Chapter 6

Scooter

As I stood there waiting for the play to start, I told myself to calm down.

C’mon, Scott, I thought. This is your chance. Don’t blow it.

It’s what I’d been thinking that whole first practice.

Like I said before, I’ve always been shy. But this was out of control. I’d hardly said a word the whole time—not even when the Coach or Jeff had asked me questions. I wanted so badly to impress them—to make them think that I wasn’t just some runty kid with no football experience. Even though that’s exactly what I was. It was like my brain and mouth had been disconnected. Most of the time I hadn’t been able to think of anything to say. Even when I did come up with something, my mouth hadn’t let me say it.

And now here I was, about to get my first handoff, and my brain had stopped working completely. Jeff had explained the difference between a dive and a veer, hadn’t he? Which side did the coach say to run—right or left?

I couldn’t remember.

“Hut!” the quarterback yelled.