CHAPTER 8
The feeling in the locker room didn’t match the feeling in Logan’s stomach. Everyone was in a great mood. After all, they were up by three points. A few players on the offense were having a really good game so far. Everyone was pretty sure that they’d win the game.
But Logan felt sick. A small part of his brain kept thinking, If it weren’t for me, we’d be up by ten points!
“Everyone settle down, all right?” the coach said. The players all took a seat on a bench or leaned against the lockers or walls.
Logan stood toward the back of the group and looked at his feet. He watched the other members of the team high-five each other as they started to quiet down. Finally Coach French blew his whistle and the room fell silent.
“I’m glad you’re all excited,” the coach said with a smile, “but as far as I can tell, we still have half this game to go.”
A few players mumbled in reply.
“And we’re only up by three points,” the coach added. “So don’t get too confident, and don’t think we have this game in the bag, okay?”
“Okay, Coach,” the team replied all together.
“All right,” Coach French said. He nodded. “Now then, let’s go over a few things. . . .”
Logan didn’t pay very close attention as the coach rattled off some plays that hadn’t worked well and mentioned some defensive mistakes. He felt like he didn’t need to hear about those. After all, those mistakes had been his fault!
When the coach was done with his speech, he found Logan.
“Logan, I noticed you seem a little sluggish out there,” Coach French said. “I’ve seen you block tougher passes in practice than that screen on the Cyclones’ first drive.”
“I really went for it, Coach,” Logan said. “I just missed it. The pass went right past my fingertips.”
The coach looked at him a second. “Okay, Logan,” he said. “As long as you’re giving it your all.”
He patted Logan on the shoulder and walked off, looking down at his clipboard. Then Logan saw that Andrew had been standing behind the coach. He had overheard the conversation.
“I guess Coach noticed the same thing I did, huh?” Andrew asked.
“Man!” Logan said. “I wish you’d stop giving me such a hard time. So I’m having a bad day, and my jersey stinks because I forgot to wash it, and I eat lunch alone! So what?”
Andrew took a step back and smiled. “Whoa, whoa,” he said, putting his hands up. “Take it easy. I didn’t mean to make you angry.”
Logan took a deep breath. “Sorry,” he said. “I guess I’m having kind of a rough game.”
“So what’s the problem?” Andrew asked.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Logan said. “The guys on the Cyclones — some of them are my best friends. Their running back, Scotty Hansen, used to come over to my house after school almost every day, because his mom worked late. We went to school together for eight years. We grew up together. And we’ve played ball together since we were like, five. How am I supposed to play against him?”
“Oh, I hear you,” Andrew replied. “I don’t think I’d like having to play football against the guys on the Wildcats.”
“Exactly,” Logan said, shaking his head.
Andrew glanced up at the game clock. The second half was about to start.
“We should get out there,” Andrew said. “But you know what?”
Logan looked at the linebacker. “What?” he asked.
“I think maybe it isn’t about being a bad friend,” Andrew said. “Because really all of us are just out here because we love playing football, right?”
“Right,” Logan replied. “I guess that’s why I’ve always played. Scotty too. He loves the game.”
“And the truth is, if you’re not trying to stop Hansen from running the ball or catching that screen pass,” Andrew went on, “then Hansen doesn’t get to play real football.”
Andrew pushed open the doors to the field. “He might as well go play with the peewee league,” he added. “Know what I mean?”
Logan nodded as he walked through the door. “Yeah,” he said. “I know exactly what you mean.”