Cody's Varsity Rush by Todd Hafer

Author:Todd Hafer [Hafer, Todd]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ebook, Book
Publisher: Zondervan
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Cody stood sandwiched between Paul Goddard and a lanky junior named Dilts on the south goal line of the practice field. Brett, next to Dilts, shifted his weight nervously from one foot to the other.

Coach Morgan and Coach Alvin faced them. The rest of the team stood along the east sideline looking on. “As you know,” the head coach began, “we have been decimated by injuries. Because of this, I have adjusted our defense from a forty-three set to a fifty-three. As often as we can, we’ll go with three DBs and put an extra guy up front. But three of the teams remaining on our schedule have fine quarterbacks and good receivers. We can’t give them a skeleton defensive backfield to pick apart. In those cases, we’ll need two corners and two safeties.”

Cody exchanged a quick glance with Brett. They both knew what was coming.

“Our challenge,” Coach Alvin added, after getting an approving nod from Coach Morgan, “is that we are seriously hurting at cornerback. Dalton Rhodes has plenty of corner experience, and we’ll be okay with him replacing Craig Ward. Goddard, you have done an adequate job of moving from safety to corner. But we are concerned about your speed. So we’re going to stage a little race. We know what your forty-yard-dash times are wearing shorts. But we need to see who is the fastest in full pads.”

With that, both coaches stepped aside. “It’s one hundred yards to the other goal line, gentlemen,” Coach Alvin said. “On my whistle, I want you all to run like crazy. Whoever wins doesn’t have to run gassers tonight. And he gets to play some games as starting varsity cornerback.”

Dilts poked his hand up. “So does that mean, like, we’re gonna race?”

Coach Alvin stared at Dilts. “No, genius, it means we’re gonna bake cookies!” He looked to his boss. “Coach Morgan, was I unclear about anything I said?”

The head coach’s face was expressionless. “No,” he said, “I don’t believe you were.”

“I didn’t think so. Now, if there are no more questions, may we begin?”

“Yes sir,” Dilts mumbled.

“Are you sure Mister Dilts? Are you clear on which direction you are running? On how far?”

Dilts nodded.

Coach Alvin blew a shrill, rippling blast on his whistle. Cody knew he was first off the line. He had watched the coach inhale and did his best to get a fast start. He knew he would need it.

Dilts pulled alongside him as they crossed the forty-yard line. He had a long stride, but from the desperate, rattling breaths he was taking, Cody knew he was tiring. Sure enough, as they hit midfield, Dilts’s form started to break down. He was cooked.

As they neared the other forty, Cody felt Goddard on his heels. Then, five yards later, Goddard was even with him. Goddard looked over and said “See you at the club, Code,” then accelerated by him.

Before the comment, Cody was ready to concede the race to the senior. He didn’t want to play varsity football as a freshman, and—although he disliked losing a race—it was no disgrace to be outrun by a senior.

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