Emergency Quarterback Read Online Free PDF

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    Jason called a play that targeted Calvin as the receiver fifteen yards upfield near the sideline. “Preserve the clock,” he said. “Get out of bounds if you can.”
    He took the snap and stepped back into the pocket, but the defenders were already closing in. Anthony and Sergio and the others were battling to give Jason protection, but white-uniformed arms were reaching high to thwart any passes and the Hornets were being driven backwards.
    Jason darted to his left and managed to escape from the horde, but a linebacker brought him down after a three-yard gain. More importantly, the clock was still running.
    Jason scrambled to his feet and motioned for his team to line up. He grabbed Calvin’s arm and said, “Same play.” He hoped the rest of the players would assume that.
    The rush this time was even more intense, and a blitzing linebacker was zeroing in from Jason’s left. He took off at a sprint to his right, away from Calvin’s side of the field, and frantically stayed a stride ahead of the linebacker.
    There was Lamont, running parallel to Jason about twenty yards upfield. Jason threw the ball on the run but got little power behind it. It fell to the turf a few yards shy of the receiver.
    The incomplete pass stopped the clock, but now it was third and seven. The team huddled up. “Let’s not panic,” Jason said, as much for himself as for his teammates.
    “I was open,” Calvin said.
    “Couldn’t even see you,” Jason replied.
    “I know. I mean, that play can work again.”
    “We ran it twice in a row already. Split to the other side.” Jason looked up, scanning the defensive alignment. “Lament—sorry that pass was so lame. Run the same pattern. Let’s go!”
    The Hornets’ line held fast this time, and Jason stayed in the pocket. Calvin was a step ahead of the cornerback and Lamont was also clear. Either option would work. Jason took a step forward and prepared to launch the ball.
    A massive, unexpected hit forced all the air from Jason’s lungs and sent him sprawling to the ground. Things went black for a fraction of a second as the ball rolled backwards. Jason struggled to get up but the linebacker had him pinned. Players were running past him like a stampede of cattle.
    When Jason got to his feet, a Bayonne lineman was in the end zone, holding the ball aloft with one hand as his teammates celebrated around him. The fumble had been scooped up and returned for a touchdown. The Hudson City winning streak was over.

6
    MandatoryPizza
    J ason had a rough night, tossing and turning and punching his pillow a couple of times. The coaches and his teammates—most of them, anyway—had insisted that he shouldn’t feel responsible for the loss. But there was no disputing those two costly turnovers. He spent several hours just staring at the ceiling of his bedroom. It was well after three A.M. when he finally nodded off.
    In his dreams, he was chasing a football around a muddy field, feeling it slip through his fingers every time he thought he had a grip on it. The ball sprouted short, chubby legs and started squealing like a pig, staying just out of Jason’s reach as he chased it round and round. Spectators in the bleachers were laughing loudly and hooting at him. Every few seconds, a giant linebacker would knock him flat.
    He woke with a start and looked around the room. The sun was just coming up. He put on a sweatshirt and went downstairs. His parents weren’t awake yet.
    The Sunday newspaper was on the stoop, and Jason carried it in. He scanned the results of the high-school games—Hudson City had lost to Memorial—and read the preview of that afternoon’s Giants-Eagles NFL game. Then he turned to the youth sports section.
    Dad came down after a few minutes and put his hand on Jason’s shoulder. “You all right?” he asked.
    “Yeah. I’m embarrassed mostly.”
    “Don’t be.”
    “Hard not to be.”
    “You’re still in first place.”
    “Just barely.”

    Saturday’s