Touchdown for Tommy by Matt Christopher Read Free Book Online Page B

two tackles went out. Substitutes went in. The Pirates kicked off. A Jets player caught the end-over-end
     kick and carried it back to the Pirates’ twenty-nine.
    As he watched from the bench, Tommythought, Please, please let the Powells be able to keep me!
    A loud outburst from the stands wiped away Tommy’s thoughts. A green-and-white jersey crossed the goal line. The Jets had
     made a touchdown.
    They converted for the extra point. Now the score was tied: 7-7.
    Tommy went back into the game in the second half. In the huddle, David looked across at him and winked. “Come on! Let’s get
     some touchdowns!” he said in a low voice. “Let’s try number one, the play Coach Powell taught us the other day.”
    The Pirates lined up in T-formation. Signals. David took the ball, pivoted, and handed it to Tim. Tim raced around the right
     end. A five-yard gain!
    The Pirates kept moving down the field. Four yards on an off-tackle run. Two yardson a line plunge. Eight yards on a forward pass. Then the Jets held. The Pirates lost the ball on the Jets’ sixteen-yard line.
    Now the Jets rolled. Six yards. Three. Five. A pass. A long run.
    First and ten. Twenty yards to go for a touchdown.
    Another pass. It was incomplete. Second and ten.
    The quarter ended.
    Substitutions were made on both sides.
    The score was still 7-7.
    The Jets lost the ball to the Pirates at the start of the fourth quarter. Then the Jets intercepted a pass and ran the ball
     to their thirty-five. First and ten. They drove through the tackle and gained two yards. They completed a short pass for six
     more yards. A line plunge gave them another first down.
    The Jets rolled again and got within twenty yards of the goal line. The secondsticked away fast. Soon the game would be over. The season would be over. Maybe all the good things would be over.
    A substitute came in. Tommy went out and sat down on the bench. He wiped his sleeve across his sweating brow.
    Suddenly a hand squeezed his shoulder. Tommy looked around.
    “Mr. Powell!” he cried. “Mrs. Powell! Betty!” His breath caught. All three were there, standing behind him. They were smiling.
     And Mrs. Powell and Betty had tears in their eyes.
    “Tommy, we have good news!” said Mr. Powell. “We had to see the children’s court judge and talk with several people. And then
     we drove over to those folks who were coming to see you tomorrow. We told them we had filed papers to adopt you, and that
     you wanted to stay with us. They said it was all right!”
    “You — you mean they let you adopt me?”
    “Yes. It’ll take months before you’re legally ours, but at least we know now for sure.”
    Tommy choked up. He turned and looked at the players on the field through blurred eyes.
    “Okay, Tommy! Get in there!” Mr. Adams snapped. “Send Jim out!”
    His heart beating fast, Tommy yanked on his helmet and raced out onto the field.
    The signals. The snap of the ball. Tommy heard the sounds as if from miles away. His man pushed him back. Tommy almost fell.
     Then he saw the Jets’ quarterback fade back… back. Saw his right hand raised, ready to throw a forward pass.
    Tommy spun. The pass was meant for his man!
    Tommy ran back and chased after the end. The quarterback’s arm whipped forward.The ball came flying through the air in a spiral. As it passed over Tommy’s head, he leapt. He intercepted the ball! His feet
     came down to the ground. He tucked the ball under his arm and ran down the field.
    From his right, Jets players chased after him like a swarm of bees. The stripes flew under Tommy’s pumping legs. He crossed
     the forty, the thirty-five, the thirty, the twenty-five, the twenty.
    The Jets players came closer, closer. The fifteen, the ten. Hands reached for Tommy’s jersey. The eight, the seven. Hands
     touched his back. The six, the five, the four, the three …
    The hands went around his legs, and brought him down!
    A whistle shrilled. Tommy looked up, the ball still clutched in