Crackback by John Coy Read Free Book Online

Jonesy as I bounce off the field.
    â€œAwesome blitz, Man. I watched you all the way. That’s one screwed-up Pirate.” He pushes me with his good arm.
    Our ball at the Clifton twelve. Nice way for Stillwell to start. Two running plays gain six. On third and four, Coach calls a pass to Brooksy in the flat.
    â€œDown, set, hit.” Stillwell spins and Brooksy is wide open. Stillwell tosses a strike. Touchdown.
    â€œYeahhh.” We’re rollin’. We’re going to be okay.
    Clifton brings in a new quarterback. I want Coach to call the blitz so I can knock him out, but we play it straight. Three downs and the Pirates punt.
    We keep giving the offense good field position, and Stillwell looks sharp. At halftime we’re up 21-0, and we roar into the locker room. “Let’s hold them to zero,” I shout. Coach Stahl nods.
    Jonesy uses his left hand to diagram pass patterns for Stillwell. It must be hard for him not to be playing.
    When we go up 28-0, Coach pulls first defense and puts in the second string. He stays with first offense, though. I’m sure he wants Stillwell to get more work with them.
    â€œWatch the hook and go,” Zach calls to Bachman, his backup.
    â€œTell them to sharpen their cutlasses,” I yell. I’m still buzzing from the Blast.
    Bachman looks confused and Zach waves him off. “Hook and go,” he says.
    Jonesy and I are pretending to swordfight when Coach Stahl notices. “Don’t celebrate early,” he says. We haven’t given up any points, but he has to warn us about something. I’m glad to see Jonesy laughing.
    On the first play of the fourth quarter, Stillwell dropsback on a center screen. It’s a timing play, and he waits an extra second for Monson to get open. Stillwell plants to throw, and the Clifton end slams into his leg. Everyone on our bench stares in silence. Stillwell squirms in pain as coaches and trainers push to get to him.
    Instantly the energy of the game changes. On their sideline, Pirate players exchange high fives. Celebrating someone getting hurt is wrong. Then I remember. That’s exactly what I was doing with Jonesy in the first quarter.
    Across the field, Dad stands along the fence. He hadn’t told me he was driving all the way over here. He’s shaking his head as Stillwell is wheeled to the ambulance. People in the stands clap politely. What are they clapping for? Relief their son isn’t hurt?
    Coach Stahl walks over. “That’s why we don’t celebrate early. Anything can happen in a football game.”
    Our celebrating had nothing to do with Stillwell getting hurt, but I don’t respond. I look over at Jonesy, who’s rubbing his eyes with his head down. Who’s our quarterback now?
    â€œFox,” Sepolski hollers. “Get in there.”

chapter twelve
    Zach leans over on the bus. “We gotta turn it up on D.”
    â€œYeah.” Maybe Stillwell’s injury won’t be serious, but from the way he was wheeled off, it looks bad. Two quarterbacks down. Going to State is going to be a lot harder. I bite my nails as we drive through the dark.
    Zach and I swing by Izzy’s. The usual crowd is there yelling and celebrating.
    â€œConfluence rules,” a girl in a blue Bug yells.
    So many people don’t know anything about football. They see 28-7 and think it’s great. They have no idea that Stillwell getting hurt is worse than losing the game.
    Strangler’s saved us the booth in back. “How’s Stillwell?”
    â€œHe’s at the hospital in Clifton for X-rays.” I don’t feel hungry.
    Jonesy comes over with a large Mountain Dew. “Bad news. Stillwell’s leg is broken in two places.”
    â€œHow’d you find out?” I slide over to make room.
    â€œWe called his house and his brother told us. He has to have a screw put in.” Jonesy can’t get the paper off his straw, so I rip