As I turned, I found Todd almost right on top of me, and he reached to slap the ball out of my left hand to cause a fumble. The cornerback’s momentum carried him into Todd’s legs. Todd’s knee struck the cornerback’s other ear-hole, and the cornerback’s forward progress rolled up Todd’s knee. There was a loud impact, and I cringed as Todd screamed in pain. I looked behind me, and the outside linebacker who had come across the line of scrimmage had me in his sights. I decided to use the pile of bodies next to me and jumped over them. Their other linebacker tried to do the same, but came up short and stepped on one of Todd’s calves. The linebacker who chased me twisted his foot, there was an audible pop, and then their outside linebacker screamed out in pain. Wolf was one-on-one with a safety, so I threw him the ball in the end zone. I threw it high so he could use his superior reach to pull it in for the score.
I waved frantically to the King sideline. This was what I’d feared might happen. They stopped the game to check on the three injured players. The cornerback was out cold, and I became worried when they brought out a backboard and a cart for him. I could see that both linebackers were in considerable pain. I stepped over to Todd and took his hand.
“You’re going to be okay,” I told him.
“I’m scared,” he admitted. “I might lose my scholarship.”
“You want me to talk to Alabama for you?” I asked.
“You’d do that for me?” he asked.
“Look, I’m a close friend with one of their coaches. I can’t promise anything, but I can make a call.”
“You suck,” he said as he gritted his teeth.
“And you swallow,” I shot back.
Yeah, we acted like we were twelve, but we were guys. I smiled when he flipped me off as they finally carted him off the field.
◊◊◊
When I made it back to the locker room, my phone rang. Usually, I would ignore it, but the caller ID said ‘Bo Harrington.’
“Hey,” I said.
“Take that damned mic off,” he ordered me.
Shit! I had just talked to Todd on national TV. I hung up, found one of the ESPN crew, and had them take it off me. I was sure Bo wasn’t mad, but I didn’t need to be seen making deals with Alabama. Heck, I wanted Jim to be able to get the scholarship he wanted.
We were up 9–0. There was no way that would be enough points. King High School averaged nearly forty-five points per game. They would come back with a vengeance in the second half. That is unless we could keep them off-balance. I expect Coach Hope felt the same way because he told Coach Diamond to let me loose in the second half.
We received the ball to start the second half. We had no delusions; a school King’s size had enough good players that the loss of three of them on defense didn’t hurt them as much as it would have us. Their backups would start on most teams.
We started on our 20 yard line after Ty downed it in the end zone. Coach Diamond called a pass play to start the half, which of course made me happy. On the snap, Roc beat his corner and used his long legs to gain separation from his defender. Coach Mason always said that the long ball was a killer. Roc caught his pass in stride and was too fast for the safety to come over and help. We were up 16–0.
We traded punts for most of the third quarter when King came alive. Yuri slipped on a sure tackle, and that provided the break their running back needed. He was off to the races, and we never caught him. That made the score 16–8 as they completed a two-point conversion.
On the next series, they finally sacked me. It was one of those where I got blindsided. If it hadn’t been for my training at the dojo on how to fall, I would have been hurt. I did fumble the ball which set up King for a short drive for another score and two-point conversion to tie the game up at 16–all.
As the fourth quarter started, Coach Diamond explained how they had set me up for the sack. He showed me they were also working on setting me up to throw an interception. We had the ball and decided to run it some to slow down their rush. We had a misdirection play that we’d used with some success in the past. I would start in the shotgun, and all the pass patterns and line blocking would look like the play intended to go right. I would take a few steps in that direction and act like I would throw to Wolf on the outside.
Jake would circle behind me as he ran the other direction. He would flash me a hand sign if the backside rush seemed about to get me. If they were, I would toss the ball to Jake. If not, I would pivot, and we would do a two-man option. This time he signaled I had a problem. I tossed him the ball and fell down to minimize the hit. Jake ran around the left end. King had drifted to the right, which gave him an opening for a nine-yard gain.
