After school the next day, the Crocs were suited up and ready to go on their rough-and-tough practice field.
Coach Willman set up a few old plays he’d found in the old coach’s desk. Mason worked with the offensive line, setting up how to properly keep the defensive team back. Kirk threw to his receivers in the backfield and pitched the ball to his running backs.
Before anyone realized it, Coach Willman’s hour was up.
“I hate to do this, guys,” Coach said. “But I’ve got to go. I have a ton of work to do for classes this week.”
“That’s okay,” Mason said, nodding. “We’re having extra practices at my house every day until Friday’s game. Is it cool if we bring the gear there?”
Coach Willman nodded. “That would be fine,” he replied.
“If you think you could work on that stuff for your classes while we’re practicing, you could stop by,” Kirk suggested.
A slow smile crossed their history teacher’s face. “You know,” he said, fixing his glasses, “I might just do that.”
* * *
At Mason’s house, the guys marked off a section of the old farm field to use as a practice space. While some of the guys worked on the routes for their plays, the linemen practiced tackling each other.
Meanwhile, Mason tossed the ball to Kirk. “Ready to work on snaps?” he asked.
Kirk shrugged. “I guess so,” he said. “If you think it’s important.”
“It’s probably the most important part,” Mason said. “A missed snap is a fumble. The other team can snatch it up and run it into the end zone.”
“Great,” Kirk muttered. “Now I have that to worry about.”
“You’ll be fine,” Mason promised. “I’m a pretty decent center. I made sure Drew never missed a snap.”
Mason got into position. Then he told Kirk where to go.
“Stand behind me with your hands low. Make a C with your hands,” Mason called. “You’ll watch the line and make sure everyone is where they’re supposed to be. Then you can call for the snap,” he added.
After four tries, Kirk got the hang of it. Mason showed him how to grip the ball and take a few steps back.
“You can see if the play is working and who’s open,” Mason said. “Of course, don’t go too far back. We’ll lose some major yardage if you get sacked.”
“Got it,” Kirk said. Then both of the boys saw Coach Willman walking over to them. He was holding an armload of papers.
“Look who’s here!” Jerry shouted. “How’s it going, Coach?”
Coach Willman waved, almost losing his paperwork. “I felt guilty being at home while you guys are working,” he said. “I’ll try coaching and correcting a test or two.”
“Sounds good,” Mason said. “We’re just about to run some plays.”
From then until dark, the Crocs played football. They knocked each other into the dirt, ran passing plays, and moved the ball down the field. On Wednesday and Thursday, they did more of the same, spending time on defense and special teams.
After their last practice on Thursday night, all of the Crocs lay on the grass. Their football gear was filthy and soaked with sweat.
“We’re going to be too tired to play tomorrow,” Wyatt said. “I can barely move.”
“We’ll be fine,” Mason said. “We’ll get onto their fancy field tomorrow night, and you’ll forget about being sore.”
The rest of the team was quiet. Mason wondered if they were scared, excited, or both. No matter what, he knew, game time was in less than twenty-four hours.