Hometown Favorite: A Novel Read Free Page B

tight end.
    Dewayne whirled around to the team, shouting, "Judas!
Judas! Judas!"
    The defense made the instant adjustment.

    Dewayne looked at Jesse one last time to make sure he had
heard the call and saw his teammate stepping toward the outside and giving him a thumbs-up. It was a short count, and as
soon as the center snapped the ball, Dewayne rammed into the
tight end, forcing the Devils' running back toward the hole.
    After the quarterback had made the quick pitch to the running back, he began to sprint in the opposite direction. When
the running back caught the ball, he hesitated, and from the
corner of his eye as Jesse dashed toward the open hole made
by the Devils' tight end, he saw the quarterback moving away
from the action to the open field. The unexpected move surprised him.
    Confident it was a pass option off the pitch, Jesse made a
snap decision to follow the quarterback, expecting the Devils'
running back to pass it to the quarterback for a clear shot to
the end zone. When Jesse changed his route and followed the
quarterback, the Devils' running back saw the clearing ahead
of him and sprinted through the scrambling bodies into an
open field.
    Dewayne managed to touch the running back's heel with the
tips of his fingers as he fell to the ground from the tight end's
forceful resistance, but his touch had no effect. He watched
from his helpless position on the ground, the weight of the
tight end draped over his stomach, as the Devils' running back
raced toward the end zone, outrunning a helpless Jesse not fast
enough to chase him down.
    Within seconds, the pent-up anxiety on the Devils' side of
the stadium over a sure defeat erupted into pandemonium. On
the Tigers' side, the vision of a silver-and-gold-plated trophy
encased in the main hall of the high school was shattered glass.
Screams meant to confuse the Devils became cries of horror
and lamentation. The town of Springdale had performed all the proper rituals and offered all the right prayers to prevent
this outcome. Where had the system broken down? A cruel
joke had been played upon them. Now all that remained was
the mourning.

    Time enough remained on the clock for a Devils' kickoff
and a Tigers' return. Springdale fans were delirious with momentary hope as the kickoff return placed them at the thirtyyard line, but the Devils' defense solidified. Two desperation
passes from Sly to Dewayne, each one blocked by the Devils'
triple-team coverage of Dewayne. Then a final forty-sevenyard field goal attempt. The ball nicked a Devil's helmet and
never had the chance to fly toward the uprights. It bounced
to the ground and lay dead until snatched by a jubilant Devil,
who tossed it into the air. The coveted game ball seemed to
float for a few seconds above the field, buoyed on the Devils'
euphoric shouting. The fact that this object would forever be
in possession of the Devils was too bitter a consequence for
every Springdale citizen.

    The trip back to Springdale was like that of a routed army returning home after a long and exhausting war. All movement
was painful, not from the punishment of combat, but from
the ache of defeat. Discreet tears flowed only when the bus
had pulled away from the stadium, and in its dark and silent
interior boys hid their faces and allowed disappointment to
flow from their eyes. This time could never be repeated, only
replayed again and again in their memories, a continual loop
of heartbreaking highlights.
    There were great moments to revel in, but the Tigers could
enjoy only the minutes leading up to the final two. Up to that
point their lead had never been overtaken, their potential victory not in serious jeopardy. But to a player, breaching the
memory threshold of those last two minutes was perilous, a
thorny punishment with a difficult recovery. The head coach
stood in front of the bus hoping to pour the balm of comfort
on his broken team with some reassuring words, but he needed