Game Changers by Mike Lupica Read Free Book Online Page A

hand.
    â€œBen McBain,” he said, introducing himself even though they’d just played a whole game against each other. “And hey? Let’s do this again in the championship game.”
    â€œBrian DeBartolo,” the other boy said. “And about the championship game? I’m totally down with that.”
    Ben knew he was holding things up, didn’t care. “That play you made, it was, like, mad crazy,” he said.
    â€œLucky guess,” Brian said. “I just figured that when the game was on the line, they were going to you. And when your QB turned, he was only looking at you.”
    When he’d finished shaking everybody’s hand, telling them good game, there was a moment, as Ben took the long walk back to the Rams’ bench, when he tried to remember what he’d felt like in the morning. Before. But right now he couldn’t, as hard as he tried. Truth was, he felt as bad as Shawn looked, still sitting there, same spot, end of the bench.
    Even Coach O’Brien didn’t go over there, as if he knew this was a time to leave his own son alone. Ben knew with his own parents: It was one of the things parents seemed to know. Not always. But sometimes they just seemed to know when there was a force field around you.
    So he just motioned the rest of the guys to gather aroundhim in front of the bench, as if Shawn wasn’t even a part of the team in that moment. Or maybe Coach just knew he could say whatever he wanted to say to Shawn later.
    â€œListen, guys,” Coach said, “losing the first one this way will just make winning the first one next week even sweeter.”
    Then: “I’m not looking to give you a pep talk right now. Mostly because you don’t want one. And I’m not gonna lie to you, it stinks having one get ripped away from us that way. But it’s one game. Be proud of the way you fought back today, be proud of the way you took it down the field the way you did at the end. I knew we had talent with this group. Now I find out how much character you’ve all got. See you Monday at practice.”
    Ben wanted to go over and say something to Shawn, felt like he ought to say something. But before he had the chance, he watched Shawn stand up, take off his helmet, start walking by himself toward the parking lot.
    And Ben knew what he wanted to say: That they won as a team and lost as a team, and not to be too hard on himself, they could all probably go back and find something, a play or two, that could have had them ahead before they tried to drive the ball down the field at the end.
    Too late. Ben didn’t want to make a show out of running to catch up with him. So he let him go, watched him take the long walk across the soccer field at The Rock and then the baseball field on the other side of that, to the parking lot where his dad’s SUV was, Shawn getting smaller the farther away he got from the game he’d just played.
    Looking to Ben in that moment as if he’d lost more than a football game.
    The next thing Ben saw was Shawn’s helmet flying through the air, bouncing high off the concrete in the parking lot, like that was his last bad pass of the game.

Ben couldn’t stop thinking about how mad Shawn looked after the game. Like he was mad at the world. He thought about calling him Saturday night, just to see how he was doing, decided to leave it alone.
    But after church on Sunday morning he told his mom that he was going to take a ride over to Shawn’s house on his bike.
    His mom said, “Don’t you want to try calling him first?”
    Ben said, “I’m afraid that if I do, he’ll tell me not to come.”
    She smiled. “Like that would ever stop you.”
    â€œHe makes it rough to like him sometimes. Really rough. But I just feel like I gotta do something, just to be a good teammate.”
    â€œNot ‘good,’ pal. Great. You’re a great teammate.”
    They were both at