the subject from Shawn O'Brien.

He said, “My dad says you're never as bad as you look when you're losing and never as good as you look when you're winning. So how about we find out today if that's true about the winning part?”

Sam reached out and tapped him some fist, and then ran down the field and Ben threw him the ball he'd been holding in his right hand. And just like that, it wasn't last Saturday anymore. It was this Saturday. This game against Parkerville. The only one that mattered.

But he knew that the Rams getting their first win of the season wasn't going to be easy. The Parkerville Patriots would probably have won the Bantam championship the year before if their quarterback, Robbie Burnett, hadn't broken his wrist with three games to go. Robbie had been the best quarterback in the league last season, as big as Shawn, with an even better arm. And Robbie was much better running the ball. The whole package. He really was a born quarterback. Last year's Patriots had only lost once before Robbie got hurt, then never won another game after he did.

He was back now, though. According to Coop, who had a cousin on the Parkerville team, Robbie was throwing and running better than ever and the Patriots had started their season with two straight wins.

“You can even tell how good he is watching him warm up,” Coop said.

“We're still winning today,” Ben said.

“Yeah,” Coop said, “if
our
quarterback shows up.”

“Maybe today's the day Shawn surprises us,” Ben said.

“You mean he's going to be a good player
and
a good guy?” Coop said.

“Football's not a game of one-on-one,” Ben said, “our quarterback against theirs.”

Coop walked away, saying, “Good thing.”

When Coach O'Brien spoke to them behind the bench right before the game, he kept things brief. And got Ben to thinking all over again about how even as he liked Shawn less and less, he liked his dad more and more.

“We're getting better,” Coach said. “I know you still can't see that in that left-hand column where the wins go. But I can see it. I see it in the way you guys fight, how hard you work at practice. And I can see the thing coaches always look for when a team is scuffling: I see the way you're hanging together.”

Coop and Ben were in the back of the circle and now Coop whispered, “Well, some of us are.”

Ben put an elbow into his ribs to shut him up.

Coach said, “So we start our season all over again today. Everybody on this team just try to win a battle on each play with somebody on the other side of the line of scrimmage. Do that the whole game and no way those guys beat us.”

He waved as a way of bringing them in closer.

“Listen, I don't like to make guarantees,” he said. “I'm not Rex Ryan of the Jets. But there
is
a method to what seems like Coach Ryan's madness. He makes his guarantees to let his players know he believes in them. I believe in you. We're winning today. Like I hear you guys say to each other all the time: Hundred percent.”

Then it was 20–0 at the half.

For Parkerville.

 

When they were coming off the field, everybody acting as if the game was already over, feeling as if they were behind more than they actually were the way Robbie Burnett was torching them, Coop said, “Hey, I've got a guarantee.”

Sam said, “Do me a favor: Don't be funny right now. Which for you really isn't a challenge, now that I think about it.”

“Wasn't gonna be funny,” Coop said.

Ben said, “So, what's your guarantee?”

“That the only way we come back on these guys is if their quarterback comes and plays for us the second half and ours goes over and plays for them.”

Ben had been right about one thing with Shawn: He
had
surprised them. By playing even worse, after a decent start, than he had over the first two games.

He did make some solid throws early, to Sam, to Darrelle, to Justin, and the Rams were driving on their first possession of the game. But then on a first down from the Patriots' nineteen-yard line, he floated one to Sam on the sideline that hung in the air like a kite, the Patriots' outside linebacker stepped in and returned it all the way down the sideline for a touchdown.

It was mostly Robbie after that, running and passing, making their defense look bad, like he'd moved up to a new league this year but the guys trying to stop him should still be in Bantam. He led his team on two long touchdown drives and would have had one more if his fullback hadn't fumbled on a first-and-goal play from the three-yard line.

The Rams had one last chance to get on the board right before halftime, Ben wide open in the end zone after they'd
pretty much used running plays to move down the field. But Shawn — who hadn't completed a single pass the whole second quarter — missed him by a good five yards, the ball ending up in the hands of the Patriots' free safety instead.

When they got to the sideline, Shawn came over to Ben and said, “Try running the right route next time.”

Loud enough for everybody on the team to hear. Probably loud enough for
both
teams to hear.

In a quieter voice Ben said, “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Actually, I think my mom and dad heard you,” Ben said, not able to stop himself from at least saying that.

“I was expecting you to cut to the corner,” Shawn said.

Ben didn't want to get into this with him, not now, not down three touchdowns, not in front of the whole team. Knowing at the same time he'd never call a teammate out like this.

All he said was, “The play was for me to run to an open spot.”

“Next time try to fake out the defense, not me,” Shawn said, and walked away from him to go get a drink of Gatorade.

Ben wondered what Coach would have done if he'd heard what Shawn said, but he hadn't, he was down talking to the refs, there had been some problem with the clock right at the end of the half.

When Coach jogged back over and got with the Rams, he didn't talk about the way his own quarterback had played, just focused on Robbie Burnett, who'd thrown for one touchdown and run for another, explained what they needed to do to
stop him in the second half if they were going to get back in the game.

“We're gonna start blitzing him every chance we get,” Coach O'Brien said, “see if we can get him out of his comfort zone that way. It's a risky way to play, especially against a kid that good, and one who can run around the way he can. But we gotta try something.”

On offense, he said, they were going to come out throwing, Coach acting in that moment as if the incompletions they'd all seen, the two interceptions Shawn had thrown, hadn't happened.

Coop whispered, “Is there some other game he's been watching?”

Ben elbowed him again, even though he knew Cooper Manley was just saying out loud what everybody else on the team had to be thinking.

Why keep throwing when your quarterback couldn't today?

Coach O'Brien wrapped up his talk this way: “They scored 20? We just gotta find a way to hold them there and score 21 ourselves.”

As they came out of the circle and took the field, Coop said, “Does he think the other team is going home?”

“If you give up on me, or even
act
like you're giving up,” Ben said, “I will give you a beatdown.”

It got a grin out of Coop. “Worse than the one Robbie Burnett is giving us?”

But they still couldn't make a dent on Parkerville in the third quarter. Once the Rams started blitzing, at least making Robbie start to miss a little, their coach seemed content to
have them just keep running the ball, obviously thinking that the way the Rams had looked on offense, twenty points was more than enough to win.

Maybe thinking three points was enough to win.

Shawn did manage to complete a couple of short passes. But when the Rams started to get a good drive going, he threw another interception, missing Justin badly.

Finally on the last play of the quarter, the Rams caught what felt like their first break of the day. Robbie dropped back to throw, looking like he wanted to cross them up, throw long, close out the Rams once and for all. But he never saw Sam Brown coming all the way from safety, flying in from his blind side, knocking the ball out of Robbie's hand, recovering it himself at the Rams' thirty-five-yard line.

Quarter over.

Even though Sam's play might have kept them in the game, Ben looked around and saw the Rams hanging their heads more now than they had at the half, as if Sam's play hadn't kept them in anything, as if the game really were over, whether they had the ball back or not.

Ben went and got himself a quick drink of water, was standing with his back to the field when he felt the tap on his shoulder.

Coach.

“Listen, I know it's a lousy spot. But I'm gonna give you some snaps. I just told Shawn.”

At first Ben wasn't sure he'd heard him right. Looked down the bench and saw Shawn at the other end of it, hands on hips, glaring at his dad. Or Ben. Or both of them.

Ben said, “You're putting me in … at quarterback?”

“I am. Shake things up a little.”

Sam Brown was behind Coach, hearing what Ben was hearing. Throwing a fist in the air. Not caring if the rest of the team saw.

Ben could feel his heart pounding. Wanted to throw a fist himself and yell,
Yes
. But he just kept nodding his head, taking in everything Coach was saying to him about playing as if the game were 0–0, somehow convincing his teammates that they still had a chance.

When Coach walked away, Sam and Coop were there, both giving Ben quick low fives.

It was Coop who said, “Welcome to McBain Field.”

“At last,” Sam said.

Coach O'Brien sent Ben in with the first three plays, all passes, the first to Sam.

Perfect.

Ben wasn't looking to deliver any pep talks in the huddle like the one Coach had just given him. Just looking to deliver good passes. So he knelt down, looked up at his teammates, gave them the play and the snap count, then just added one thing:

“Let's play like we're in the street, and we're not ready to go home yet.” They couldn't see him through his face mask, grinning at them as he said, “Even though it
is
getting pretty late.”

The first throw was supposed to be a simple one, Ben rolling to his right as if he were going to run the ball, then pulling up and throwing to Sam in the right flat. But he nearly blew it over Sam's head, too geeked up to make the first throw perfect.

Only his buddy Sam Brown wasn't going to let him start with an incompletion. Sam went up as high as he could,
brought the ball down with his big hands, broke a tackle as he turned upfield, ran all the way to midfield.

First down.

“Thank you,” Ben said when Sam got back to the huddle.

“We're a team,” Sam said. “Remember?”

The second play was supposed to be a screen to Darrelle on the left, but the Patriots' middle linebacker saw it coming, breaking through the blocking in front of Darrelle as if it wasn't there. Ben was barely able to pull the ball down in time, sprint to his right. As he did, he saw Sam coming from all the way across the field, running to an open spot near the sideline. This time Ben's throw, on the run, wasn't high. Just money. Sam kept both feet inbounds like a pro. Twelve yards on the play. Another first down, at the Parkerville thirty-eight-yard line.

Like that, they were moving.

The third pass was supposed to be another short pass to Darrelle. He was supposed to run to his right like he was blocking for Ben, then just slip into the defensive backfield for a little five-yard throw, see if he could make something out of it from there.

But before Ben brought his arm up to throw, he saw the linebacker coming up to cover Darrelle slip and fall. When Darrelle turned for the ball, Ben just used his left arm to wave him deep. Like this really was street ball now, and they were both making the play up as they went along.

The kind of play where Ben had always been at his best.

Darrelle took off. Ben could see the rush coming at him from the side, had to turn the ball loose before he was ready,
and before Darrelle was ready. So he put some extra air under the ball, hoping Darrelle would run under it. Hoping he hadn't led him by too much.

The Parkerville safety, a fast guy, tried to recover, catch up with Darrelle before it was too late. But it already was. Ben hadn't led him too much. Darrelle ran under the ball at about the Parkerville fifteen, bobbling it slightly as it came down into his hands, looking as if he were about to drop it. Ben's heart dropped at the same time. But he kept watching as Darrelle pressed the ball to his chest with both hands, ran the rest of the way to the end zone without anybody putting a hand on him.

They were on the board.

Ben wasn't sure what his best time might be in a forty-yard dash. But by the time Darrelle turned around, Ben was on him better than the Parkerville safety had been, halfway into a full, flying chest bump.

“What's good?” Darrelle said.

“Us,” Ben said.

“You're right,” Darrelle said. “I'm
not
ready to go home yet.”

The conversion happened to be a play Ben and Sam loved to mess around with at McBain, even though there was no way Coach O'Brien could have known that. Ben just took a one-step drop, lobbed the ball over the defensive linemen and over everybody, like he was Dwayne Wade firing up a lob for LeBron to dunk.

The Parkerville cornerback on Sam could jump. Just not like Sam Brown could jump. When he came down with the
ball in the corner of the end zone, he had both feet inbounds, by a lot, and now the score was Parkerville 20, Rockwell 8.

Still ten minutes left at The Rock.

Coop came over to Ben and said he had a thought he wanted to share.

“Thoughts are good,” Ben said, “especially for you.”

“So you want to hear it?”

“Absolutely!”

Coop said, “Let's play like total dogs the rest of the way.”

“Woof, woof,” Ben said.

Sam said he was pretty much all in with that, too. And so was Coach O'Brien, as it turned out, telling them on the sideline that he wanted Sam to try an onside kick.

 

Coach told them fast, told them without even looking at Sam, wanting everything to look normal, not wanting it to look as if he was giving them special instructions and tip off the Patriots coach on what was coming next.

“Just bounce that sucker up the field like you do in practice,” Coach said.

“Got it,” Sam said, starting back out on the field.

“Whichever side is easier for you,” Coach said, tossing Sam his kicking tee, then saying to Ben, “You go with him,” even though Ben wasn't usually on the kickoff team.

When Sam took the ball from the ref he said to Ben, “Going to you.”

“Thought you might.”

“Right or left?”

“Right.”

“Do me a favor?” Sam said quietly, setting the ball on the tee. “Stay onside.
Very
key for an onside kick. We're only gonna get one shot at this.”

The Parkerville coach either sensed something was coming, or was just playing it safe, putting a lot of receivers and running backs and defensive backs up on the line — they called them “hands guys” in football — and having only one kid way back to receive the ball if Sam kicked it deep.

Didn't matter.

The Parkerville Patriots might have suspected an onside kick was coming. What they didn't know was how good Sam was at this, that Sam could have been just as good a soccer player as he was a football player. Didn't know that Sam Brown could make any kind of ball do tricks. He caught the ball just right with the side of his foot, hitting it hard enough to make sure it went the required ten yards, somehow making the ball take one small bounce and then the big one. Just the way he wanted. Making it a kick Ben could run under like it was a pass.

He didn't catch it perfectly in stride, had to dive at the last second to catch it. That was right before what felt like half the Parkerville team fell on top of him, and began trying to rip the ball loose at the bottom of the pile.

They would have had a better chance trying to use their fingers to pull out one of his teeth.

In their league, you kicked the ball off from the forty-yard
line. The refs placed the ball at the Parkerville forty-eight. First down, Rams. Kevin Nolti brought in the first play. Quarterback draw. Kevin said, “Coach wanted me to ask you if we're having fun yet?”

Ben said, “Not as much as we're going to have.”

He dropped back like he was supposed to, added a little something extra to the play — for fun — a big pump fake like he was going to throw. Froze the up-front defense just enough as he pulled the ball down, ran into the secondary, finally got brought down from the side after gaining thirteen yards.

He looked over at the clock.

Seven minutes left.

Darrelle brought in the next play. Reverse to Sam.

“Love it,” Ben said.

Only he got overanxious as Sam ran toward him, wanting Sam to have the ball
right now
and then maybe run all day with it. Ben reached for him too soon, felt the ball coming out of his hands, had to practically bat it through the air to Sam. Too low. It hit Sam just above the knees and dropped to the ground.

Only they got another break, the ball bouncing straight back up into Sam's hands. The timing of the play was way off, but still Sam managed to make a five-yard gain out of it.

“Sorry,” Ben said in the huddle, “I nearly blew everything.”

“Can't hear a word you're saying,” Sam said.

It took them six more plays from there, more plays than Ben wanted, too much time run off the clock. But he'd learned
something from the time he started playing sports: The other team wanted to win the game, too. And the Patriots knew they were in a game now. So the Rams ran three plays and Ben threw twice, one an incompletion to a wide-open Justin Bard.

Third and goal from the nine, finally.

The pass was supposed to be a quick slant over the middle to Sam. But he and Justin collided coming off the line, so Ben had to scramble again.

To his left this time.

Still nobody open.

He reversed his field and went back to his right. Flutie time. By now Parkerville had figured out who Ben's go-to guy was, and that the guy was Sam. So they had two guys on him even after the play broke down.

It was why nobody was paying any attention to Kevin Nolti.

Standing by himself in the far left corner of the end zone.

Trying to wave his arms and not draw too much attention to himself at the same time.

Over here.

Ben saw him. In basketball they always said he could see the whole court. Whole football field, too. From where he was near the right sideline, it was a big throw, felt a little bit to him like he was going deep. And his first thought, once the ball was in the air, was that he hadn't put enough on it.

But he had and Kevin barely had to move and now it was 20–14 at The Rock. People always talked about heart in sports, but if they'd never played, they didn't know what it felt
like in a moment like this, when you felt your heart wanted to jump right out of you. That's how excited Ben was when he saw the referee on that side of the field put his arms up, signaling touchdown.

Coach crossed up Parkerville on the conversion. It was the same one-step drop as before, just no throw to Sam this time in the corner of the end zone. Ben brought the ball back down, stuck it into Darrelle's belly, Darrelle ran right over the Patriots' middle linebacker to make it 20–16.

Scoreboard said three minutes and three seconds left. Ben wondered if Coach might call for another onside kick. But he didn't. “Kick the sucker deep,” Coach said to Sam as he gathered the kick team around him. “We'll stop them and get the ball back. Offense has done its job. Now it's the D's turn.”

Grinning at them as he said, “Trust me, I've done this sort of work before.”

Ben had looked over at the sidelines a few times during the fourth quarter, just to see if Shawn might have gotten his bad attitude under control, might be cheering them on the way the rest of the guys not in the game were. But he wasn't. As usual he was standing by himself, twenty yards from his closest teammate. It was like he was saying, just with his body language — bad body language to go with his attitude — that if he couldn't be quarterback that he wasn't interested in being part of the team.

Ben thinking one time: What, now he wants to be a quarterback?

Now?

Shawn was so far down the field now he was standing near the Parkerville end zone. But right now Ben didn't have time to worry about him, or his feelings, or trying to sort out the weirdness of it all. Just worried about getting the ball back. Somehow.

It was Coop who finally did that for the Rams.

Coop in there at middle linebacker now. Him in the middle and Ben and Sam behind him at safety. The Core Four guys trying to make it happen, with just over two minutes to play now. Third and six for Parkerville from its thirty-nine. Now the Patriots were the ones who had to make a play, for the first time in the second half. They had been content to sit on the ball and sit on their lead, especially after Coach O'Brien's blitzes had nearly forced Robbie to throw a couple of interceptions early in the third quarter.

But now they had to make a play.

Robbie tried to run for it, knowing that the Rams were out of time-outs, that if he got the first down the game was probably over. And he had blockers in front of him, what looked to Ben like a convoy of them. Blockers and enough room to get to the sticks that meant first down.

Only Coop refused to let it happen. Somehow he broke through the two blockers in front of him, like a door had been opened for him just a crack. Coop broke through the two guys and dove at Robbie's ankles from behind him, got just enough of a piece to bring him down in the backfield.

Two-yard loss.

Fourth and eight.

Parkerville punt.

When Ben ran up to help Coop to his feet, Coop yelled, “I told you we had to play like dogs and then the big dog turns out to be
me
!”

Ben said, “Don't start barking just yet.”

“Dude, we got these guys,” Coop said.

“Not yet,” Ben said.

The Parkerville punter had a good leg, managed to kick the ball away from Ben, out of bounds on the Rams' side of the fifty-yard line. One minute and forty seconds to go.

Fifty-five yards to the end zone.

No time-outs.

Kevin Nolti brought in the first play, the same rollout and short toss to Sam they'd used before. And he brought in another message from Coach O'Brien.

“Coach said he has a confession to make.”

“What?”

“Said he really didn't think we had a chance when we were down twenty–zip.”

Ben threw it to Sam, who got out of bounds, stopping the clock. Darrelle ran ten yards up the middle. Coach just waved at Ben to call the next play. Ben did, a “Tight End Hook,” just a quick buttonhook to Justin for five yards. They were at the Parkerville thirty, clock running, under a minute left now.

Ben called his own number next, a quarterback sweep to the right, knowing he only needed a little daylight to pick up some yards and beat the defense to the sideline.

He did exactly that.

Parkerville twenty-two yard line, fifty seconds left, Rams still down by four.

Now Darrelle brought in the next play. Named for Sam. “Sam Streak” it was called. He was supposed to split out as wide as he could, make a quick fake to the inside, then take off — like a blue streak — down the sideline.