The Walk On (19 page)

“So what did Christine tell you?”

Alex and Jonas were standing in front of their lockers the next morning. They had a few minutes before the bell for first period rang.

“She said we shouldn’t confess,” Alex said, speaking in
a hushed voice and glancing around in case anyone got too close to them. “She talked to Coach—Mr. Hillier—about it. He told her Coach Gordon won’t necessarily punish us directly, but he’ll make sure everyone on the team knows it was us and we’ll be ostracized.”

“Ostra-what?” Jonas asked.

Alex smiled. That was almost exactly what he’d said when Christine had used the word on the phone the previous night.

“It means we’ll be treated like traitors,” Alex said. “Don’t worry. I had to look it up even after Christine explained it to me.”

Jonas said nothing for a moment. “But if we don’t confess, the whole team will be running every morning.
And
Jake knows you got a thing for Christine. He might tell Matt or even Coach that you were involved.”

“He doesn’t know I have a crush on Christine,” Alex said, feeling his face flush.

“Alex,
everyone
knows you have a crush on Christine. You
should
have a crush on Christine.”

“Yeah, well, I think
she’s
got a crush on Jake.”

“She’ll get over it.”

Alex didn’t answer that. He was thinking about what Christine had said about the whole team having to run. “Mr. Hillier told Christine that Coach Gordon will give up the running thing quickly because in the end it will hurt the team. She says we have to just stay cool and ride this out.”

“Easy for her to say,” Jonas said.

The trip to Main Line Prep on Friday proved difficult in more ways than one.

To begin with—rain. It was one of those steady, dreary, all-day rains that started soon after Alex woke up and showed no sign of letting up throughout the morning and afternoon.

And then—traffic. They thought they had planned for traffic. They left school at four o’clock. Maybe fifty rain-soaked students were standing outside to cheer them on as they boarded the buses: one for the offense and offensive coaches, another for the defense, and another still for the band and the cheerleaders.

The plan was to arrive at about five, relax inside for about thirty minutes, and then go out for initial warm-ups at five-thirty. Everyone was taped and in uniform—except for pads and helmets—since the visitors’ locker room at Main Line
Prep was, according to Buddy Thomas, “too small to fit fifty goldfish, much less fifty football players.”

They were in trouble right from the start. The rain had caused a number of accidents and they sat on I-95 for an hour, unable to move. It was 6:05 by the time they got off the bus. Mr. Hardy had called ahead to see if kickoff could be pushed back to seven-thirty. The answer had apparently been a firm no.

Since the players sat front to back based on class, Alex and Jonas were in the back row and couldn’t hear what Mr. Hardy was telling Coach Gordon. But the word drifted back pretty quickly that Main Line didn’t want to delay the start because it didn’t want fans sitting in the rain for an extra thirty minutes.

“I wouldn’t want to sit out there any more than I had to either,” Jonas said.

“Why don’t you go tell Coach Gordon that?” Alex said.

Jonas didn’t even bother responding.

The game didn’t go a whole lot better—at least at the start. Even though Coach Gordon had told them to shake off the weather and the long bus trip and focus, there was a sense of dread on the sideline early. The only touchdown of the first half came when Matt, trying to roll out, slipped and underthrew the ball so badly that one of Main Line’s cornerbacks intercepted it easily and practically jogged into the end zone from thirty yards out to make the score 7–0 after the extra point.

There was also a play-calling issue. Coach Brotman always worked the game from the sideline so he could be in
direct contact with his linemen. Coach Hillier had called plays from the press box, where you had a better view of the entire field. Now Brotman was trying to call plays, but after Matt threw the interception, Coach Gordon told him to just worry about the O-line and he would do the play-calling. Alex was standing a few yards away and it looked to him like Coach Brotman was relieved.

Alex also heard Matt, who had taken off his helmet as he came off the field after the poor pass. “It isn’t Coach Brotman’s fault,” he said to his father. “I slipped and made a bad throw.”

Coach Gordon said nothing. He just stared out at the field, hands on hips, the rain pouring down the Bill Belichick–style hoodie he had put on because of the weather.

Halftime began with lots of shouting and profanity—most of it from the coaches. They broke into offense and defense, but the locker room was so small that the coaches had to keep their voices down. Then the room suddenly got deathly quiet.

“Any thoughts?” Coach Gordon asked the other offensive coaches.

Silence.

“I’ve got one,” Matt Gordon said.

Everyone in the room looked at him. It was usually a given that only the coaches talked at halftime. The players were expected to listen and nod. Then again, Matt wasn’t just any player.

“What is it, Gordon?” his father said.

“We need to get out of the spread option,” Matt said. “For one thing, Will and I are having a terrible time with the
snap because the ball’s so wet. For another, it’s very hard to make cuts and get to the outside on this field. If we were at home on field turf, it would be different. But this is regular grass and it’s a mess and it’s going to get worse. We’d be better off playing straight power football. Run the I-formation. Move one of the tight ends to fullback for an extra blocker and go straight at ’em. I know the guys on the line can do it. If they’re blocking straight ahead, they’re bigger and stronger than Main Line’s defense.”

Silence. Matt had basically told his father to scrap the offense he was so proud of—the offense that put his son in position to be a star.

Finally Coach Gordon blinked. The silence had probably lasted thirty seconds. It felt more like thirty minutes to Alex.

“Okay, we’ll try it for two series. But that’s all. Crenshaw, you’re the fullback, just like in goal line,” he said, turning to backup tight end Mike Crenshaw, who usually came in to block for the tailback when the team had the ball inside the 5-yard line. “You okay with that?”

“Yes sir.”

“Okay,” Coach Gordon said. “Let’s go find out what you boys are made of.”

Alex couldn’t help but note that it was the
boys
—not the coaches or the head coach—whose manhood was apparently at stake.

Matt Gordon turned out to be a brilliant offensive coordinator. His idea that running straight at the Main Line defense would get the Chester Heights offense moving was a hundred
percent correct. The Lions were helped immeasurably by the fact that Main Line’s tailback fumbled on the first play of the half. Gerry Detwiler jumped on the ball at Main Line’s 29-yard line and the game turned quickly after that.

Matt handed the ball to starting tailback Craig Josephs on six straight plays. Josephs ran off right tackle or left tackle each time, with Crenshaw leading him into the hole. Crenshaw was a senior who didn’t play more often because he was a little too small at six three, 230 to be an offensive lineman and didn’t have good enough hands to be a consistent tight end. Blocking straight ahead was the best thing he did, especially given the extra step that starting from the fullback position gave him. He absolutely bludgeoned Main Line’s defensive tackles, opening up wide gaps in the line. Josephs scored from the 4-yard line and Pete Ross, the placekicker, somehow dug the ball out of the mud to make the extra point and tie the game at 7–7.

The atmosphere on the Chester Heights sideline changed completely. Even though Matt had done little more than turn and hand the ball to Josephs, everyone knew he had been responsible for the sudden change in their fortune.

“Best coach on this sideline named Gordon might not be the one who everyone calls ‘Coach,’ ” Jonas said to Alex as Ross prepared to kick off. “Something as simple as that and none of the coaches thought of it.”

“Or were afraid to say anything,” Alex said.

“Hey, the fact that Coach was smart enough to listen should count for something, don’t you think?” said Jake, who had been standing nearby. “A lot of coaches wouldn’t let a player even
make
a suggestion like that, much less follow it.”

Alex supposed that was true, but he also found it kind of ironic that Jake Bilney seemed to be more of a true believer in Matthew Gordon Senior than Matthew Gordon Junior was.

As had been the case the entire first half, Chester Heights shut down the Main Line offense on the next series. When the Lions got the ball back, the new offense was still working. Once, for variety, Matt stuck the ball into Crenshaw’s stomach and no one from Main Line even noticed he had the ball until he was twelve yards downfield. This time, Matt scored on a quarterback sneak from the 1-yard line. The Lions led 14–7.

On the next series, with time running out in the third quarter, Main Line moved their defensive backs almost onto the line of scrimmage to stop the straight-ahead runs. On a third and three at Main Line’s 48, Matt suddenly began shouting instructions at the line, clearly changing the play. Or, Alex thought, pretending to change the play. He had done that before.

Alex knew that Matt had been calling the plays himself. On almost every play, Coach Gordon was sending one of the receivers in with the instruction “Check with Matt.” That meant Matt was free to call what he wanted, although the understanding was that most of the calls were going to be simple running plays. Matt had mixed in Crenshaw’s one run and one counter play. His only carry had been on the quarterback sneak for the touchdown.

Now Matt ducked under center, took the snap, and began to run to the right with the ball. Alex could hear the panicked cries of the Main Line defenders, “QB sweep! QB
sweep!” as they scrambled to get to Matt before he could round the corner and turn upfield.

But he never did turn upfield. Instead, just before he got to the corner, he stuck the ball in Jonas’s stomach going in the other direction. A reverse!

The entire Main Line defense was heading in the wrong direction—pursuing Matt—when Jonas got the ball in his hands. He was around the corner in a split second, racing straight down the field with no one from Main Line even close to him.

If Main Line had any life left in it at that point, it drained away as soon as Jonas crossed the goal line and flipped the ball to the referee as if nothing dramatic had happened.

The fourth quarter opened with another hold by the defense, and the Lions once again took the ball the length of the field, eating up seven minutes off the clock. It was Crenshaw who scored the touchdown this time, diving in from the 2. Alex figured Matt engineered the TD for Crenshaw since his blocking had been so critical throughout the second half.

The final was 28–7. Jake came in to run the offense on the last series and got knocked down on one handoff, which meant that Alex was the only player on the Chester Heights sideline who didn’t have mud on his uniform when the teams met at midfield for the postgame handshakes. Alex noticed the Main Line coach, Bobby Chesbro, pointing a finger at Coach Gordon as they approached one another. Wondering if something was up, he wandered close enough so he could hear what was said as the coaches shook hands.

“That was a great adjustment you made at halftime, Coach,” he heard Coach Chesbro say. “Taught me a lesson.”

“Thanks,” Coach Gordon said. “Good luck the rest of the way.”

Alex almost laughed. He wanted to say something to Jake, but he was a few yards away talking to a couple of Main Line players. Matt was also talking to several Main Line players. He was so covered in mud you could barely read the 12 on his back.

Alex noticed that Matt, Jonas, Gerry Detwiler, and Craig Josephs were all being followed by camera crews. Clearly, there were a lot of media people covering the game, which wasn’t that surprising since both teams had been ranked in the
USA Today
top twenty-five that week: Chester Heights at number twenty, and Main Line at number twenty-two. He also noticed that the assistant coaches were making sure that none of the players stopped to talk to any of the media types.