Just A Game by Dustin Stevens

Author:Dustin Stevens [Stevens, Dustin]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2012-07-24T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

“Black A 8! Black A 8! Set...Hut!” Clay barked in a deep guttural tone. A moment later junior center Hal Renton slapped the cold, hard ball into his hands and Clay began striding backward from the line.

The sounds of grunts and shoulder pads clapping filled his ears as he completed his five step drop and scanned his receivers.

On his right Marksy sprinted forward seven yards and broke hard for the sideline. To his left, sophomore slot Andy Wells ran a drag towards the middle of the field. Beside him, Goldie blocked for three seconds before releasing out into the flat.

If pressured, any of the first three reads were open for Clay to unload it. Instead, he paused for an extra second and waited for Matt to gain separation before launching the ball down the right sideline.

The ball shot away from Clay like a rocket, flying straight and true in a tight spiral. With each moment the ball was in the air Matt gained a little more distance from the cornerback covering him. He sprinted as hard as he could for several long seconds, extended his hands and cradled the pass. Without breaking stride he covered the last ten yards into the end zone and threw his hands high into the air.

A smattering of cheers went up from the handful of people watching practice on the sidelines. A few were retired townspeople like the Killer B’s that came every afternoon with their lawn chairs and watched. Most were there for the festivities of the day, leaning against the side of their car or sitting on the tailgates of trucks.

Coach Stanson clapped as the players returned to the huddle and slapped Clay on the helmet as he walked by. “That’s a way to look him off. Go through your reads before taking the deep ball.”

“Yeah, Coach,” Clay said.

Stanson held his whistle to his lips and blew it sharply three times before letting it fall back to his chest. “Alright boys, that’s enough for today.”

A handful of people climbed out of their cars and began walking over to the sideline and another small round of applause went up.

Stanson waited for the players to gather round and said, “Good practice today. That’s a way to focus and execute. Tomorrow we’ll come out and have a clean walk through, get ready to end this right on Friday.”

The players responded in unison with a deep, “Yeah!”

“Now tomorrow, we’ve got the senior dinner. Everybody plan on being back here at six o’clock in the cafeteria. We’ll eat as a team and when we’re done, the floor is the senior’s.

“For you young guys that haven’t been here before, the senior dinner is a chance for everybody to get up and say as much or as little as they want. Say some thank you’s, say a pregame speech, don’t say a damn word. It’s up to them. This group has been a class act from the first day, I trust tomorrow will be no different.”

He paused and scanned the group as a smile spread across his face.

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