Tackle Without a Team Read Online Free PDF Page B

alternative.”
    “I know,” Scott said sadly. He didn’t know what else to say.
    “Good evening, Mrs. Kramer, Scott,” the coach said and left.
    Mrs. Kramer closed the door quietly, then walked past Scott without a word and sat down on the sofa.
    “I’m sorry, Ma,” Scott said, following her into the room. “I’m sorry I never told you.”
    She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I don’t expect you to tell me everything. But you’ve been hiding so much lately,
     I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
    Even though her voice was gentle, almost resigned, her words stung Scott. Now even his mother doubted him.
    Whoever had framed Scott had caused more damage than he or she could ever have imagined.

F IVE

    Kear rode his bike over to Scott’s house after school the next day. Scott was mowing the lawn, and he shut the motor off as
     Kear pedaled up the driveway.
    “How about going bike riding?” Kear suggested. “That lawn doesn’t look like it needs cutting.”
    Scott paused. No, it doesn’t, he thought as he glanced over the large front lawn. But he had to do something to patch things
     up between him and his father.
    “I don’t know,” he told Kear. He would have liked to go, but then again, he had his father to think about.
    “Come on,” Kear coaxed. “You can mow that lawn anytime.”
    Scott thought about that a minute and grinned. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he said. “Be with you in a minute.”
    He pushed the mower into the garage and took out his bike. Then he and Kear rode out of the driveway and down the street.
     Scott let Kear take the lead.
    They rode in silence. Scott had his eyes on the pavement most of the time, his thoughts on the future football career that
     had gone up in smoke. There were times he had thought of winning a football scholarship. Maybe those same thoughts were in
     his father’s mind, too. That could explain why he was so angry about what had happened.
    Who was the crumb who had put the marijuana into his duffel bag, anyway? And why would he or she do such a lousy thing?
    The sound of voices pulled him out of his reverie. He looked up to see that they were riding by the city park, where a bunch
     of guys were practicing football. Did Kear ride by here on purpose? he asked himself.
    “Well, what do you know?” Kear said, stopping at the curb. “A football practice.”
    Scott pulled up behind him. “I suppose you didn’t know about this?”
    Kear looked at him and grinned. “Shall we watch them awhile? Maybe we can get a few pointers.”
    Scott grinned. “Smartmouth,” he said.
    Kear lifted his bike over the curb, walked it into the park, and stood it up against an oak tree. Scott parked his beside
     it.
    “Who are these guys?” he asked.
    “The Cougars,” Kear said.
    “Cougars? Never heard of them.”
    “It’s a new team—that’s why they’re not in a league,” Kear explained.
    Scott looked at him. “How do you know so much about them?”
    “A couple of their players live near me,” Kear said.
    They sat down on a thick root under the comfortable shade of the oak tree and watched the Cougars work out. The players were
     dressed in worn, smudgy, green uniforms with “Cougars” printed across the front and large numberson the back. A guy about six feet tall, with a crew cut and wearing a gray sweatshirt and pants, was coaching the players.

    He was working out with the offense, showing a kid how to take the ball from center, fade back, and heave a pass to a running
     back. Five players, including a linebacker, formed a defensive line, and five an offensive line, including the center. Another
     group of players, some twenty feet away, were practicing man-on-man defense.
    The scene made Scott nostalgic. He sought out the guards and tackles and saw a big, brawny kid wearing the dirtiest uniform
     on the field pushing his man back with hardly any resistance. I wonder if he could do that to me, Scott thought. His heart
     picked up a