Love Lifted Me (23 page)
“Coach, I can'tâ”
“If you say you can't, then you won't. Be on the team, Tucker. You
can
. Focus on your job, not on your fear.”
He swallowed a shallow breath, nodding.
“Go do your job.” Max smacked Tucker on the back and watched him run onto the field, the reverberation of his tone vibrating in his chest. Gruff and terse.
Don't take your nerves out on the boys
. But some of them, Tucker, needed to man up a bit, didn't they? Max paced past Hines. “Think we have a snowball's chance of winning?”
“I'm praying for a snowball's chance of getting out of here alive.”
Max stopped. “That's all the confidence you have?”
“I do have a lot of faith.”
Max broke, grinning. “That'll do, Hines.”
The ref 's whistle blew and the Warrior kickoff squad lined up on the field, a jittery, bouncing Tucker waiting to kick the ball. Max hunched forward, hands on his thighs.
Come on, Tucker
. He struck his kicking pose, then stepped one, two, three, drawing back his leg . . .
Tuck's foot thumped the ball and it took a low, low arc down the field. Ten yards. Tucker barely booted it ten yards. Max dropped his chin to his chest.
The Eagles landed on the ball at their own forty-yard line.
Haley shoved her defenders onto the field, shouting last-minute encouragement, her red ponytail flipping around her shoulders.
“Let's go. Bring the D, Warriors.” Max walked the sidelines. The boys kneeled, focused on the game, just like Hines taught them. Max appreciated the man who brought so much texture and discipline to the team. Things he never would have thought to do.
Max bent down to Tucker's ear. “What happened?”
“I don't know, Coach. I thought Iâ”
Max turned his head to face him. “You know how to do this. You've practiced for hours. This is your time to step up, Tucker. Focus.”
“I don't think I can do it.”
“Then you won't.” Max exhaled as he stood. “And you'll let yourself and the team down. So you just decided what kind of Warrior football player you want to be.”
The Eagles scored easily on their first possession. Max and Hines's Warrior offense went to work. When the Eagles punted, Calvin Blue caught the ball on the twenty and ran, juking and jiving for a twenty-five-yard return. The stadium went wild, everyone on their feet.
When he ran to the sidelines to huddle with Max for the offense call, Max peered at him through his helmet. “Tone it down, hotshot. But good job.”
Noah led the O to the field and started the series on the Eagles forty-five yard line.
“Now just run the plays,” Max called, pacing. “Focus. Keep your heads in the game. This is our time.” Did he sound calm and in command? Because his knees bobbled and threatened to drop him to the field in a quivering puddle.
The Warriors and Eagles duked it out in a defensive battle, holding the score at seven zip, until late in the second quarter when Noah found Calvin for a touchdown.
The team exploded off the sideline and onto the field. The Warrior fans rocked the house as the pep band lit the night with a victory rhythm.
Max glanced at Tucker. Eyes ahead, the kid stood frozen, helmet in his hands, instead of prepping for the PAT. “Hines,” Max said, “let's go for two.”
“You're the coach.” Hines called in the play.
Noah found Calvin again in the far corner of the end zone, and when the buzzer sounded for halftime, the Warriors went into the locker room ahead of the Eagles by one point.
They were on fire, lighting up the locker room with exuberance, slapping each other high- and low-fives. When Max faced them, the boys talked at once.
“Coach, we can win this. We can.”
“Calvin is faster than their whole team put together.”
“All right, all right. Good job. See, I told you. We can win. We're not losers. This is what
team
is about. See the power you have when you play as one? Now, we need to make some adjustments . . .”
Max let the boys talk, one at a time, to share what was happening on the field. Then he made adjustments and challenged the boys to stay with their assignments, not to get intimidated. He pointed out a few tactics of the Eagles, then let Hines and Haley have the floor.
“I tell you what,” Hines said, stepping forward. “What I saw on that field the first half was every bit as good as the championship teams I coached. I'm proud of you boys.”
During the half, the Eagles also made adjustments and in the third quarter, wore the Warriors out with their quick defense and no huddle offense. Yet as the fourth quarter wound down to the final two minutes, the Eagles only led the Warriors by two: 16â14.
The Warriors had the ball on their own fifty, and the boys in red and gold were ablaze with confidence. First down. Noah dropped the ball and barely recovered his own fumble.
Second down. Calvin broke a tackle and barreled into the Eagles' secondary, running for thirty yards before the Eagles safety popped him out of bounds.
Third down. Big play for the red zone. Noah faked to Billings, then swept left to find Calvin cutting across to a wide-open center field. The ball sailed toward him in a perfect spiral.
The fans roared.
Come on, come on .
. . Max's fingers dug into his palms.
Calvin ate up the yards with his quick, long stride. The NFL should execute this good.
The Eagles' cornerback shot toward Calvin like a blue rocket and just as he did a Superman into the end zone, stretching for the catch, the Eagles' defender batted the ball away.
No, no, no!
The boys slammed into each other and crashed onto the ground. Max thundered onto the field. “Ref, where's my flag? Where's my flag? Interference.”
“Max, Max.” Hines grabbed his shirt and dragged back. “The boys are watching. Come on nowâthat was a clean play. No interference.”
“That kid was all over Calvin. Where's my flag, ref?” He hated missed calls.
“The boys deserved that one, Hines. That was six. A beautiful play.” Max jutted toward the refs. “Cheaters.”
“You want to run a mile, Coach? Keep it up.” Hines shoved him toward the sidelines and called a time-out. “What do you want to do? Try for six one last time or call in the kicking team? It's fourth down . . . our last chance to score.”
He advised Max with his tone. “A field goal puts us ahead by one. Haley's D's been doing its job all night.” Hines regarded Max with expectation.
“Coach, did you see me?” Calvin jumped in front of Max, mimicking his jump for the ball. “It was right here.” He made a T with his left palm on top of his right fingers. “Can we run that again? I'll get it next time.”
“Coach.” Noah joined the confab. “I hesitated. Calvin would've had it otherwise.” Ah, the nectar of teamwork. “He had that corner beat. I know dead to rights he can outrun Cooper Fielding. I've seen them at track meets.”
The stadium rumbled. The drums resounded. Shouts rained down from the fans:
“Go for it. Give it to Blue.”
“You stink, Benson.”
“Let's go, Warriors.”
“Don't put the kicker in, he'll miss.”
Max's blood pumped. He was fifty seconds and twenty yards from winning his first ever opening game and breaking the Warriors worst losing streak in their history. He glanced down the sidelines. Tucker hid at the end of the row, staring out over the field, knees locked, gripping his helmet by the face mask.
“Noah and Calvin have been clicking all night, Max,” Hines said. “We should go for it.”
Max studied their faces. He had no doubt Calvin and Noah could run it again. But . . . this was about building a team.
“It's our first game. Let's see what we're made of.” Max twisted toward Tucker. “Walberg, warm up. You're going in. Haley, get your boys ready to hold down their offense for forty seconds.”
Noah exhaled with a
doggone
expression. Calvin started to protest, but one glance from Max and he clamped shut. He sprinted toward Tucker.
“Come on, Walberg, you can do this. You must have kicked that ball into the net at least a thousand times.”
“Hines, you think Tuck can kick it?” Max said.
“Doesn't matter what I think, Coach. It matters what Tucker thinks. Hines popped his hands as Tucker ran toward them. “Come on, Tuck, this is every kicker's dream.”
Dread sank through Max's belly. He could feel Tucker's terror. He glanced over his shoulder. Jade was on her feet, balled up fists at her face, her intense gaze toward the field. Tucker had spent almost every evening of the last week at their house, and Jade quickly had become his surrogate mom.
Max peered through Tucker's face mask. “You can do this. Split the uprights. Plant your back foot, square your hips toward the goal, and follow through. You've done it a million times.”
He nodded, swallowing, but terror buoyed in his eyes. “I'll try.”
“Go
do
.”
The kicking team lined up. Channel 13's cameraman ran past. The ref blew his whistle. Max took a knee and watched.
Come on, Tucker. Come on
. Max's neck tensed. His back ached with the weight and expectation of every watching Warrior fan.
“What are you doing, Coach?”
“He can't kick, Benson. Put in Warren and Blue.”
“Come on, Tucker.”
The center hiked the ball. Noah caught and teed it. Tucker strode forward.
His form looked good. He was long and lean.
Come on, come on . . . connect with the ball
.
Then it happened. So fast. Tucker's plant foot twisted and his kicking leg sailed high and wide over the ball, nearly hitting Noah in the head. On reflex he ducked and let go of the ball.
Tucker spun a complete circle, his legs twisting like a pretzel, and hit the ground flat on his back, a mournful
oomph
coming from his chest.
A collective
Oooooh
rose from the stands, followed by a barrage of laughter and boos. Max buried his face in his hands.
Good grief, Charlie Brown
.
When Tucker didn't get up, Max jogged onto the field and bent over him.
“Are you all right?”
“Everyone's laughing at me, Coach.” Tuck squeezed his eyes tight and leaked a tear to his cheek.
“Get up. Shake it off.” Max tendered his tone and offered the boy a hand. Putting his arm around him, they walked in solidarity to the sidelines. The players cut a wide berth.
Forty seconds later, the buzzer ended his misery. The Eagles won by two. Max jogged toward the field house where the press and the boosters waited, most likely to demand an account of his final play.
The red digits on the bedside clock beamed two a.m. Jade rolled onto her side and burrowed under the covers. The first Sunday of October had arrived with nippy temperatures. She needed to sleep. She'd been so tired lately, keeping up with Asa, trying to work around Max's schedule.
Ever since losing the first game, Max left the house early and came home late. She stretched her hand to touch his back. But his side of the bed was vacant. Sitting up, she shoved her hair from her eyes. A weary wave washed over her and she felt queasy from sitting up too fast. It'd been happening lately with all the late nights and early mornings. “Max?”
After Asa turned two in August, he refused to take naps. It was a sad day when she gave up trying to make him. He was growing up too fast. Someday he'd long for the beauty and luxury of sleep. And Jade already knew she'd remind him of this. Meanwhile, she never seemed to have a moment's rest and she was beyond exhausted.
Slipping on her robe, Jade turned on the hall light and picked her way through the living room. Calvin, Noah, Brad, and Tucker had surprised them last night, showing up unannounced, piling out of Noah's truck. They spent the evening tossing the ball around with Max, talking over the game.
Jade baked two batches of browniesâlast weekend United Stores had Betty Crocker on sale two for oneâand invited them to crash at the house if their folks didn't mind. She certainly didn't. Calvin snoozed on the sofa. Brad curled up on the chaise and ottoman. Tucker and Noah were burrowed into sleeping bags on the floor.
Jade picked up an empty glass by Noah's head. She loved the melody of the boys' excited voices and boisterous laughter. How they paid attention to Asa, letting him play the game with them. He was so cute trying to run with the ball. He could barely grip it with both hands.
“Max?” She peered into his office. Empty. Jade shoved Asa's door open. He'd kicked off his covers so she straightened the blanket. His toes stretched the ends of his pajama feet. She'd have to get him new ones soon. Tomorrow. She checked his diaper. With the hubbub of the boys in the house, she'd missed how Asa connived each one of them to fill his juice cup over and over. The empty Juicy Juice bottle gave him away. “Sneaky stinker.” She kissed his soft, puffy cheek.
