They returned to the huddle. “Sorry,” Gary said again.
Joe called the next play—a long pass to Brian. “You hike, Goon.”
Gary hiked the ball, but way too short. It hit the ground a foot in front of Joe, and the play was dead.
“Can’t you even hike the ball?” Joe asked him. “Okay, same thing,” he called, without even bothering to go back to the huddle. “Except someone else hike.”
“Where do you want me to play?” Gary asked.
“I don’t care!” snapped Joe. “You can’t catch! You can’t even hike the stupid ball! Just get out of my sight, Goon. I don’t want to see your face.”
Gary walked with his head down almost to the sidelines—almost. When the ball was hiked, he turned and ran upfield.
No one was covering him. No one was near him. This was his play, exactly as Joe had planned it.
He looked over his shoulder as Joe released the ball. It came spiraling through the air.
He knew he’d drop it. He had known it all along. When Joe asked him first thing in the morning if he could catch—he knew then he’d drop it.
But in the back of his mind, he heard Angeline say, “You have to be the ball,” and for a nanosecond he understood. The ball came down. His hands went out to meet it, and he gently cradled it against his chest.
Everyone was charging toward him now, but he never broke stride as he continued running across the goal line for a touchdown.
He held the ball in front of his face and stared at it as if he didn’t know how it got there. Then he spiked it.
“My man!” shouted Joe as he slapped Gary’s hand high in the air.
One by one the players on both teams realized what had happened. It had all been an act—the dropped ball, the bad hike. The Goon had tricked them.
“Why didn’t you at least tell your own team?” asked Zack.
“I didn’t want anyone to give it away,” Joe said.
“Man, that was great!” said Brian. He looked at Gary. “You should be an actor!”
Gary was still out of breath. “It was a great pass,” he said. “I’m just glad I didn’t drop it.”
“Perfect,” said Zack. “It wouldn’t have worked with anyone else, but everyone already thinks you’re a goon. No offense. That’s just what everybody thinks. You know that. That’s why it worked so well,”
“I know,” said Gary.
Zack held up his hand and Gary slapped it.
“There’s a lot we don’t know about old Goon,” Joe said. He grabbed the back of Gary’s neck and playfully shook it, like a puppy. “I think he’s just been sandbagging us all along.”
14.
Gary rubbed his hands over his face as he stood in front of his open locker, which was crammed with books. He tried to remember what he needed to bring home.
He was still pretty excited about his touchdown, but he had more important things to think about—jokes. He hadn’t made up any jokes yesterday, so he had to make up twice as many today.
He pulled out his math book, then slammed his locker shut before the rest of the books could fall. He still had to finish reading the pirate book too.
Ira Feldman laughed.
Gary turned.
“Michael told me what you said,” said Ira.