A whistle sang out and eight Cowpen Panthers turned to their coach. Tully wore faded old sweats, and the boys had on gray practice jerseys and carried helmets.
Tully called, “Fellas, gather round.”
Cap was amazed that it had happened so fast. Grandpa had called Principal Vinson, who thought six-man football was a great idea. He had spoken to other principals, and five schools—Sandville, Moosetown, Ausburg, Elmsford, and Bee Town—had organized teams of their own.
Tully and Mr. Vinson had contacted schools all over Texas and even some in Oklahoma. The schools had sent old uniforms and gear they no longer needed. The local schools had bought footballs and laid out fields that were eighty yards long and forty across.
In two weeks, the Cowpen Panthers would battle the Sandville 'Cudas in the first game of the season. Each team would play every other team in a five-game schedule.
Tully looked at the eight players and frowned. “Weren't there nine names on the bulletin board sign-up sheet?”
“Where's Jimmy Cash?” asked Sam Dracus, the fastest boy there and their probable deep threat. “His name was on the list.”
“Well, he's late,” said Tully. “Or he changed his mind.”
Cap shook his head. “You mean this is all we're going to have? Eight guys?”
His grandfather replied, “All we need is six. Eight is enough, if we work at it.”
“Well, but…” Cap looked at the little team. “How can we practice plays? We won't have a full offense and defense.”
Tully shrugged. “We'll work it out. Meanwhile, let's do what we need to do first, which is learn how this game is played. Okay?”
The players all nodded, including Cap. But he couldn't see how the problem would be solved. Other teams would have a big edge over Cowpen if they could field two squads for practice and the Panthers couldn't.
Tully smiled. “First, here are some ways this game is different from the one on TV. This is more wide open, there's more room for imaginative plays, and scores may be high. As far as passing goes, it's similar—except everyone can catch a pass.
“But you can't run the ball until the man who takes the snap makes a clear pass. That means a pass that goes back or sideways, a lateral. After that, you can run the ball. No handoffs, sneaks, or bootlegs, no runs period, until that clear pass. Breaking that rule costs you five yards and loss of down. Don't forget.” Tully looked at the eight boys in front of him. “Now, have we got a placekicker?”
Hesitantly, Hoot raised his hand. “I can kick, a little. I tried a few times once and I actually put one between the goalposts, in three tries. But I'm not much good at it.”
Tully grinned. “Work on your kicking fifteen minutes a day. A good kicker is valuable. Remember, in this game a field goal gets you four points. After a touchdown, you get one point when you run or pass, but two points if you kick it. So—”
“Hey,” said a voice behind Tully “Sorry we're late, Grandpa couldn't start the truck.”
Tully turned and smiled at the new arrival, a tall boy with a shock of black hair. “You must be Jimmy Cash. Well, you haven't missed much, Jimmy, I've just been going over some rules.”
“That's all right. I told Jimmy all about the rules last night. I still know 'em.” The speaker was a lanky man with gray hair and a mustache who strolled up smiling.
Tully smiled too, but Cap didn't think there was pleasure in the smile. “Sable Cash.”
Sable nodded. “I thought you boys could use a quarterback.”
“Well, fine, Sable. Actually, my grandson, Cap here, is a quarterback, too. The boy has a rifle arm … like his granddad.”
Sable chuckled as though he'd heard a good joke. “Yes, I recollect you could throw a fair pass back then … pretty near as good as me.”
Tully's smile grew thin. “I recall that Cowpen was undefeated our senior year, and Sandville finished second.”
“Right. I broke my leg and couldn't play the last game against you, or it would've been different. Jimmy here is good. I hope you give him a fair chance—even if he isn't a relative.”
Tully's face turned red. “Everybody will get a shot. Today's only our first practice.”
Sable Cash looked unconvinced. “You need help with the coaching? I have some time.” Cap saw Ben and Hoot exchange a look.
“I don't expect I'll need you, thanks.” Tully's words were polite and his tone soft, but Cap knew Grandpa was steamed. He looked at Jimmy and caught the other boy staring at him. They both dropped their eyes.
“Hmph,” grunted Sable, shaking his head. “Jimmy, I'll pick you up later and I want a full report of what you all did today. You hear?”
“Sure.” Jimmy didn't look happy.
Tully watched Sable walk away and said, “Boys, give me a minute.”
He walked after Sable, caught his arm, and the two began to speak. Cap couldn't hear them but it didn't look like a friendly chat.
Hoot nudged Cap's arm. “Hey, Cap, you're going to be our quarterback, aren't you? Your grandpa's the coach, right?”
“Well…” Cap looked at Jimmy talking to Sam Dracus and Fritz Marconi, who was new in town and whom Cap didn't know. He didn't really know Jimmy either, except to say hi to. Just because there were only a few kids in school didn't mean everybody hung out with everybody else.
Cap felt confused and not sure what to say. Ever since the idea of six-man football had come up, he had just assumed that he'd be the quarterback. Grandpa was always talking about what a great passer he was, the best he'd ever seen. Now, though … maybe Jimmy Cash was a great passer too. What then?
“Grandpa will do what's right,” he assured Hoot. He believed it too. He just hoped that “what's right” meant he'd be the starting quarterback.