The Dog That Stole Football Plays (2 page)

“Harry, you’d just be in the way,” Mike said. “And somebody might run out of bounds and step on you.”

“No one will step on me,” Harry answered. “And besides, I get tired of hanging around the house all by myself every afternoon.
Even talking dogs like to play a bit. And you’ll be surprised to find out how much I can help you.”

Mike didn’t think Harry would be any help at all, but he didn’t want him to be lonely, so he brought him to the first game
of the year.

Mike’s team was the Jets, and they were playing the Rams, who had won the championship last year. Mike hoped his team would
do well.

When the teams took the field, Harry stayed on the sidelines. Soon he managed to seat himself near the Rams’ bench. He cocked
his ears and began to listen very hard.

He soon discovered that the Rams’ coach sent instructions to the team on every important play.

“Jones, take the ball, and go over left tackle,” he heard the coach say.

“Mike, watch for Jones going over left tackle,” Harry thought.

On the field, Mike could scarcely believe what his dog had told him, but he ran up from his linebacker’s slot and made the
tackle. The Rams didn’t gain a yard.

“Yeah, Mike!” the fans cheered.

The game went on, and thanks to Harry, the Rams hardly moved the ball at all. At the end of the first half, the score was
Rams 0, Jets 0.

During the third quarter the Rams moved the ball to the Jets’ twenty-eight-yard line. The situation was tense.

“What’re you waiting for, Mike?” Butch said in the defensive huddle.

“Hold it!” said Mike.

The message was coming from Harry into his thoughts. “Thirty-two. Run through right tackle.”

Mike smiled. “OK, guys! A run through right tackle! Cover that hole!”

Sure enough, the Rams’ halfback tried
to bust through his right-tackle side, but he didn’t gain an inch. He
lost
a yard.

“Nice going, Mike!” cried Butch. “Good guess!”

The message from Harry came again. “Fourteen! Long pass down the right corner.”

Mike looked at Butch. “Watch for a long pass down in your corner, Butch,” he said.

Butch not only looked for it, but intercepted it, and carried it to the Rams’ eighteen-yard line! In two plays they scored
a touchdown; then they made the point after.

“Hey, you’ve guessed them right again, Mike!” exclaimed Bobby, a halfback. “That’s great, man!”

Mike didn’t tell him that it was really Harry who deserved all the credit.

The Jets won the game, 28 to 7.

The next week they played the Aces and beat them 14 to 0. Harry was making all the difference. But as he was walking home
from the Aces game, Mike wondered briefly if using Harry were really a fair thing to do. It helped the Jets win, and that’s
what counted, wasn’t it?

“We’re really not cheating, are we, Harry?” Mike asked. “After all, anything to win, right, pal?”

Harry only gave a short bark and walked away. “Don’t ask me. I’m just a dog. But anytime you don’t want to hear the plays,
it’s all right with me.” Mike decided it was too complicated to think about.

After their fourth win, Mike’s father invited the Jets to Bailor’s Chunky Hamburgers and bought them each a burger. While
they ate, a tall kid with curly red hair came up to Mike and stuck a finger against his chest.

“You think you’ve got a great team, don’t you?” he said, tough-like.

“Sure we do,” agreed Mike. The kid was Curly Lucas, captain of the Tigers.

“We’re playing you guys next week,” said Curly. “How about the losers buying the winners hamburgers?”

“Sounds great,” exclaimed Mike. “Wait a minute. I’ll talk to my father.”

His father was sitting on the end stool. Mike told him Curly’s offer, and said, “I think we can beat them, Dad.”

“OK,” said his father.

Mike wasn’t worried. With Harry giving him the plays, the Jets would give the Tigers a drubbing they wouldn’t forget.

But on Saturday morning, something happened that Mike had not counted on. Harry would not budge out of his house.

He was sick!