The Walk On (33 page)

They hadn’t seen each other all morning, although they had talked on the phone over the weekend. As far as Alex could remember, Jonas had never called him by his nickname before.

“Probably a lot like yours,” he said. “I couldn’t take two steps in the hallway without someone stopping me.”

Jonas shook his head. “Some people stopped me. Most just waved and said, ‘Nice going.’ All I did was catch the ball. You threw it.”

Alex laughed. “If you don’t catch, my throwing it doesn’t mean much.”

“Yeah, well,” Jonas said. “I guess everyone is kind of all over the story of Coach benching his own son with the game on the line. That’s gotta be tough on Matt.”

Alex had thought about that a lot over the weekend. He’d even thought about calling Matt. Then he’d realized there wasn’t much he could say.

Pizza was waiting when the players walked into the meeting room. Alex grabbed a box marked
CHEESE
and sat in one of the back rows. Jonas and Jake slid in on either side of him.

“How’s life as a hero?” Jake asked.

“Exhausting,” Alex answered.

Coach Gordon got right down to business, explaining that he and the coaches had already looked at tape of York Central. “They’re all tough kids. They won’t be scared or intimidated. We haven’t played them before, but they’ve been in the playoffs four of the last five years, so they’re very experienced. They start nine seniors on offense and nine on defense.”

He went through the practice schedule for the week, which would be a bit lighter than normal because it was late in the season and everyone was tired.

“You guys who love the weight room, love it a little less this week,” he said. “If you aren’t strong enough to compete by now, you aren’t going to get there. Let your bodies rest a little.”

He also announced that the players would be excused from their afternoon classes on Friday. “There will be a pep rally at lunchtime. Then you’ve got the afternoon off to go home, get off your feet, and relax,” he said. “We’ll want you back here at six o’clock.

“If anyone has a test, try to work it out with your teacher. If you have a problem, talk to your position coach.” He smiled. “I doubt there will be any issues.”

He paused.

Coach Brotman waved a hand from the side of the room.

“Coach,” he said. “Drug testing?”

“Right,” Coach Gordon said. “Thanks, Coach. Most of you guys are probably unaware that last year the state high school board voted to drug-test in all sports during statewide
competition. All of you will be tested after practice on Wednesday, as will the players from the other seven schools who have qualified.

“This won’t sound like good news to some of you who don’t like needles, but a blood test is better than a urine sample because it’s more accurate and the results come back sooner.

“I know none of you are stupid enough to be doping, so I’m not worried about this at all. Just so you know, if we win, a random sampling of the team will be tested again next week, and then again before the championship game. It’s a minor nuisance, but it shouldn’t be anything more than that.

“Any questions?”

He nodded when no hands went up. “Okay, then. Practice at the regular time today. Finish your pizzas and head to class.”

“You clean, Goldie?” Jake asked, laughing as most of the team stood to leave. Fifth period was ten minutes away.

“Unless there’s something in the pizza or in a McDonald’s hamburger, I should be all right,” Alex said.

Jonas leaned in and said softly, “We’ve got some big linemen. You think they’re all clean?”

Jake stood up. “Guess we’re going to find out. You might be able to beat a urine test or claim there was a mistake. Pretty tough with blood testing. ’Course, it’s only a problem if we win Friday and someone’s test comes back positive next week.”

“What’s the penalty for a positive test?” Alex asked.

“No idea,” Jake said. “Let’s hope we never find out.”

Coach Gordon hadn’t addressed the other lingering question: who would start at quarterback in the York game? Alex got the answer that afternoon at practice when the team scrimmaged. It was business almost as usual: Matt got about two-thirds of the snaps and Alex the rest—except for one final series when Jake came in.

The scrimmage was shorter than normal and so was practice. The weather was relatively warm—probably around fifty degrees at the start of practice. But when the sun began to set at quarter to five, it got cold quickly. Coach Gordon reminded them of the schedule again before he sent them inside. Tuesday would be the last all-out practice of the week. Wednesday’s practice would be shortened to allow time for the drug testing, and Thursday would, as usual, be briefer than the rest of the week.

“We’ll be more about preparing for the opponent than practicing anything new or anything hard this week,” he said. “You third-teamers and JVs are going to be crucial running scout team plays, so please study what we’ve given you on York. This is your chance to really contribute to this team.”

Based on what they were seeing from the scout team, York was a very aggressive defensive team—frequently blitzing linebackers and even safeties to try to keep the quarterback from getting into any sort of rhythm with either a running game or a passing game. That meant quick-hitting passes against what would often be one-on-one coverage should be effective, as would counter plays—starting in one direction, then going in the other to take advantage of an aggressive defense.

Alex couldn’t help but notice that Matt was struggling with his short, quick throws. The football was frequently a half step or a full step off target. He was clearly frustrated when he missed on a pass—even when it was caught. On one play, Jonas reached out and made a catch. When he came back to the huddle, Matt said, “I gotta get the ball in your stomach, Jonas. If I don’t, someone’s going to kill you reaching for it.”

“No worries,” Jonas said. “We made the play.”

“
You
made the play,” Matt said.

The counter plays were Matt’s forte. He was such a quick, strong runner that the defense had to respect him anytime he took off with the ball. He never seemed to make a wrong decision on those plays: If the defense stayed back, he took off. If it chased him, he was ready to make a pitch, a quick counter handoff, or even a reverse.

It was apparent to Alex that the offense would focus on running the ball—unless he got into the game. No one said anything to him about what his role might be.

“They’ll get you in for one series in the second quarter,” Jake predicted as they walked off the practice field on Wednesday. “How much you play the rest of the night will depend on how the game’s going.”

It occurred to Alex that Jake might not be much of a quarterback, but he was an amazing mind reader.

“Yeah,” Jonas put in. “As in, if we need to throw, you’re in there, Goldie. Matt’s never been that good a passer, but he’s been brutal the last couple days.”

Jake nodded. “I’m not sure what’s up with him,” he said.

Matt’s throwing hadn’t been very good—even by his
standards—but Alex thought he had also been uncharacteristically quiet: hard on himself as always, but not in his joking, self-deprecating way. At one point, after another bad throw, he had looked at Alex and said, “You better be ready, Goldie. I have a feeling we’re going to need you.”

He’d said almost the exact same thing before, but it had been in more of a “Come on, let’s go” tone. This was more of an almost resigned “I’m just not that good” tone. Alex wondered if having his dad take him out for the final series last week—and then watching Alex help win the game—was the reason for his mood. He thought about asking him but decided the week of the state quarterfinals wasn’t the right time.

The drug testing didn’t take very long. They were called into the training room alphabetically. Teams of testers were drawing blood, labeling the vials with each player’s name, and making sure they were stored properly for shipment.

The players had been told to bring their school ID with them. Apparently, there had been cases where someone taking PEDs had tried to send someone else in his place to give the sample. Even if the other players saw there was a non-team-member giving blood, they weren’t likely to say anything. Code of the locker room: you don’t turn in your teammates for anything.

When Alex showed his ID to the nurse, she looked at the photo, then looked at him and smiled.

“Last week’s hero, right?”

“I’m the backup quarterback,” Alex said, causing Jimmy Marshall, two tables away, to shout, “He’s our closer!”

If the nurse knew what that meant, she didn’t show it. She handed Alex back his ID and the other tech found a label with his name on it and stuck it on a vial.

“Okay,” the nurse said as she swabbed his arm with alcohol. “You’ll feel a quick pinch and that will be it. Make a fist—keep it closed until I tell you it’s okay.”

Alex did as he was told, and thanked them.

“We’ll have the results back in a week,” the tech said. “Needless to say, no news will be good news.”

Alex said thank you once more and walked back to the locker room. A funny thought occurred to him: the one thing he wanted right now was to be drug-tested again in a week. It would mean they were still playing.

Jake Bilney’s prediction about how much Alex would play against York was deadly accurate. The night was cold and blustery and both teams had a tough time moving the ball. York Central’s defense was, as expected, aggressive and tough. Their strategy was apparent: key on Matt Gordon and make him give up the ball. If he wanted to pass, that was fine—especially given the windy conditions.

The closest anyone came to scoring was at the end of the first half, after Craig Josephs had gotten outside on a counter play in the final minute with the York Central defense lying back because of the clock. Josephs had broken out a thirty-one-yard run to the York Central 20, and with time running out, Matt had spiked the ball.

Pete Ross came on with four seconds left to attempt a thirty-seven-yard field goal, but it was dead into the wind and well short. The score was 0–0 at halftime.

“This is exactly the kind of game we expected,” Coach Gordon said during the break. “They’re good on defense and so are we. We just need to make sure we don’t turn the ball over, because I guarantee you they will. Be patient and we’ll be fine.”

Alex thought the cheers for the team as it came back on the field were somewhat muted. No one was scoring and no one was roaring. The band was playing, but the notes seemed to drift away in the wind. This was November football and nothing about it was easy.

The punt-fest continued in the third quarter. With 4:48 left and York Central facing a third and ten from its own 31, Coach Brotman called Alex’s name. Jake, who had been standing next to Alex, looked surprised.

“What’s he doing—” Jake started to say, but Alex jogged over to Coach Brotman before he finished the sentence.

“Warm up,” was all Coach Brotman said. “You may be in if we get a stop.”

Alex did as he was told. The defense held, and as the York punt team went on the field, Alex noticed that Matt had not—as he normally did—put his helmet back on. The kick, with the wind, was downed on the Chester Heights 23. Play stopped for a TV time-out.