Undercover Tailback (4 page)

In the locker room, Coach Isaac gave his team a pep talk. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you guys,” he said. “You’re making
a few mistakes, but there’s something else. …”

Parker was pretty sure he knew what that something was. But he’d already tried telling the guys, and they had laughed at him.
Why should the coach listen?

“You’re not connecting. You’re always a few seconds behind,” the coach continued.

Or the Leopards are a few seconds ahead, thought Parker.

“This half, don’t give them an extra inch anywhere,” said the coach. “We have to get on the scoreboard fast — build some momentum
— really get the steam up. All right, let’s see you guys play some football!”

They burst forth from the locker room, an explosion of orange, white, and green. Waiting for play to resume, every Kudzu kept
in motion. Shoulder pad connected with shoulder pad. Rubber cleats ground into the dirt as blocks were faked and passes were
thrown and caught.

The Kudzus were on the receiving side of the field as the second half started.

The Leopards kicked a low wobbler that went offside just over the midfield mark.

The Kudzus fans cheered the weak kick. There were some boos from the Leopards crowd.

“With great field position, they’ll expect a long pass,” said Spike. “We’ll surprise them. We’ll go with Thirty-two Grind.”

Again? thought Parker. It hasn’t worked yet.
Maybe that’s part of the problem. Spike isn’t calling a very good game today. Oh, well, I’ll do my best.

He never even got a chance.

Before Spike could hand him the ball, the Leopards’ nose tackle climbed over Huey and sacked the Kudzus’ quarterback. It happened
so fast, the ball almost got loose.

“I’m telling you guys …,” Parker started to say in the huddle.

But no one was listening to him.

Then Huey reminded them of the new play Coach Isaac had suggested the day before — the backward signal calling for a repeat
of the last play.

“They’ll never expect it again,” he said. “Why don’t we give it a try?”

Spike didn’t seem to like the idea. But they had to try something a little different.

They lined up for the next play. Spike barked out, “Two! Three! Hut! Hut!”

Huey was right about one thing. The Leopards were slow to react. There was plenty of
time to hand off to Parker, time for the offensive line to open a hole, and even a wide-open field once he got clear. He sped
down the field and crossed the goal line standing up.

The defense swarmed off the bench and joined their fellow Kudzus surrounding Parker. They hugged so hard, he almost lost his
breath.

Meanwhile, the Leopards stood around looking amazed.

That’s one you hadn’t counted on, thought Parker. You won’t find that little switcheroo in the playbook.

When he got to the bench, he tried to talk to Coach Isaac.

“Wait a minute, Parker,” the coach said. “Let’s see if we make this conversion. Ah, yes!”

More cheers, more high fives, more players coming and going as the Leopards prepared to receive the ball.

Parker never got a chance to tell the coach what he suspected was going on. All the Kudzus were up off the bench for the kick.
There was
still time for them to win the game with one more touchdown and conversion.

The Kudzus’ kick was a good one. The ball almost reached the goal line before a Leopard snagged it on one short bounce and
started downfield. Billy Wilson just managed to bring him down in Leopard territory near the forty-five yard line.

Parker’s touchdown had fired up the Kudzus. The defense ground in. It seemed as if every one of their linemen were made of
cement blocks. Two attempts at running plays didn’t get beyond the line of scrimmage.

The Leopards’ quarterback had to take to the air.

“Get that pass!”

“Make that pass!”

The yells from the crowd almost drowned out the sound of the plays being called on the field.

The Leopards weren’t about to give up their lead that easily. Their own line dug in. Two short passes put them on the Kudzus’
thirty.

“First and ten!” called the referee.

The two teams lined up. It looked as though the Leopards were going to run the ball. There was a handoff to the fullback,
who didn’t move. Protected by his blockers, he threw a short pass to an open teammate on the far side. There was nothing between
the receiver and the goal line but daylight. Touchdown.

With the conversion made, the score now stood at Leopards 20, Kudzus 7.

“Two touchdowns, two touchdowns, and the extra points! We still can do it!” called Rook Stubbs from the far side of the bench.
He stood next to the big watercooler, cheering on the players on the field.

“Hey, Spike, how about me?” asked Stacy Fishburne in the huddle. The Leopards’ kick had wobbled offside on the Kudzus’ thirty.
“I haven’t seen much of the ball today.”

“Yeah, what about Forty-nine Red?” asked Huey. “We practiced that all week.”

“Sure,” said Spike. “Why not?”

They took their positions. Huey centered the ball. The offensive line held.

Spike looked downfield at Stacy. The Kudzu receiver was just where he was supposed to be.

The pass was a clean spiral straight at the mark. Stacy caught it fair and square. But as he turned to run, two Leopard linebackers
hit him crossways and the ball squirted out of his hands.

It bounced around as both teams scrambled to retrieve it.

When the bodies were peeled away from the pileup, a defensive safety for the Leopards was on top of the ball.

The Kudzus offense stomped off the field. The weary defense took over.

“Still time, still time!” called Rook.

But time seemed to be on the side of the Leopards. They didn’t eat up much of the clock on their next drive to the goal line.

A short pass from Watson put them in scoring range.

Three running plays in a row followed. Each was good for only a few yards — but a few yards was all they needed. With first
and goal to go, Watson himself carried the ball over the mountain
of Kudzu linemen. He almost did a somersault as he rose to his feet. The ball was in one hand. The other was clenched in victory.

The Leopards kicked for the conversion, and the score leapt from 20-7 to 27-7. But their offense was looking tired as they
jogged off the field.

“They’ve been on their feet too long,” snorted Moose, in the huddle.

“No excuse for us, then,” snapped Cris Muldoon. “Let’s give their defense something different for a change. Hey, Spike, how
about good old Lucky Eighty-seven?”

Lucky Eighty-seven was really just a dressed-up version of the razzle-dazzle that kids played on streets and backyards all
over town. It called for a quick round of handoffs and short passes among the three backs before Fabian made a run for it
through any hole that was then open. Coach Isaac had just started running it during their final practice the day before the
game. It was one of the few plays they had never used in a game before.

“I don’t know,” said Spike. “We haven’t practiced it much.”

“Big deal,” said Fabian. “That’s the beauty. Doesn’t take much practice. Been doin’ it as long as I can remember.”

“We have to do something, guys,” said Parker. “They’re murdering us.”

“Okay,” said Spike. “But you guys have to keep them out of here.” He indicated the back-field to the linemen. “We’ll go with
Lucky Eighty-seven.”

Huey Walker took a deep breath as he hunched over the ball. Spike crouched behind him and barked out the signals.

“Ready! Set! Hut! Hut!”

He backed away and handed off to Fabian.

The line held at the center. But from either end, red-white-and-blue uniforms came at him.

Before he could toss the ball to Parker, he was tackled.

“Lucky? Hah!” grumbled Spike.

“Maybe we’ll get lucky sometime,” sighed Huey.

“We’ll go with Slide Twenty-nine,” Spike announced.

A draw play. They hadn’t made one of those all day. Maybe it would work this time.

It did. But not exactly as planned.

The Leopards were in so fast, Spike dropped the ball. Tripp Collins had made his block when he saw the ball skitter between
his legs. He picked it up and realized he was in the clear. Before anyone knew what was happening, he was halfway down the
field toward the goalpost. For the first time in his playing career, Tripp had scored a touchdown.

At least he thought he had.

There was a flag down on the field.

A penalty was called: offside — against the Kudzus.

Darren Shultz had moved forward too fast. A glimpse of green and orange just caught the ref’s eye.

Tripp almost wept.

“I may never get to cross the goal line with the ball again,” he moaned in the huddle.

“Okay, guys, let’s try it again,” said Spike. “Only let’s do it right. Same play.”

It was the second time they had tried a replay and, again, it worked. They gained enough yardage for a first down.

Using his runners, Spike managed to gain precious yards, one after another.

Meanwhile, the clock was grinding away.

They were down to the fifteen yard line. Could they go all the way?

Spike called for a short pass to Moose Brogan. If they could get close enough to the goal line, there was a good chance they
could score. And a missed pass would stop the clock.

The Kudzus’ quarterback had plenty of time to pass, but there were Leopards all over his intended receiver. Suddenly Spike
noticed Cris Muldoon in the end zone with no one near him.

He threw the ball in a high arc, and down it came — right into Cris’s waiting arms.

The Kudzus wasted no time in celebrating. They lined up and quickly made the conversion.

The scoreboard read Leopards 27, Kudzus 14.

Just one break. That’s all they needed. Just one big break.

With so little time left, thought Parker as he jogged toward the bench, our only hope is to get the ball back fast. And maybe
come up with some surprises. Unless the Leopards already know every trick in our book!

He had barely reached the sidelines when an onside kick gave the Kudzus their chance. The ball touched one of the Leopards
and then bounced into the clear. With a smell of victory in the air, three different Kudzus nearly collided as they pounced
on it.

The ball was on the Leopards’ forty-five.

First and ten.

Coach Isaac sent Mitch Crum in to replace Fabian deRosa, who was limping. It didn’t look serious, but Rook Stubbs took no
chances. He helped the Kudzus’ fullback into the locker room for a good look at the injury.

“Coach says short passes toward the sidelines,” Mitch informed his teammates in the huddle. “Keep stopping the clock.”

They had no choice but to follow his strategy.

It might have worked, too, if it weren’t for the Leopards’ defense. They managed to sack Spike twice in a row.

But he was tough. He got up, called a third-down pass, and managed to connect to Moose. The tight end grabbed the ball and
carried it down to the nine yard line. He ran off the sideline just in time to stop the clock with less than a minute to go.

“Come on, guys,” shouted Parker. “The Gators can run two sets of plays in less than a minute.”

“You and those Gators!” snarled Spike. “Bunch of overgrown lizards!”

“Yeah. Besides, we’re not the Gators,” said Huey.

Spike called for a screen pass to Mitch, but the ball never left his hand. He was brought down by two Leopards for a loss
of five.

And the merciless clock kept ticking.

Without a huddle, the Kudzus lined up for another attempt. This time Spike faked to Parker and handed off to Mitch. The utility
back crashed through the line for a few precious yards.

Not enough for a first down.

With only seconds left, the Kudzus got off one last play. Spike tried carrying the ball himself.

He had no more luck than any of his runners.

Final score: Leopards 27, Kudzus 14.

“It’s just like they knew our plays better than we did ourselves,” said Moose on the way into the locker room. Even so, he
wasn’t buying Parker’s story any more than the rest of the team.

But Parker was more convinced than ever the stranger in the gray hooded sweatshirt had taken pictures of the coach’s playbook.
Somehow, those pictures had gotten into the Leopards’ hands. He was sure of it.

But who was the mysterious person, and why had he done it? And would “Mr. Sweatshirt” be likely to strike again?

P
arker decided the only way to find the answers to his questions was to stake out the coach’s office. That way, he might see
if Mr. Sweatshirt reappeared.

But keeping an eye on Coach Isaac’s office was more difficult than Parker had imagined. After all, he was supposed to be in
class, so he couldn’t just skip off whenever he wanted. In between classes, however, he made sure to pass by that doorway
as often as he could.

He found ways of leaving classes early, too. He had so many faked coughing fits, the school nurse dragged him into her office
and took his temperature.