Wade nodded, but he didn’t seem convinced. “Easy for you to say.” He went into a boxing stance and threw a few punches at his helmet, which was still hanging on the parking meter. “All I know is I shoulda been in there all season. Coach never had enough confidence in me just because we lost a lot last year. That’s why he went with Vinnie.”
Jason folded his arms and shook his head. “Vinnie’s a great quarterback,” he said. “We haven’t been the same since he got hurt.”
“That’s ’cause Coach made the wrong choice again. He yanked me after half a game against Bayonne. And I hadn’t even done anything wrong.”
“Hadn’t done much right, either, you gotta admit that.”
“Look what happened when he put you in.”
“I ain’t forgotten,” Jason said. “Believe me.”
Wade took his helmet off the meter and watched as a police car went by. Its lights were flashing, but the siren was not going. “You thirsty or anything?” he asked, not making eye contact.
“Yeah.”
“Come on.” Wade led the way into the grocery store. He took a Coke out of a cooler near the checkout and walked over to pay. Jason got one of his own. For a second he’d thought Wade might be buying, but apparently not. They paid separately and left the store.
“Which way you headed?” Wade asked.
“That way,” Jason replied, pointing uptown.
“I’m going the other way. See you later.”
“Right.” Jason walked away, taking a gulp of soda.
What was that all about?
he wondered. Wade was strange. It was almost as if he wanted to be friendly but didn’t quite know how. He always managed to say something stuck-up or selfish.
What would happen if Coach told them to run the new play late in a close game? Would Wade try to prove he was a hero, or would he just perform the task he’d been assigned?
He’d have to wait and see. Maybe they’d be so far ahead that it wouldn’t even matter. But that wasn’t very likely against Hoboken. The most likely scenario was a tight, tough game that went down to the final seconds.
To himself, Jason seemed to be as different from Wade as two kids could be. But maybe the coach believed differently. He seemed to think that combining their talents might be the best way to win Saturday’s game.
9
Who’s Invincible?
W
arming up on Saturday night, they all seemed to feel it. This notion of Hoboken as a nearly unbeatable force. As if Hudson City’s first-place position in the standings—by the slimmest of margins—was all just a sham. That after tonight, Hoboken would retake its rightful place at the top.
Calvin was staring off into the distance as he stretched his legs near the sideline. Lamont kept looking over at the Hoboken players. “Wow, those boys are
large,”
he said a couple of times.
Jason stepped away from the backs and receivers, walking over to Vinnie DiMarco. Vinnie was in uniform tonight, but his wrist was still in a cast and Coach Podesta had said there was no way he would play. He’d let him suit up simply because it was the final game of the season.
“Things seem strange to you?” Jason asked.
“Like what?”
“Everybody seems worried. Or doomed. You feel it?”
Vinnie shrugged and glanced over at the team. “They’re quieter than usual, I guess. Probably nervous.”
“Or scared
stiff.
”
Hudson City was 6—1, and Hoboken stood at 5—1—1. Everybody knew what was at stake.
“I don’t think those guys are scared,” Vinnie said, pointing toward Anthony and Sergio and some other linemen, who were doing a blocking drill and banging into each other hard.
“Or him.” Vinnie indicated Miguel, running a full-speed sprint near the end zone.
Jason fiddled with his chinstrap and looked up at the bleachers, which were rapidly filling with spectators. “Maybe it’s just me,” he said.
Vinnie put his hand on Jason’s shoulder. “You’ll be fine as soon as the game starts,” he said. “You’re just feeling the pressure.”
“Sure wish you were playing quarterback,” Jason said. “I’d much rather catch the ball than throw it.”
Miguel received the opening kickoff and returned it to the Hudson City thirty-five. Jason trotted onto the field, feeling like he might throw up from nervousness. Hoboken’s defensive players were big and furious.
He took a deep breath and called the first play, a simple handoff to Jared between the center and right guard—Sergio and Anthony.
Hoboken had its linebackers packed tight behind the line, ready to exert a lot of pressure. Coach had warned that they were tough to pass against, constantly blitzing.
But Anthony and Sergio bolted forward and opened a hole, and Jared ran through for nearly seven yards. He bounced up quickly and ran back to the huddle.
“Nice blocking,” Jason said.
“All night,” Anthony said. “We’ll own these guys.”
Jason called for a quarterback keeper, right through the same hole. He faked a handoff to Miguel and darted for the spot. But this time the hole was plugged by a linebacker. Jason was stopped cold.
Third and three. He called for a short pass play—Calvin in the flat or Lamont over the middle. But he never even got the pass off. As soon as he dropped back, a lineman was all over him. Six-yard loss. Fourth and nine.
But Vinnie was right. The nervousness Jason had felt before the game was gone. He’d been hit hard twice, but nothing bad had happened. These guys were tough, but they weren’t invincible.
The Hudson City defense held tight as well, and the Hornets managed a couple of first downs the next time they had the ball. Things were going fine. Hoboken scored on a short drive after a long punt return, but Hudson City was very much in the game.
Late in the second quarter, with a third down and six coming up from the Hornets’ forty, Jason was surprised to see Wade running toward the huddle. He grabbed Miguel’s arm and said, “I’m in for you.” Turning to Jason, he said, “Coach wants us to run the lateral.”
Jason kneeled in the huddle and said, “Wade’s at tailback. It’s a simple lateral to him to the right. Receivers should run the routes they do on play eighty-three, but this is a running play. On two.”
At the snap Jason dropped back as if to pass, but turned to his right and pitched the ball to Wade. Wade cut behind Anderson at tackle and ripped into the secondary, gaining eleven yards before being brought down.
Wade leaped up and shook his fist. Hudson City was inside Hoboken territory for the first time all night.
Less than a minute remained before halftime. Jason ran a quarterback sweep for a few yards, then completed a short pass to Lamont. A long pass to Calvin fell incomplete, so it was fourth down with just a few seconds left.
Wade came back onto the field. “The lateral again,” he said to Jason.
Jason nodded. He knew this was a setup. Coach wanted Hoboken to expect the lateral anytime Wade came into the backfield. Wade gained about seven yards this time, but the clock ran out as he was tackled.
Halftime score: Hoboken 7, Hudson City 0.
“We may need you after all,” Jason said to Vinnie as they jogged toward the locker room.
“How?”
“Low-scoring game like this one, an extra point could be huge. Think you could kick one?”
“I know I could,” Vinnie said. “Coach said no way, but maybe...”
They stopped running as they reached the path to the lockers. “You know,” Jason said, “if we tie these guys, we win the championship. We’d have more wins than they do.”
“That’s true,” Vinnie said. “Win or tie, it’s ours. They need a win to get the title.”
“We have to get into the end zone first, but that’d be something, huh? A championship-winning extra point from the guy with the broken wrist.”
Vinnie shook his head, but he had to smile. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come down to that. Get us a couple of touchdowns and be done with it.”
Both defensive units were outstanding in the second half. Jason ran for a first down and later passed for another, but the Hornets didn’t get close to the end zone.
Anthony and Sergio led the Hudson City defense, which kept Hoboken in check. Both teams’ punters got a lot of work. The clock showed less than four minutes to go in the fourth quarter as Jason took the field for perhaps the final time, still trailing 7—0.
Anthony punched Jason lightly on the arm. The big lineman was covered with sweat and dirt, and his lips were damp and bloody. “You’re the man, Fiorelli,” he said. “We’ve worked too hard not to win this thing. Do something special.”
“Help me out then,” Jason said. “Quarterback draw. Right behind you.”
The Hornets had the ball just short of midfield, but they’d gained very little yardage this half. Jason looked from face to face before breaking the huddle—Anthony, Sergio, and Anderson had been in on nearly every play of the game. They were exhausted. But each of them looked as fired-up as ever.
Jason took the snap, dropped back a step, faked the ball to Miguel, and dodged through the hole behind Anthony. He broke one tackle and surged forward, finally being brought down at the Hoboken forty-six.
“Nice one!” Sergio shouted.
“These guys are tired,” Anthony said as they huddled up again. “We can wear them down. Plenty of time. Keep running.”
A handoff to Jared went for a first down, and then Miguel broke loose for twelve more yards. They’d reached the thirty. The clock showed 2:47.
Jason felt a new rush of excitement. They were moving the ball. He called his own number again, this time following Anderson ahead for a five-yard gain.
“Yeah!” Jason said in the huddle. “Right in their faces. I’m taking it again. Just drive ’em out of the way.”
He was feeling it now; he was taking over this game. He set up behind Sergio, looking over the defense, planning his path through the line.
He called out the signals with new confidence. He’d get another first down, maybe even break free for a score. Here was the ball, into his hands. And there it went, slipping free to the ground.
He’d fumbled the snap. The ball was bouncing away! Jason dove for it, grabbing it with both hands and yanking it toward his chest. Two, three Hoboken linemen were on top of him, but he had it secured.
The play lost three yards. Jason got to his feet and looked over at the sideline. Coach Podesta was signaling for a pass.
“Sorry,” Jason said in the huddle before calling the play.
“It’s nothing,” Anthony said. “Forget it. Just make the throw, Jason. You’ll have time.”
He had time, but not enough, as none of the receivers got free. Jason scrambled away from the pursuers and raced across the field, but he knew his only options were an incomplete pass or a big loss. He was hit as he threw, but he managed to get the ball away.
So now it was fourth down and eight. Jason got to his feet and saw Wade running onto the field toward him. Wade grabbed Jason’s sleeve and gave him a serious look. Then he nodded and said, “Coach says to run it.”
Jason swallowed hard and nodded back. The secret play was risky, but if it worked it could pay off in a big way. If it failed, Hoboken would take possession and simply run out the clock.
Jason took a deep breath as the team huddled up. “The patterns are basically the same as play eighty-three,” he said. “To the defense it’ll look like the lateral we ran at the end of the first half. But we need a little more time; you guys have to block like you never did before. Especially the right side. On three.”
Jason caught Wade’s eyes as they broke the huddle. The look, which lasted just a fraction of a second, said more than any words they’d spoken.
This is bigger than either one of us. The whole season is riding on this play.
Wade lined up in the backfield alongside Miguel. Jason inhaled deeply, then called the signals. He felt the grain of the leather as he took the snap from Sergio and dropped quickly back to pass. But then he pivoted and tossed a lateral to Wade, who was running to the right.
Jason darted through the line between Sergio and Anthony, who were fiercely blocking the Hoboken linemen. He was a receiver again! The defensive backs were concentrating on Calvin and Lamont and Miguel, so Jason found a seam, cutting toward the sideline. He was in the clear. Wade’s pass was soft but on target, floating in the air at shoulder height. It was Jason’s first catch in three weeks. He immediately turned upfield with the ball and reached full speed.
Calvin made a terrific block on the man who was covering him, sending the player sprawling to the turf. The field was wide open. Jason ran like a sprinter, cradling the ball and knowing he wouldn’t be caught. It was only a matter of seconds until he raced into the end zone.
Lamont was the first to reach him, throwing both arms around him and lifting him off the ground. Calvin and Miguel were right behind, smacking his helmet and yelling.
But this was no time to celebrate.
“That’s only half the battle,” Jason said. “We’re still a point behind.”
Jared had come back onto the field to replace Wade, bringing in the play from the coach. “He says to run the quarterback sneak.”
Jason looked to the sideline and caught Coach Podesta’s attention. He made a kicking motion, hoping instead that Vinnie might get sent onto the field to try to tie the game, but Coach shook his head. They’d either win the game or lose it on this play.
Jason put his hand on Anthony’s shoulder. “Just move ’em back. I’m going right behind you and Sergio. All the power we got now. This is the championship, right here.”
He set up behind Sergio and scanned the defense. The Hoboken players were packed in, expecting a run. The linebackers were right behind the line, ready to charge forward on the snap and plug any holes. Sergio and Anthony and the others would have to come up with heroic efforts.
Jason locked eyes with the middle linebacker and saw an intense fury. And that split second of distraction was all that was needed to mess up his handling of the snap. The ball hit the meat of Jason’s hand and slid to his thigh. He grabbed at it, bobbled it, and finally hung on, but any chance to force his way through the line had been lost. There was no place to go but back.