Emergency Quarterback (2 page)
“As long as you don’t stay out too late,” said his mom. She was also an athlete—a tennis player and runner. “Here’s your jacket.”
“I’m not cold, Mom. And I’m not even hungry. I just need to talk to the guys. Figure out what to do about the quarterback situation.”
Mrs. Fiorelli laughed. “I think the coaches will figure that one out. Besides, Wade was the starter a year ago. He’ll be fine.”
Jason rolled his eyes. “They won
two games
last season. Wade’s terrible.”
two games
last season. Wade’s terrible.”
“He’s the best you’ve got,” Mrs. Fiorelli said.
“That’s not saying much.”
Anthony and Miguel had walked over. “Ready for some fine dining?” asked Anthony, a powerful lineman with a round, brown face and a wide smile.
“Very ready,” Jason replied. “Let’s go.”
They walked up to El Torito, a small Mexican restaurant on the Boulevard that was run by Miguel’s uncle. They took a booth by the front window and snacked on salsa and chips while they waited for their tacos to arrive.
“Still can’t believe it,” Miguel said, wiping spicy sauce from the corner of his mouth with his thumb. He had intense, dark eyes and the slightest beginnings of a mustache sprouting above his lip. “Biggest game of the year is next week and we’re stuck with Wade again.”
Wade was an eighth-grader, a year ahead of Jason and his friends. He’d been the starting quarterback for the seventh-and-eighth-grade team the year before, when Vinnie DiMarco was leading the fifth-and-sixth-graders.
Vinnie had consistently outplayed Wade during summer training camp this year, so it was no surprise to anyone but Wade when Coach Podesta named Vinnie as the starter a few days before the first game. Vinnie had proven that the coach made the right decision by leading the team to five straight wins. But now his season was over.
Jason stared glumly out the window. Anthony gave him a light smack on the arm. “Hey!” he said. “We won. You look like we got clobbered.”
Jason just nodded. Words usually poured out of his mouth in an energetic, joking stream. But not tonight.
“Show me the hand,” Anthony said firmly.
“What?”
“The hand. The one that made that famous, one-handed, game-winning grab.”
Jason fought back a smile. He spread out the fingers of his left hand and held it over the table.
“That’s the one!” Anthony said. “Oooooh. That’s something.”
Jason laughed now and pulled back his hand.
“No,” Anthony said. “Hold it up. Let everybody see.”
A waitress walked by carrying a tray of food. She glanced at the boys.
“Look at this hand!” Anthony said to her, grabbing Jason by the wrist and holding it up. “He’s got glue on his fingers or something. Or else it really is his birthday. The boy can catch anything. Throw that tray of food over here. He won’t spill a drop.”
The waitress smiled and shook her head.
“Throw him a fork, at least. He’ll catch it.”
Jason pulled his hand out of Anthony’s grasp and turned to face his friend head-on. “Shut up,” he said playfully. “And it ain’t my birthday.”
Anthony poked Jason in the chest with a finger. “We’re undefeated. We can win without Vinnie.”
“I know.”
“Vinnie wasn’t in there for the game-winning play.”
“I know.”
“Wade was.”
“I know.... But Wade threw the lamest pass of the year. It wasn’t anywhere near me.”
“You got to it.”
“I know.”
“Repeat after me,” Anthony said, reciting one of the cheerleaders’ most common riffs. “‘T-E-A-M. Yaaay
team.’
We lost one guy. We’re too good to let that stop us.”
team.’
We lost one guy. We’re too good to let that stop us.”
Anthony said he needed to use the restroom. When he came back, he was obviously trying to suppress a laugh.
“What?” Jason asked.
“Nothing.” But it soon become clear what he was laughing about. The sounds of “Happy Birthday” came over from the jukebox, and he and Miguel started singing. When the song reached
“Happy birthday, dear ...” there was only music instead of the name, so they provided it: “Jason!”
Jason just shook his head slowly with an embarrassed grin. “It’s not my birthday,” he said over and over.
Jason’s parents were reading the newspaper at the kitchen table the next morning when he came down for breakfast. He was wearing baggy gray gym shorts and a red T-shirt that said HORNET PRIDE.
“Can I have the sports section?” he asked.
He flipped quickly through the pages of professional and high-school sports coverage, finding the youth sports section on page 7. He scanned the standings for the East Jersey Junior Football League (which everybody referred to as the E-Double-J-F-L).
Saturday’s scores:
Liberty 23, West Newark 21
Hudson City 15, South Bergen 14
Arlington 13, Palisades 7
Hoboken 27, Greenville 6
Next week:
Liberty at Hoboken
South Bergen at Arlington
Bayonne at Hudson City
Greenville at West Newark
With three games left, Hudson City was very much in control of its destiny. But Bayonne would be the toughest test yet, and then, after a game with Palisades, the Hornets would end the season against Hoboken. Hoboken had won the title three out of the past four seasons. Hudson City hadn’t won it in twenty years. In fact, the town had won very few titles in any sport. Jason was determined to change all that.
Ever since he’d learned to read he had been checking out the sports section, dreaming that one day he’d see a photo of himself there, with a big headline like
Fiorelli Leads Hornets to Title
or
Hudson City Triumphs Behind Fiorelli.
Of course, youth sports rarely made the headlines; it was all professional, collegiate, or high school. And even though he was too young to do anything about it yet, it bothered him that the high-school headlines were usually along the lines of
Bayonne Stomps Hudson City
or
Hornets Stung by Hoboken.
Fiorelli Leads Hornets to Title
or
Hudson City Triumphs Behind Fiorelli.
Of course, youth sports rarely made the headlines; it was all professional, collegiate, or high school. And even though he was too young to do anything about it yet, it bothered him that the high-school headlines were usually along the lines of
Bayonne Stomps Hudson City
or
Hornets Stung by Hoboken.
But he knew a change was coming. His class—the seventh-graders led by himself, DiMarco, Miguel, and the others—was building a tradition of winning. Last winter, Jason had been a starter for the Hudson City Middle School basketball team that won the league crown. And here they were again, undefeated in football.
Jason was leading the league in total number of receptions (27), touchdown receptions (6), and scoring. In addition to the six touchdown catches, he’d scored on a running play and a punt return. Last night’s two-point conversion gave him fifty points for the season.
He was the type of athlete who always made things happen. Whether it was basketball, football, or just a pickup game of hockey on the playground, he was in the center of the action. Usually he came out as a winner—he had great natural ability, and observers often commented that his performances on the field or on the court seemed effortless.
He picked up the phone and dialed Vinnie’s number. “Hey, Mrs. DiMarco,” Jason said when she answered. “Good news or bad?”
“Not great,” she said. “It’s not a bad break, so it should heal fine. But it’ll take a while. You want to talk to him?”
“Yeah.”
It was several minutes before Vinnie picked up. He sounded tired and far away.
“How you doing?” Jason asked.
“Okay, I guess.”
“We won.”
“I heard. That’s a relief.”
“You threw the winning touchdown pass.”
Vinnie gave a short, grunting laugh. “I paid for it, too. As soon as I let go of the ball, I got drilled.”
“Well, it was a good pass.”
“Last one for this season.”
“I know,” Jason said. “We’re dead.”
“No you ain’t.”
“How do you figure?”
“Wade can handle it. He started last year. He almost started
this
year.”
this
year.”
“No way. It wasn’t even close.”
“Closer than you think. He’s not
that
bad. You guys just have to work on him. He’s selfish and he plays it too safe, but he can throw the ball if the line just gives him some time.”
that
bad. You guys just have to work on him. He’s selfish and he plays it too safe, but he can throw the ball if the line just gives him some time.”
“I don’t know,” Jason said. It was probably true that the team could continue winning, but the individual honors mattered to him, too. He needed to catch a lot more passes if he was going to lead the league in receiving.
But without Vinnie throwing the ball, how many more receptions would he get? Winning the championship probably depended on that number.
“We need you badly,” he said.
“Ain’t gonna happen,” Vinnie said. “Just hang in there. The worst thing you could do is give up now.”
3
Scrambling man
J
ason jogged across the practice field Monday afternoon, out of breath from another long, fruitless sprint along the sideline. He’d been open, but Wade hadn’t even looked his way. Instead, he’d been sacked in the backfield trying to carry the ball himself.
ason jogged across the practice field Monday afternoon, out of breath from another long, fruitless sprint along the sideline. He’d been open, but Wade hadn’t even looked his way. Instead, he’d been sacked in the backfield trying to carry the ball himself.
“Where was the pass?” Jason said to the tall, awkward quarterback as they huddled up.
“You took too long to get open,” Wade said, looking away. “They were all over me.”
“I’ve got my man beat,” Jason said. “Every play. Just get the ball to me.”
“I’m
in charge here,” Wade said, shaking his head. He kneeled among the offensive players. “Eighty-three,” he said, calling for a long-pass play. He glanced up at Jason, then looked straight ahead. “On three. Let’s go.”
in charge here,” Wade said, shaking his head. He kneeled among the offensive players. “Eighty-three,” he said, calling for a long-pass play. He glanced up at Jason, then looked straight ahead. “On three. Let’s go.”
Jason spread out wide to the left, nearly to the sideline. Cornerback Calvin Tait took a few steps in toward Jason, then stepped back. Calvin was fast, but Jason was hard to contain.
Wade lined up in a shotgun position, several yards back from the center. He called signals and fielded the snap, dropping back and looking toward the sideline.
Jason sprinted out from the line and Calvin wheeled around to stay with him. The play called for Jason to simply outrun the defender, but Calvin had him covered well. So Jason gave a quick hesitation—forcing Calvin to stutter—and cut back toward the center of the field, a couple of steps in the clear.
And here came the football, but it soared way over Jason’s head and landed on the sideline.
Jason stood and stared at the ball. It hadn’t come close. Wade hadn’t completed a single pass to him all afternoon.
“What was that?” he said as he got back to the huddle.
“That was right where you were supposed to be,” Wade said sharply. “That’s the play.”
“But I wasn’t there! You ever hear of an adjustment? Calvin was on my butt so I changed the pattern.”
“I threw the ball where I was supposed to.”
“This ain’t a video game! I was wide open in the middle of the field. You didn’t see me?”
“I saw you running the wrong pattern.”
“So you threw it anyway?”
“I threw it where the play was designed to go.”
“You’re an idiot.”
Miguel put his hand on Jason’s chest and stepped between him and the quarterback. “Suck it up,” Miguel said. He turned to Wade. “You made your point, okay? But don’t throw the ball away to spite your own teammate.”
Wade just shrugged and called a play. He threw another incomplete pass, this time on the side of the field away from Jason.
The scrimmage proceeded that way for several minutes, with the defense dominating and the offensive players beginning to squabble in the huddle even more.
Coach Podesta had been watching quietly, letting the players try to work things out for themselves. He believed that a bit of tension and even some hot tempers in practice were not always bad things. Smart players would learn to. work together.
But Wade was clearly not doing much of a job leading the team. Coach had hoped that, given another shot to play, Wade would be ready to overcome the ego that had thwarted him the season before.
Eventually, Coach sent in substitutes for Jason and Sergio Guzman, the starting center.
“What’s up?” Jason asked as he reached the sideline.
“Start taking some snaps from Sergio,” Coach said. “I was hoping Wade could grow up, but I think I know what we have to do.”
“You’re putting me at quarterback?” Jason asked in disbelief.
“I want to give it a try,” Coach said. “We need a great athlete out there. A leader. Take a few practice snaps and we’ll see what you can do.”
“I’ve never played quarterback.”
“You know all the plays. You’ve got the skills. Let’s try it.”
Jason took a deep breath and wiped his sweaty hands on his pants. Sergio held up a ball and gave Jason a grin. “Football,” he said, twirling the ball around. “It’s very simple. I hike the ball to you, then I get hit by that ten-ton truck named Anthony. All he wants to do is run me over, chase you down, and make you eat this little ball. You’ve got three-tenths of a second to react. Have fun.”
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