The Dog That Stole Football Plays (3 page)

“It must have been that old bone I found in the yard,” Harry groaned. “I just can’t make it today.”

“Oh, no!” cried Mike. And for a minute he thought he was going to get sick, too.

But the game had to go on — with or without Harry.

The Tigers were a fired-up ball team. They scored a touchdown within the first five minutes of the game.

The Jets’ defense was full of holes, and the Tigers seemed to know exactly where every one of them was.

Mike saw Curly’s triumphant smile, and could picture him already munching on the hamburg he was going to win.

Before the quarter ended, the Tigers had chalked up seven more points, 14–0.

Mike and his defensemen stood on the field, their spirits broken.

“You were crazy to take Curly up on that bet,” Butch said, glaring at Mike. “Those Tigers are just too big for us, and your
magic — or whatever it is — isn’t working.”

“I’m sorry,” said Mike. “I’m really sorry about this.”

He couldn’t tell Butch that he had depended on his dog, Harry, to help them out. Why did that dumb dog have to get sick
now
of all times?

The Tigers went into the lead in the second quarter, 21–0.

At halftime Mike sat on the bench with his head in his hands.

Mike’s father came over to the bench. “What are you doing?” he asked. “Giving up? If every guy had that attitude, our whole
country would be in a lousy mess, not only our football team.”

“But, Dad!” cried Mike. “We’re not getting anywhere! They’re bigger than we are!”

“So what? Whittle them down to your size,” said his father.

Mike thought about that a minute. “You’re right, Dad,” he said. “They’re bigger than we are, but if we give them a good fight
—”

“You’ll make it look more like a ball game,” said his father.

Mike leaped off the bench, his heart suddenly filled with new hope.

“Hey, guys!” he cried. “Let’s give those Tigers a fight the next half! Let’s show them we’re more than small guys! Let’s show
them we’ve got guts! OK!”

When the second half started, Mike said to himself,
We’re going to win without Harry. We are. We are.

They played like a changed team. They ran harder. They tackled better. They blocked. They knocked down passes. Soon they were only one touchdown behind. With
only three minutes to go, Butch looked to the sidelines and
shouted, “Mike, look who just came into the park. Your dog, Harry! Maybe he’ll bring us good luck.”

Mike’s heart leaped. “Oh, good, he’s well!” he cried. “But we’re doing all right without him.”

“What?” said Butch, staring at him.

“We’re not going to depend on Harry anymore, that’s what,” Mike replied. “We’re going to play without his help.”

Mike sent a message to Harry to keep quiet for the rest of the game and then yelled, “Let’s go, guys!”

The Jets continued to play tough ball, and scored another touchdown. When the final whistle blew, the game was a tie, 21–21.

At the hamburger joint, the Jets and the Tigers each bought a big hamburger. But Mike bought an extra.

“Here,” he said, giving it to Harry. “This is a special award for you.”

“Special award?” echoed Butch. “What did he do?”

Mike smiled. “He stayed home when we needed him the most.”

His teammates looked at him curiously.

“He’s been talking funny like that through the whole game,” said Butch.

“So would you,” said Mike, “if you had a dog like Harry. Right, Harry?”

“Wuff!” said Harry.