CHAPTER 6
“You’re in, Noah,” Coach French said, patting him on the shoulder.
“Um, okay,” Noah said nervously. “You got it, Coach.”
Noah pulled on his helmet and jogged out to the huddle. He passed the two medics who were carrying Eric off the field.
Eric held up his hand as he went past. Noah gave him a high five. “Good luck,”
Eric said.
“Thanks,” Noah said. “I hope your ankle is okay.”
Noah ran onto the field and joined the huddle. It was cold. His breath came out from his helmet like a puff of smoke. The whole huddle was full of clouds from the players breathing.
“Noah, we’re going straight to you,” Carlos said. Noah could see him smirking behind his facemask. “I hope you’re feeling warmed up,” Carlos went on. “Okay, on three, run counter.”
Noah nodded. The play meant Carlos would try to get the defense off Noah with a fake. If it worked, Noah could run in open field.
If it didn’t, Noah would be pretty much alone, with no blockers.
Carlos clapped and shouted, “Break!” The team got lined up in shotgun position.
Carlos barked at the center: “Hut, hut, hut!”
The center snapped the football. Carlos caught the ball and faded back to the left. The defensive line moved with him.
Noah ran to the left too, to take the handoff. As he ran, he spotted a defender on the Eagles line, number 66. He remembered number 66 from his stats book. Number 66 never fell for the fake.
Carlos turned and gave Noah the handoff as Noah cut back to the right side. The defense should have been weaker, but Noah glanced at the Eagles number 66. What if he wasn’t fooled by the fake to the left?
Noah decided to cut back to the left, where the offensive line could protect him.
“Noah, weak side!” Carlos shouted, but it was too late.
Noah ran straight into the line, a mass of his own linemen and Eagles defensive linemen. The Wildcats linemen didn’t expect Noah to come running up from behind them. They were confused and tried to make a path for him.
Instead they opened up and let the defenders rush through. They plowed into Noah, sending him flying deeper into the backfield and onto his back with a thud.
The whistle blew. Noah looked up at the sky. He watched his breath form a cloud over him for a second. It was bright white against the clear blue sky.
Carlos was standing over him. He reached out his hand to help Noah up, and Noah took it.
“Why’d you go left?” Carlos said.
Noah shook the tackle from his head and tried to reply. He heard the referee call out, “A loss of eight yards.”
“There goes Eric’s run,” Carlos said. “And now it’s third down.” The quarterback shook his head and got into the huddle.
Noah followed him, hanging his head.