The Great Quarterback Switch Read Free Page B

enthusiastically. “I admire you. Both of you. Shows the love you have for each other. Okay,
     when and where would you like to try out TEC for the physical exchange?”
    “At the football games,” said Tom.
    Ollie nodded. “Good.” His eyes narrowed again. “Just remember, it’s concentration and wishing— extraordinary concentration,
     extraordinary wishing— that will get your thought-energies working. And you’ll do it. I’m sure you will.”
    “Thanks, Mr. Pruitt,” said Tom. He got up from his chair. “We’re sure glad you’re our neighbor, Mr. Pruitt,” he added.
    Ollie took off his hat and set it on the floor. His bald head was pink, and wrinkled in back. “You boys give me a lot of pleasure,
     too,” he admitted. “It was a good many years, you know, that I lived like a hermit in this house, just because people figured
     I wasa little touched upstairs.” He ran a finger in small circles around his right ear. “Then you boys came along. These past five
     years have been the happiest since before my wife passed away. Yes, sir— books are all right, but they just can’t take the
     place of people.”
    “Thanks, Mr. Pruitt,” said Michael. “Well, we’ll be seeing you.”
    “Right. And I’ll see you,” said Ollie, “at the games.”

4
    O n Monday, after school, Michael sat on the sidelines, watching the Eagles work out on the east end of the football field.
     The Moths were working out on the west end at the same time.
    He was among a couple of dozen kids. Some he knew, some he didn’t. Some of them were girls. Two of them, Sally Barton and
     Martha Withers, were doing a lot of talking and giggling. They just came to hang around the guys, anyway. Neither one had
     a boyfriend, and the way they talked and giggledit wasn’t hard to understand why they didn’t.
    Some of the other girls, Michael thought, weren’t bad. Vickie Marsh, for example. She was pretty skinny, but she had beautiful
     skin and long blond hair. She had brains, too. Tom talked about her once in a while, sometimes sounding as if he liked her
     just a little. But Tom wasn’t stuck on her. He had said so.
    The backfield men drilled on running patterns, the linemen on blocking. Then the two quarterbacks, Tom and Kirk, took turns
     throwing passes to the ends. Michael watched Tom’s every move with avid concentration. He began to think more and more of
     himself in Tom’s place; he was concentrating so hard that he could almost feel the smoothness of the leather in his hands
     as the center snapped the football. He tried tothink of himself in Tom’s place as Tom faked a handoff, faded back, came to a standstill, and drilled a pass to an end.
    There was more to passing than just throwing the ball, whether the pass was short or long. The important thing was to throw
     it ahead of the receiver; and you had to time it right or you were in trouble. Michael knew that. He had studied all the aspects
     of quarterbacking a team by watching television, by reading books, and by watching Tom.
    After the initial drills were over, Coach Cotter had the team split up into squads. Because there were only eighteen players,
     the coach had the eleven regulars work on running plays against a seven-man defensive line. On pass plays he boosted the defense
     to eleven men to make it tougher for the passers and receivers. Nevertheless, Tom was able to complete four passes out of
     five.Kirk completed two out of five. But this was only his first year as a quarterback. Michael figured that in another year he’d
     be as good as— or maybe better than— Tom.
    When the drills were over, some of the players dropped on the grass and lay on it as if they couldn’t move another step. Lumpy
     Harris, a lineman, was one of them. There was almost enough of him to make two linemen.
    Stogey Snyder was another. He wasn’t quite as fat as Lumpy, but if he were to race with a turtle, chances were that he’d come
     in second.
    Some of the guys stopped and