Coach Gilly was about to lose it. He was pacing the sidelines, tracking the refs with hawk eyes. It was the closest game we'd had all season. The stories about St. Peter's, that we had all prayed were simply glorified rumors, turned out to be true. They came into the game channeling their inner beasts. Solid brick walls that came down on us with a force that was filled with determination.
The offensive line looked worn and beaten, and it was still the first half. Joseph was hunched over, gasping to steady his rapid breathing. He'd gotten slammed while trying to protect Shane in the pocket. He was the last one standing against three defenders. Each of them growling and looking to get the sack. The second the ball left Shane's hand and sailed overhead, Joseph fell back under six hundred pounds of pure muscle.
My brother was determined to match their aggression as the defense charge through the line. It didn't matter how many players he had to get through. The amount of resistance he met. None of it. He wanted to bring the monsters down to our level. If he could weaken one link, he could open the gate that would change the whole game. That was his goal. It wasn't about getting to the quarterback or stripping the ball. He was looking to make that one play that would give us a fighting chance.
The clatter of gear as the ball was snapped to St. Peter's quarterback had the breath catching in my throat. The numbers on the scoreboard were ticking away, getting closer to the one minute mark. It was the second down, and we were a touchdown away from tying up the game. Lucas had a minute to make his move.
"I know that look," Finn grumbled beside me.
"There's no look," I spoke softly, my eyes fixed on the ball. It looked like it was an attempt to avoid being pushed back a few yards. The glimmer of hope on my teammates' faces didn't dare to show on mine. I could see the play as it unfolded. The curse of being as observant as I was, I knew it wasn't just a quick release. He had two men down field that were waiting to be on the receiving end.
"You hoping for a miracle injury that won't blow back on us."
"I'd settle for just one of them to go down for a few plays," I shrugged. "A nice shot to the abdomen should do the trick."
"Joe's right. You're scary when that brain of yours starts working."
"You know I'm right."
"Third down. There's still forty yards to go before the game is fourteen to twenty one. What would you do? Would you pass it, run it or hand it off?"
"Running it would only set me up for an easy fumble. I could lob it like Brady jr. out there. The chances of one of your three shadows intercepting it."
"And the hand off?"
"You would become a target for their dynamic tag team efforts."
"Then what do you say we get a plan together. Something that we can use that will fake them out. It'll be a single use play, but it would throw them off."
"Not exactly a miracle injury, but if we can get under their skin it might be enough to get ahead."
The buzzer screamed from overhead. The defense had held off our opponents from getting another score. Their brutish cheers from the sidelines wormed its way under my own skin. It was only half time and they were celebrating as if it was the final bell of the state championship. The hooting and hollering as they stormed off toward the locker rooms was meant to break our spirits. The down casted gazes of my teammates was only fueling St. Peter's players.
Personally, I would rather be knocked around again by a shitty hit than what was happening. It was a mental attack that would leave a scar bigger than the concussion had on my family. Physical attacks are all that we had faced up until tonight. This was new and we had no idea how to take it. The defeat already engraved on my teammates' faces was wearing on my own spirit. We needed to get our act together.
There were still two more quarters left in the game. A full half hour of play time that could go either way. If we could get our heads back in the game, focus on what we wanted hard enough, we could make it happen. It would be by a point, maybe two. At this point it didn't matter about the points. It would have to be about the win and getting to the next game. Two games stood in the way of standing in the middle of Husky Stadium with that trophy high over our heads.
**~~**
The offensive coach stared at me as I stole the dry erase board from him. Finn and I had pulled him to the side as high time was ending, telling him that we were working out a new, one time only, play. I was surprised when he didn't look offended. Gilly would have crucified us for suggesting that we wanted to shake things up. Coach Corey on the other hand seemed to welcome the idea.
I was supposed to go in to replace Shane who was in a serious need of a break. When I turned I pleaded that I be given those four downs to sit out, Gilly was more than frustrated. Corey stepped in and promised it would only be for a few plays. I would be on the field the next go around. This play needed to be ready to go before that could happen.
"You want to go old school?"
"It worked for Ohio State," I smiled as I used the black marker. "St. Peter's been watching film on all of their opponents. You can see it in their tactics. They have backup plans for their backup plans. When do you think was the last time any of them had time to watch highlights. Let alone highlights featuring games from nearly a decade ago."
"Finn is on board?"
"I'm thinking we get some bigger bodies on it too. Use them for the first few pitches. Let them knock as many heads as they can to clear the way for Finn, Noah and me."
"You?" Corey's eyes drifted from the circles and lines on the board to me. "You're brother is going to have a field day."
"Lucas will get over it. He wants this win as much as the rest of us." I handed the board back to him. "The bigger question is, do you think it will work?"
"I think if not, it'll be the only thing talked about for a week."
Shane collapsed on the bench beside us, and I felt guilty. He was exhausted and sore. I could see it as he yanked the helmet off. Sweaty, matted mess of blonde clung to his forehead. The visual proof of his hard work for the last eight minutes trailed down his neck and between his pads. Finn smacked the hidden shoulder pad and gave his friend a proud smile.
"This play had better be worth, little Lester. If not you owe me several drinks tonight."
"Did you seriously just say that," Corey muttered with a shake of his head.
"Laine makes the best sweet tea, Coach. What did you think I was talking about," Shane teased, looking up at his Coach. A man who could get him booted from the team and suspended for underage drinking. The same man who was probably no different from us ten years ago when he was on the field.
"So help me, Russel -"
"What do you say to one more play?" All eyes shot to me as I studied Shane. I knew deep down he wasn't up for it, but that glint in his eyes as the corner of his mouth turned up was all I needed.
"What do you have cooking in that head of yours, you evil little girl?" My smile doubled as I turned to Finn and Corey. I wiggled my fingers for the board again. In each of the circles I had drawn earlier, I wrote letters. One for Finn, then Joseph, another lineman, myself and finally Shane.
All three of the men had to fight to keep a straight face as they each approved of the switch up to the play. Pulling it off would be legendary. Psyching out St. Peter's team with it would be huge. If they watched our film religiously for the last week they knew I was about to step out onto that field. They knew I was going to be the one to watch. Putting Shane and I both on the field will make their heads spin so fast they won't be able to think straight for at least two plays.
The defense came storming off the field as St. Peter's offense strolled over to their own sideline. As we formed a huddle, our teammates looked at our little trio with the most obvious question. Shane laid out the play for them and all the moving parts. For the first time the entire game I saw it. The wild, hungry look in their eyes. The monstrous, blood thirty grins. We were back in it. They were ready to fight with the last of their energy to get the last points they needed.
Finn threw a glance my way as we lined up on either side of Shane. The offense found their voices as they stared down their targets. I could feel half of their eyes on me from over the helmets of my protectors. Shane called it out, sweeping his eyes over the men. With a nod to Finn then to me. The crash of pads milliseconds after the snap was meant to rattle us. The blitz was supposed to break whatever it was that we'd found again.
Once Joseph dropped back for Landon and Ryan to fend off three St. Peter's men, we had them. Since the start of the game, we hadn't let up on the line. Falling back was only the start to the mayhem. Finn and I trailed after Shane, who quickly pitched the ball backwards for Joseph's waiting hands. He had made it five yards, plowing down his opponents as they tried to get their hands on the ball.
At the six yards, he pitched the ball back to Conner. His head was already down as he led with his shoulder to knock the incoming defenders out of our way. Joseph went wide to slow the others that were finally catching on. Conner made it another seven yards before he followed Joseph's lead. Finn took the ball and took advantage of the wide open route that our boys had cleared for us.
I shouted his name as a flash of gold caught my eye. The slight movement of his helmet and I positioned my hands right where they needed to be. The familiar grooves of the leather grazed my hands as Finn dropped his shoulder. His arms were spread wide before wrapping around the wide receiver who was determined to catch us. They went down right in front of me. Stepping away from the sideline would put me smack dab in the open field. I could step over that line and stop the clock.
Praying that I wasn't about to cost us the ground we gained, I jumped over the pair. The first foot to hit solid ground slid a little on the slick grass. Cradling the ball close to my chest, my arm shot out to balance myself. Another silent prayer left me as I forced myself up, back onto two feet. I didn't have time to react as my body propelled itself forward. The muscle memory of getting to that goal line took control. The sounds of the fans shouting echoed around me at the hideous colored goal post got bigger.
The shrill cry of a whistle to my right made my head snap to the ref. His arms were raised on either side of his head as I spun around for the view I loved taking in. The disgruntled kicks at the grass. Arms going wide as blame was tossed around from one person to another. My teammates rallied around me. Finn's helmet collided with mine. Those dark green eyes sparkling.
I was lifted from behind before I could say anything to him. Joseph's obnoxious cheering made my ears ring as he spun me around. He was enjoying the moment too much. We were an extra point away from tying up the game. We would need two point conversion or a field goal to barely get a head. My mind was rolling through what we could do when I realized I was back on my feet and being ushered off the field.
"Where's Shane," I asked, scanning the faces beyond the facemask.
Lucas pointed to the field where they were lining up for the two point risk. This would be the first we got to see if our attack on their egos worked. My hand curled around Finn's forearm as Shane crouched behind the linemen. He called out the play and the sounds that always followed the snap rippled through the stadium.
It was a massive cluster of movements. I could see the ball as Shane handed it off, but lost it as Finn was swarmed. He dove over the wall of St. Peter's players, beating the wave of gold in timing. They crumpled forward as he lunged over the pile of men. Someone caught his foot, slowing down his airborne momentum. There was a unanimous gasp as we waited to see if the risk paid off. With two arms raised in the air from either side of the field, the fans erupted from behind us. We finally got our groove back.