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Authors: Matt Christopher
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right halfback Gordie Poole. The other seven were linemen. Chip saw Mr. Quigley
working with a group near the side of the field. He saw the quarterback fumble a passfrom center, then stumble all over himself trying to pick it up.
Chip looked away, shaking his head. What a sad-looking bunch
they
were!
“Line up, men,” Phil ordered. He named off the linemen, then glanced over the men in the backfield. Mr. Kash had taught the
backfield men the basic formation, so the boys got into their positions without difficulty.
Phil looked up from his notebook. “Can you remember what Play Forty-two is?” he asked.
“Yes,” answered Chip. “I hand off the ball to Spence and he takes off between left guard and center.”
Phil nodded. “Right. Okay, let’s try it.”
They tried it — again and again. Since Mr. Kash had taught them the play, they must have run it a million times. It was the
same with the other plays in which Spencecarried the ball. He played fullback because he was the biggest and hardest to bring down. But that didn’t mean that the play
was successful each time. It wasn’t.
They tried the pass plays, which were a sad thing, too. Chip was the only member of the team who could throw a football well.
Therefore only he did the passing.
He threw a long one down the left side of the field to the left end and then down the right side of the field to the right
end, and both times the receivers missed the ball. Phil had them try the play until both ends caught the passes thrown to
them. By that time Chip’s arm was beginning to ache. Boy, what a couple of crummy ends, he thought.
Phil exchanged players on the line with the group being coached by Mr. Quigley, then had the two squads scrimmage against
each other. Since there were only twenty-one players on the Cayugans team, Mr. Quigleyhad to be satisfied with ten men. Both squads were given opportunities to carry the ball. Chip noticed that the squad he was
on wasn’t much good, but the other squad was even worse.
He was glad when Phil finally shouted, “Okay, boys! That’s it for tonight! See you tomorrow!”
“Maybe,” Chip heard Splash say. “Oh, I guess I’ll be here,” Splash added as he met Chip’s eyes.
Chip didn’t say it, but that was how he felt about it, too.
3
W hen five-thirty rolled around on Wednesday and Chip didn’t put on his uniform, his mom looked at him questioningly. “Isn’t
there football practice tonight, Chip?” she asked.
“Yes, but —” Chip hated to tell her.
“But, what?”
“Well, Mr. Kash is gone, and Phil Wayne and Mr. Quigley are coaching us. Those guys don’t know anything about football. I
don’t want to be on a team that’s going to be skinned every game.”
“Oh? Don’t you think you should give Mr.Wayne and Mr. Quigley a chance to see what they can do?”
“I’ve seen what Phil can do. And I don’t think Mr. Quigley can do any better.”
He knew that was a poor attitude to take. He expected his mom to tell him so. But she only looked at him silently. She didn’t
have to tell him.
He stuck to his decision. He wasn’t going to practice — today, tomorrow, nor any other time. He would tell Phil Wayne he had
quit the team as soon as he saw him. By that time, he’d think of a good reason to give Phil. He would have to return the uniform
to Phil, too.
Mr. Chase came home a few minutes before six. He, too, wondered why Chip hadn’t gone to football practice. Chip told him the
same thing he had told his mom. Chip expected his dad to say that it was a poor attitude to take. But he didn’t. He probablyfigured that Chip was old enough now to know that it was a poor attitude without telling him.
After dinner Chip went to his room and started on his homework. There was a page of math he had to do, and a short composition
to write. He did the first two math problems all right, then encountered trouble. It wasn’t the math problem. It was a thought
that kept
working with a group near the side of the field. He saw the quarterback fumble a passfrom center, then stumble all over himself trying to pick it up.
Chip looked away, shaking his head. What a sad-looking bunch
they
were!
“Line up, men,” Phil ordered. He named off the linemen, then glanced over the men in the backfield. Mr. Kash had taught the
backfield men the basic formation, so the boys got into their positions without difficulty.
Phil looked up from his notebook. “Can you remember what Play Forty-two is?” he asked.
“Yes,” answered Chip. “I hand off the ball to Spence and he takes off between left guard and center.”
Phil nodded. “Right. Okay, let’s try it.”
They tried it — again and again. Since Mr. Kash had taught them the play, they must have run it a million times. It was the
same with the other plays in which Spencecarried the ball. He played fullback because he was the biggest and hardest to bring down. But that didn’t mean that the play
was successful each time. It wasn’t.
They tried the pass plays, which were a sad thing, too. Chip was the only member of the team who could throw a football well.
Therefore only he did the passing.
He threw a long one down the left side of the field to the left end and then down the right side of the field to the right
end, and both times the receivers missed the ball. Phil had them try the play until both ends caught the passes thrown to
them. By that time Chip’s arm was beginning to ache. Boy, what a couple of crummy ends, he thought.
Phil exchanged players on the line with the group being coached by Mr. Quigley, then had the two squads scrimmage against
each other. Since there were only twenty-one players on the Cayugans team, Mr. Quigleyhad to be satisfied with ten men. Both squads were given opportunities to carry the ball. Chip noticed that the squad he was
on wasn’t much good, but the other squad was even worse.
He was glad when Phil finally shouted, “Okay, boys! That’s it for tonight! See you tomorrow!”
“Maybe,” Chip heard Splash say. “Oh, I guess I’ll be here,” Splash added as he met Chip’s eyes.
Chip didn’t say it, but that was how he felt about it, too.
3
W hen five-thirty rolled around on Wednesday and Chip didn’t put on his uniform, his mom looked at him questioningly. “Isn’t
there football practice tonight, Chip?” she asked.
“Yes, but —” Chip hated to tell her.
“But, what?”
“Well, Mr. Kash is gone, and Phil Wayne and Mr. Quigley are coaching us. Those guys don’t know anything about football. I
don’t want to be on a team that’s going to be skinned every game.”
“Oh? Don’t you think you should give Mr.Wayne and Mr. Quigley a chance to see what they can do?”
“I’ve seen what Phil can do. And I don’t think Mr. Quigley can do any better.”
He knew that was a poor attitude to take. He expected his mom to tell him so. But she only looked at him silently. She didn’t
have to tell him.
He stuck to his decision. He wasn’t going to practice — today, tomorrow, nor any other time. He would tell Phil Wayne he had
quit the team as soon as he saw him. By that time, he’d think of a good reason to give Phil. He would have to return the uniform
to Phil, too.
Mr. Chase came home a few minutes before six. He, too, wondered why Chip hadn’t gone to football practice. Chip told him the
same thing he had told his mom. Chip expected his dad to say that it was a poor attitude to take. But he didn’t. He probablyfigured that Chip was old enough now to know that it was a poor attitude without telling him.
After dinner Chip went to his room and started on his homework. There was a page of math he had to do, and a short composition
to write. He did the first two math problems all right, then encountered trouble. It wasn’t the math problem. It was a thought
that kept
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