From this year's NaNo novel, I present: High School Revolution
The Counter-Revolutionary Football Scene. Posting it serves a double purpose. One, obviously to share part of my novel with you. Two, to find out if you understand the scene. I get football because I watch it with my dad and brothers, and my awesome bro DJ talked out this scene with me to make it awesome. The question is, does the average reader who may not understand foobtball get it?
So without further adieu:
With
Robbie as quarterback, the student section of the stands was full of
supporters—all of them trying to cheer and forcing themselves to shout
encouragement. With only a few minutes left in the fourth quarter, the score
was Frances Academy six, Washington High School 84. We only had a touch down
because a Washington player fumbled on the four yard line and a sophomore, Leon
Elba, scooped it up and ran in for the touchdown. We missed the extra point
because Robbie tried to kick it. He missed the ball completely and landed on
his back. It looked painful. I had to shove my fist into my mouth to keep from
laughing. Down on the field, Danton put his helmet over his face, his shoulders
shaking until Robbie limped over to the sideline.
We
had the ball back, one of the few times we got possession during the game. I
expected it’d last about thirty seconds before Robbie threw an interception, or
fumbled, or ran right into the opposing team’s center. It was a wonder the kid
could still stand after taking twenty-three plus sacks (I quit counting early
in the third quarter).
Robbie
stood several feet back from Jack {Last name}, our center, in a shotgun
formation, preparing to pass the ball. I groaned ahead of time. Robbie hadn’t
completed a pass the whole game. After he threw ten straight interceptions in
the first quarter, someone forced him to start calling running plays, which
hadn’t worked either. Two running-backs, Elba and a senior I didn’t know,
flanked Robbie’s sides. He yelled out what sounded like random numbers to me.
Elba turned toward Robbie, taking a step. I thought perhaps he was arguing with
whatever play Robbie called until he flashed in front of Robbie and grabbed the
snapped football. The kid had quick feet! Elba ran around the lineman. The ones
who saw who carried the ball started blocking with more fervor than they had
the whole game. Elba spun around some bewildered Washington linemen. We’d
gained twelve yards by the time Washington’s fifth-string players hauled him
down.
The
Frances Academy crowd roared in approval for the only first down conversion of
the game, most of them probably forgetting they shouldn’t support something
that clearly went against what Robby had planned. In fact, our fearless leader looked
like the only one in the stadium who didn’t agree with the play change. He shouted
at Elba, jerking his thumb back toward the bench. Elba stalked toward Robbie
and grabbed his helmet, yelling something in Robbie’s face. Robbie wound his
hand through the material at Elba’s neck, screaming back, but Elba jerked away.
He shoved against Robbie’s pads, knocking the much smaller player to the
ground.
Robbie
scrambled up, looking to the sidelines, probably in hopes that Coach Hibbert
would punish the defiant Elba. Coach just stared back calmly, arms folded
across his chest. The only thing to break the silence was the shrill keen of a
ref’s whistle. Frances Academy got called for a delay of game and lost five
yards. But Elba stayed on the field, and Frances Academy’s original first
string rushed back onto the field despite Robbie’s screaming for them to get
off.
On
the second play Jack snapped the ball deftly to the side, past Robbie into
Elba’s hands. Elba squirted through the defense somehow and ended up thirty
yards downfield, in the end zone.
I
screamed louder than anyone in the stands. We all knew there was no chance we’d
come back from a seventy point deficit in only a minute and a half—but if
everyone on the field was defying Robbie Pierce, it meant his three week tirade was
over.
For
some reason, the players let Robbie try and kick again. I saw why when Elba
held his hands out for the snap from Jack. As Robbie ran forward to kick, Elba
snatched the ball and tossed it into the center of the end zone, right into a
waiting Frances Academy player’s hands for an extra two points.
My
cheering screams turned into gurgling laughs. I didn’t know where the football
players finally got the nerve, but their coup made everything I’d been through
since my defection worth it. When I turned to survey the joyful students around
me, my eyes caught Polly’s a few rows down. She glared daggers at me and ran a
cast encrusted hand across her neck, signaling I was headed another swirlie. I
looked back up at the field, eyeing the triumphant figure of Danton, pumping
his fist into the air, and doubted she or Robbie or anyone who still supported
them would get a hand on me. Excitement shattered through my chest. I grinned
at the thought of not fearing school every day.
After
the two-point conversion, a couple linemen brought Robbie over to Danton and
threw him on the ground. Danton grinned and sat down on him. The kicking team
went in, led by our usual kicker, one of Louie’s old crowd. He sqibbed the kick
a few feet up the field toward the waiting Washington players. One of the
inexperienced players near the front jumped on it, but the ball shot out from
underneath him. A pile of Frances Academy players pounced.
When
the offense took the field again, Louie lined up behind the center. Kids I knew
hated him before the revolution burst into loyal cheers. True to form her
turned and waved at the student section, letting us all know that the
pre-swirlie Louie was back.
We
had time for only one more play, but Louie looked confident. After the ball
snapped, every single lineman blocker harder than they had all year, giving
Louie a full thirty seconds to find the right pass. He let loose a perfect
spiral into the air. Still an apprehensive hush settled over the fans—as if
this play meant winning the game instead of simply narrowing the ginormous
deficit down to sixty-four points.
It landed safely in
the waiting hands of Leon Elba, who jammed it up into the air from the end
zone.
Fun scene - I understood it fine and I'm not a huge football guru :-)
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