Danny stood in the pouring rain. Drops of water rolled down his helmet, spattering off the rubber-coated metal facemask and wetting his face with a fine mist. He and the rest of the scrubs were huddled together on the sideline, like Cupcake’s cows on a frosty winter’s night.

This game at Layton Forks was supposed to be in the bag. The team was the doormat of Jericho County football and the only thing between Crooked Creek and the big game. It was late in the third quarter, and if Danny were to be totally honest, he’d have to admit that he didn’t care that the scoreboard read HOME 13, VISITORS 0 through the misty wet. Thinking back to the week of practice, he’d heard Coach Kinen scolding the team for goofing off and not taking Layton Forks seriously, which they hadn’t.

At the time, Danny couldn’t have cared less. He’d been too busy licking his own wounds. And now, it was nearly enjoyable to watch Coach Kinen’s purple-faced tirade at Markle for fumbling the ball no less than three times in the wet, muddy slop. After Markle’s fourth fumble, Danny crossed his arms and moved closer to the show. A small spark in his mind hinted at a change in the running back position.

Markle sulked off the field, kicking mud like a spoiled three-year-old. Coach Kinen met him at the edge of the field. The coach said something and when Markle shrugged, Coach Kinen went berserk. “Take a seat, Markle! You’re done!”

A jolt of excitement straightened Danny’s spine. The wet discomfort slipped away. Coach Kinen turned and surveyed the sideline.

When his eyes met Danny’s, everything about Danny’s appearance said he was ready to go.