One minute and forty-four seconds left in the second quarter. The temperature has dropped at least two degrees. It’s full snow now. Still wet and heavy, but no longer sleet, and there’s at least half an inch coating the field. The line markings are invisible. A couple of middle school kids with brooms sweep the sidelines clean every time the play stops, but on the field, the yardage markers might as well not exist.
After that first play, they moved the ball down the field in two- and three-yard chunks, Coach Diggins deciding to go for it on fourth down when they were on the Kilton Valley eighteen, converting, and again when they were on the one-yard line, punching in for the touchdown. Up seven zip before Kilton Valley touched the ball. Other than that first pass, however, it’s been bruising football. The punters on both teams getting a lot of work. Cortaca hasn’t even gotten it past the fifty-yard line since the opening series. Kilton Valley only on the board because their kicker is a senior and committed to playing at Colgate University. Not a football powerhouse, but still, a Division I school is a D-I school. Despite the weather, their kicker hit a forty-seven-yard field goal at the end of the first quarter. The score has been stuck at 7–3 all of the second quarter.
But now, with less than two minutes until halftime, Kilton Valley is on the Bears’ eleven-yard line. Third down and three to go. The Cougars have been riding Corson hard. The running back is already over a hundred yards for the day. He’s only broken one run, for twenty yards, and Jessup brought him down from behind, but there have been a couple of others that have been close. Sooner or later, with the ground the way it is, Corson is going to go long. Jessup knows this, but mostly, at this moment, he’s only worried about short yardage. There’s the eleven yards between the line of scrimmage and his end zone, and there’s the three yards between the Cougars and a first down. If Corson picks up the first down, the Cougars have three more shots at the end zone before settling for a field goal. But worse, playing to protect only those three yards leaves Cortaca vulnerable for the whole eleven. The problem is that it’s not just Corson Jessup is worried about; the Kilton Valley quarterback has been throwing, no matter the snow. Short throws, but it’s meant Jessup has had to stay on his toes, calling out defensive alignments and shifts. He’s broken up two passes, but he can tell by the way his teammates are moving that they’re gassed. On their last possession, Cortaca punted from the fifty, the Cougars taking the ball inside the ten; they’ve backed the Bears eighty yards down the field.
And then he sees it. The quarterback has Kilton Valley lined up for what will be an obvious rollout to the left side. Anybody can see what the play is going to be. The whole offense is tilted left: there are two receivers split wide, the tight end looking back, and the fullback with his body angled to clear space for the quarterback. When the center snaps the ball, the quarterback is supposed to run left and then either keep the ball himself or toss it into the end zone. Except that there’s a reason Coach Diggins has them watch so much tape.
If Kilton Valley runs the play correctly, as the entire offense swings left, the quarterback paced by the fullback, the receivers flashing open, the defense follows suit, swallowing the play hook, line, and sinker. The whole thing is a feint. As the play starts, Corson, the running back, jams right against the tide, and instead of keeping the ball or throwing to a receiver, the quarterback turns and zips a fastball across to the other side of the field, where Corson has a wide corridor into the end zone.
Jessup looks over his teammates and sees that none of them have recognized it. They are all about to bite hard on the play: every single player on defense is oriented toward the overload, ready to protect the strong side. The smart move here is for Jessup to yell it out, make a defensive shift. He can call for a weak side pickup—peel the strong safety and the outside linebacker out, doubling Corson—or make the shift himself and cover Corson as he runs. Either option would take away Corson as an option. It would mean trusting the corners and the free safety to cover the tight end and the receivers in the end zone, forcing the quarterback to keep the ball himself. Best-case scenario, somebody takes the quarterback down behind the line of scrimmage, fourth down, and the Kilton Valley Cougars settle for the easy field goal, Jessup goes into the locker room at halftime with his team up seven to six.
His job is to recognize what the offense is doing, to make the call and shift the defense, but he decides against it. It’s a huge gamble, but he figures if nobody else on his team has recognized the play, maybe Corson and the Kilton Valley quarterback won’t realize Jessup has sussed it out.
He creeps up to the line, showing blitz. Let them think he’s coming hard at the quarterback. He’s on the weak side, the side Corson is going to be rolling to, and Jessup is careful to keep his eyes on the quarterback. As the quarterback puts out his hand, he takes one more quick scan of the field, and Jessup sees the gleam in the boy’s eye; as far as he can tell, the entire Cortaca High School football team is about to make a huge mistake.
The quarterback hits his cadence, “hut, hut, hut,” and the center snaps the ball. Immediately, the quarterback and the fullback and the entire offensive line start sweeping left. The defense follows. But not Jessup. Jessup has pivoted and is running hard away from the play. He’s following Corson.
He doesn’t even bother looking for the ball. He’s watching Corson. The running back sprints to the right and then stops and pivots. Corson is locked in, tunnel vision on the quarterback. The quarterback has already turned and is slinging the ball across the field, but with the wet and the cold, the ball is high. Corson has to jump, his hands up above his head. He’s a full yard behind the line of scrimmage as the ball comes to him.
Jessup times it perfectly. He’s fast. He runs the one hundred and two hundred in track and field for a reason. He’s running full speed as he propels himself. Corson’s locked in on the football, doesn’t even see what’s about to happen.
Jessup blows him up.
He absolutely murders Corson.