Goal-Line Stand

Goal-Line Stand by Todd Hafer Page B

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Authors: Todd Hafer
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concentration.”
    “I’m sorry, B. I don’t mean any disrespect to Pastor Taylor. I just can’t get the thing with Brett off my mind.”
    “He’s still holding a grudge, huh?”
    “Like it was a bag of money.”
    “I’m sorry, Cody, I really am. It’s hard when teammates can’t get along.”
    Cody leaned back in the booth and smiled sadly. “Yeah, dude, I’ll be glad when the season is over.”
    Blake nibbled on the end of his straw. “Don’t be too glad. This Saturday is the final game of your middle-school career. Next year, you’ll be playing with the big boys.”
    “Maybe.”
    Blake’s eyes widened. “Maybe? What do you mean, maybe?”
    Cody stirred his Coke with his straw, clinking the ice cubes against the side of his glass. He liked the sound. “If next year is anything like this year, maybe I’d be better off going out for cross-country. Drew says I should think about it.”
    “Nothing against cross-country, Code, but you’re a football guy. How long have you been playing?”
    “Since third grade.”
    “And you’re ready to walk away from it now? Let me tell you from experience, high school football rocks! Those Friday-night games, under the lights, bleachers packed with parents and students—and big and little brothers and sisters. The energy, the competition, it’s something you’ll never forget. Every game I go to, I find myself wishing I could suit up and get out there one more time.”
    “Yeah, it is pretty cool. I’ve always gone to those games and dreamed what it would be like. It’s like the big time, you know? But I don’t know if I’m willing to go through this much garbage for even one more year. Besides, who knows if I’m even good enough to play high school ball?”
    “I do.”
    “And you’re an expert? I haven’t seen you analyzing NFL games on ESPN.”
    “I’m not saying I’m an expert. But I know football. And I know a football player when I see one.”
    Cody shook his head sadly. “I don’t know if I’m a football player anymore. I don’t know what I am.”
    Cody was silent on the drive home. He tried to picture himself in a blue and silver Grant High School uniform. Even only a year away from ninth grade, high school seemed like another world. And high schoolfootball? That was another planet. Cody thought of 220-pound Doug Porter charging through the line on a fullback off-tackle. Could he ever hope to bring down someone as big and powerful as Pork Chop’s brother?
    He wondered if God would punish him for not paying attention in church. I didn’t just disrespect Pastor Taylor, he thought, I disrespected God. It would have been better if I’d just stayed home.
    He looked out the window and realized where he was. “Stop the car!” he blurted.
    Blake looked around frantically as he braked. “What? Do you see Drew again?”
    “No. It’s not that. I just need to get out here. You can go ahead and head home.”
    “Why?”
    Cody grabbed the door handle. “There’s something I gotta do. I just realized it.”
    “What do you have to do?” Cody gave a cryptic smile. “Matthew 5:23 and 24.”
    Blake shrugged. “I’m drawing a blank on that.”
    “Come on, dude,” Cody called over his shoulder as he began jogging down Vindicator Avenue. “You’re the one who taught it to me.”
    Cody stood on the Evanses’ doorstep. He could hear the muffled sound of an NFL game. The Jets versussomebody. Miami maybe. Cody whispered to himself, “‘Therefore, if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there in front of the altar. First go and be reconciled to your brother; then come and offer your gift.’” Cody paused. “Well, I didn’t remember before I went to the ‘altar,’ but I think this is better than nothing.”
    Drawing in a deep breath, he jabbed the doorbell with his right index finger.
    So this is what Brett and Bart are gonna look like when they’re adults, Cody

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