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Authors: Tiki Barber

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Tiki took it from there, grabbing a screen pass and following his blocking down to the seven. From there, Manny found Luke Frazier in the end zone, and the Pulaski lead was down to one point—21–20!

The fourth quarter began with a Wildcats drive that
ended up with a long field goal, extending the lead to 24–20. On their next three drives, the Eagles ate up a lot of ground, but they also ate up a lot of clock, and did not manage to score. The Wildcats, too, ate up the clock with their running game, which had just enough power to keep possession of the ball. On this hot day in early October, the Eagles defense, which had been on the field most of the game, was starting to wilt.

Finally the Eagles held on a big fourth-down play and took over at their own thirty-five with two minutes and twenty seconds left in the game.

Manny went to the air. Scrambling away from the blitzing Wildcats defense, he found Frank Amadou for twenty-five yards, then Luke Frazier for another ten. Now, at the Pulaski thirty, Coach Wheeler called Tiki's number for a quick dump pass in the flat.

They had one time-out left, so if he was tackled in the middle of the field, they could still stop the clock and have time for a few more plays. If he missed it, the clock would stop on the incompletion and it would still only be second down.

Tiki grabbed the pass, and deked his way for a first down. But instead of just going down, he decided to go for the kill right then. He fought like crazy for a few extra yards, staying up while more and more Wildcats defenders hit him.

It was a bad decision. One of those defenders grabbed
the ball and stripped it out of Tiki's hands! It flew into the air and was grabbed by another Pulaski player, who dropped to the ground with it, ending the play.

It was over!

Or was it? Ronde looked up at the clock. One minute forty seconds left, and they had only one time-out. They called it on first down. On second down the Wildcats quarterback took a knee. Ronde wondered if he'd do the same on third down. If he did, the clock would count down to almost nothing. Pulaski would have to punt, but if Ronde couldn't run it back for a touchdown, the Eagles would lose, because there would be no time left to run a play!

Yes, the Wildcats might play it that way, but Ronde thought not. They didn't want to put the game in his hands, because Ronde Barber had beaten them before. He thought they'd try to run the ball for a first down, rather than take a knee for the third time.

He didn't even bother to cover his man. He knew they wouldn't be thinking pass, because an incomplete pass would stop the clock, and they wanted it to run out.

He was right. Leaving his man alone, he darted into the backfield and hit the ballcarrier from behind just as he took the handoff. The ball flew from his hands, and into the waiting arms of Rob Fiorilla.

Ronde saw his eyes widen in surprise. Rob was not used to having the ball in his hands, and he obviously didn't know what to do with it.

“HERE!!” Ronde shouted, waving his arms wildly.

Rob came to just in time, and lateraled the ball to Ronde just as two Wildcats linemen slammed into him.

Ronde took the toss and was off to the races. Taller players with longer strides came after him, but none of them could catch him. Ronde never stopped until he'd run past the end zone and jumped into the padded wall separating the field from the bleachers.

Game over! Eagles 26, Pulaski 24!

Ronde had done it. He'd answered Coach Wheeler's challenge to be the one who changed the big game. He'd grabbed it just before it had gotten out of reach, and he'd snatched it back for his team. Now his teammates carried him off the field. He was their hero, at least for today.

He, not Tiki. The little guy had come through. And they'd never seen him coming.

CHAPTER TWELVE
THE ULTIMATE GOAL

TIKI WAS AS THRILLED BY THE VICTORY AS ANY
of them—those wildly cheering, noisy, raucous boys on the bus back to Hidden Valley. It was a great win for the team, over their biggest local rival. It ended a string of three straight away games against last year's play-off opponents. Coming up was a string of five straight games against weaker competition that the Eagles could reasonably expect to win, if they didn't totally mess up.

By the time they met the Bears, Wildcats, and Rockets again, it would be the last three games of the season, and they would all be in the friendly confines of Hidden Valley field. The Eagles rookies would have had more than half a season's worth of experience. The team would be running on all cylinders, a well-oiled machine with lots of momentum. They would have every chance in the world at going undefeated.

The team's future was rosy, and all the Eagles knew it. What had been dangerous overconfidence was now easy, well-earned faith in themselves.

Still, inside, down deep inside where the others
couldn't see, Tiki was uneasy. He knew in his heart of hearts that he hadn't played his best, that his mistakes during the game and his lack of focus in practice had nearly cost the Eagles this latest of their three straight wins. The undefeated season of their dreams would have been gone forever, and their hopes for a state championship would have been seriously damaged.

Yes, they'd all been lucky. Tiki most of all.
Good old Ronde
, thought Tiki.
Without him we'd never have pulled it off these past three weeks.
Definitely Ronde had been the team MVP so far.

Tiki was sorry now he'd given his twin such a hard time over the growth spurt thing. Ronde didn't need to be big to make a difference in a football game—or in life, either. And of course he would catch up eventually, Tiki knew that. It was inevitable.

They got off the team bus and were driven home by Paco's mom, who dropped them off on her way. “Great going, you guys!” she called out her window as she waved good-bye.

“Go, Eagles!” the twins both shouted after her.

“Go, Eaaagllles,” came Paco's retreating reply as the car drove away.

The boys stared at their house. It was dark. Their mom worked late on Friday evenings at her second job. Dinner would be in the oven, ready for heating up. Tiki wished she didn't have to work so hard. Then she could come to
more of their games, like she used to when she had only the one job.

“Life is expensive,” she always said. “Got to pay those bills if we expect to get along.”

He was glad they had good news for her tonight. It always made her happy when the Eagles won, and when her boys played well.

“You were right, Ronde,” Tiki said as they opened the door and went inside.

“About what?”

“About good things coming in small packages.”

“Oh. That. Yeah, well…”

“You won us that game, Ronde. Without you we might be 1–3 right now.”

Ronde shrugged it off. “Yeah, I guess.” He went and took their dinners out of the oven. “Mac and cheese!” he said, breaking into a wide grin. It was their all-time favorite, and they got it about twice a week.

“Listen, I know I didn't do that great today,”

“I didn't say that,” Ronde pointed out.

“You didn't have to,” Tiki said. “I know when I'm playing proud and when I'm not.”

“I guess it's easier to say it than to do it,” Ronde said, turning the oven on to heat up their food.

“You got that right.” Tiki went to the fridge. “What're you drinking?”

“We got grape juice?”

“Grape or orange, or else iced tea.”

“Grape.”

Tiki was just pouring out their drinks when Ronde said, “Hey, what was that about, after I ran back that kickoff for the TD?”

“What was what about?”

“You said ‘That's it!' or something like that.”

“Oh, yeah.” Tiki grinned. “You gave me the answer to the hardest question this week.”

“You mean for your column?”

“Actually, this one's not going into the column, but I've been thinking on it all week.”

“What was it?”

“I can't talk about it.”

“Huh? Why not?”

“Sworn to secrecy.”

Ronde frowned. He didn't like it when they had secrets from each other. Neither did Tiki, but in this case he couldn't help it. Cootie had begged him not to tell anyone, especially Ronde.

“About that column of yours,” Ronde said, zoning in on Tiki as he checked the oven. “What's up with it?”

“What do you mean, what's up with it?” Tiki asked.

“How long are you gonna be doing it? I mean, I've got to be honest, your game is suffering, and your grades aren't doing too good either.”

“I know it,” Tiki said. “Thing is, I like doing it. Kids
look up to you, you know? They respect you for something besides being a good athlete.”

“People respect you for that anyway,” Ronde pointed out. Neither of them was touching their food. This conversation had suddenly turned deadly serious. “You get good grades, you're a good friend, a good person, you're funny—not as funny as me, but funny. Man, you've got a lot going for you. You don't need to be a guidance counselor for free.”

Tiki sighed. “I hear what you're saying,” he said. “But I promised Laura I'd do the column. It's not that easy to back out. You know how she is, and I promised I would.”

“Talk to her, dude. I'm sure she's an Eagles fan. She wouldn't want us to go down in flames. Tell her it's just too much for you. After all, it's the truth, isn't it?” He paused, waiting for Tiki to reply. “Isn't it?” he repeated, staring his brother down.

“You're right, man. I know you're right,” Tiki admitted. “But I can't back out just like that.”

“You've got to do it, and fast,” Ronde said. “Kids on the team are already grumbling about it behind your back.”

“Which kids?” Tiki demanded.

“Can't tell,” Ronde said. “Sworn to secrecy.”

Tiki frowned. Ronde had him, and he knew it. “Tell you what,” Tiki said, “I'll write one last column, and
that's it. I'll beg off … for the rest of the football season. I'll tell Laura I can start the column again after that.”

“There, you see? That's a good solution!” Ronde said, breaking into a smile. “Man, you're not as dumb as you look.”

“I'll do it, on one condition,” Tiki said, breaking into a sly grin himself.

“Condition? What condition?”

“That you agree to write the column with me.” Tiki sat back and folded his hands on his chest. “There. That's my offer. Take it or leave it.”

“Nuh-uh, no way!” Ronde said, pounding the table. “Who said you got to set conditions?”

“I say. Now, what do you say?”

“I say no. Didn't you hear me the first time?”

“Okay, then,” Tiki said, grabbing his fork and spearing some mac and cheese with it. “I guess I'll just keep writing the column, then.”

“Tiki, think of the team!”

“YOU think of the team,” Tiki said. “If you want us to win, just agree to write the column with me.”

“That's blackmail!”

“Come on, Ronde,” Tiki said, softening. “You know you're the one who always has the best advice for people. Remember Cody last week? I'm telling you, dude, you're a natural!”

“I'm not that good at writing,” Ronde said, hesitating.

“I can help you get better at it,” Tiki offered. “Hey, I won the essay prize. What better writing coach could you want?”

“I don't know…”

“Don't you want to be a better writer?”

“Tiki!”

“Don't you want to help kids solve their problems?”

“Come on…”

“Don't you want to have something else you're good at, in case we don't make the NFL someday?”

“Now, that's going too far,” Ronde said. “We
are
making the NFL.
Both
of us. No doubts allowed.”

“Fine, fine. Just agree to do the column with me. Please? It'll be fun. You'll see. Twice as easy with two of us doing it, and twice as fun.” He held out his hand for Ronde to shake.

Ronde frowned. “You owe me for this, big-time,” he said, taking Tiki's hand and sealing the deal with their private handshake.

“You won't be sorry, Ronde,” Tiki said.

“I'm already sorry.”

“Now,” Tiki said, not listening anymore, “how am I going to answer this student …?”

Dear Cootie,

I've been thinking and thinking about your problem, and here's my best advice: Just be yourself, and be proud of
who you are. That's what it all comes down to. Here's what I mean.

My brother is smaller than I am, but he always says “Good things come in small packages.” Yesterday he made a big play in the game
because
he was so small. “They never saw me coming,” he told me afterward. And that made me think of you, Cootie.

Don't let them see you coming. They're expecting you to get upset, to cry, to run away when they bully you. Don't give them what they're expecting. Keep them off balance. Laugh at yourself along with them! Or say something they don't understand, something that makes them scratch their heads and think, “What did he mean by that?”

Don't get down in the gutter with them either. Show them you're made of better stuff than that, and that you won't sink to their level. Don't talk trash about them behind their backs, because sooner or later they'll find out and they'll know you were upset by their bullying, which is just what they want. So don't give it to them.

It's not everyone who's brave enough not to care what people think or say about them. It's not everyone who's brave enough to wear a full-body eagle suit and dance around in front of hundreds of people. It's not everyone who's brave enough to show their passion for their favorite team the way you do.

You're brave, Cootie. So show them that. Show them all. Sooner or later they'll feel ashamed for making fun of such a brave kid, and they'll quit doing it. That's my advice, for what it's worth.

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