First and Ten by Jeff Rud Page A

a better arm. But James, a ninth-grader, was the starter. Coach Reynolds had made that perfectly clear to everybody from the beginning.
    In the first huddle, Jackson turned to Matt. “We’re going deep fly, twenty-five yards. Can you beat your man?” Matt nodded, but at the same time he honestly had no idea if he could beat his man. This was his first time on the field for an offensive series. The huddle broke and the teams went to the line. Jackson started the snap count, but his cadence was slightly different than James’s, and center Steve Donnelly pulled up early. The referee threw a flag. It was an illegal procedure call.
    Jackson glanced toward the sidelines. His father had thrown his maroon hat to the ground in disgust. People in the stands were staring at the large man warily.
    â€œLet’s try the same thing again,” Ricky said, turning to the huddle. “This time, on two. Everybody know the count?”
    Heads nodded all around. This time, Donnelly did not pull up early. Jackson took the snap and dropped back. Meanwhile, Matt had fired off the line, getting a full step on his man. He reached the twenty-five-yard mark in about three seconds. The ball was headed his way, and it was a perfect throw. He reached up with his right hand. But as he shot up his left to gather in the pass, the football bounced away. He had dropped what should have been an easy catch. Matt glanced back at Jackson. The young quarterback wasn’t even looking down the field, though. His eyes were glued to the sidelines where his father once again appeared furious.
    Matt felt horrible, but not just for himself. He knew he would catch passes and drop passes during his football career—that simply went with the position of receiver. He felt badly for Jackson, who was clearly feeling the pressure from his father. The Stingers punted the ball, one of the few times all game that they hadn’t scored. Matt and his offensive teammates returned to the sidelines.
    By the time South Side got the ball back, it was mid-fourth quarter as North Vale had rallied against the Stingers’ backup defense and scored a touchdown to make it 35–14. Jackson put his helmet on to return to the field, but Coach Reynolds stopped him. “Vickers is going in for this series,” he said.
    Jackson was clearly disappointed. Keith Vickers was the third-strong quarterback and backup receiver. Jackson had gotten only one series and already Coach was pulling him for the third-stringer. As Matt headed out to the field, he couldn’t help but feel responsible. After all, he had dropped a nice pass.
    There was a sudden commotion on the sidelines. When Vickers came out to take the snap, Jackson’s dad had turned his back and stomped away, slamming the chain-link gate as he left the area. A few people in the stands were snickering at him. Matt noticed his father standing nearby, calmly sipping on a coffee. He felt sorry for Ricky.
    A few minutes later, the game was over. South Side had won 42–14, an easy victory. Matt had managed to catch one pass, a ten-yard out pattern that was part of a nice touchdown drive engineered by Keith Vickers. He had also dropped another ball when he heard a North Vale linebacker thundering up behind him. Matt knew that if he wanted to be a receiver he had to focus on the football and not worry about getting hit. But that was much easier said than done.
    All in all, though, it had been a great start to the football season, both for South Side and for Matt. The locker room was upbeat, tunes cranked and players celebrating the big win. Coach Reynolds motioned to Kyle James to turn off the stereo.
    â€œNice game, guys,” the coach said, a bigger smile on his face than Matt had seen before. “I’m really pleased with most of what I saw today, and the things I wasn’t pleased with we can work to correct. Most of all, I’m happy with the effort. It was a good win. Let’s come