QB Sneak

Chapter 7: Dismissed.

I went back to my locker and donned my #5 jersey, once again the understudy. This time, it wasn't even fair. Reluctantly, I stepped outside. Even though it was nothing new, being the backup again felt like it punched me in the gut. 

"This is gonna get worse, I just know it." I thought as I headed out to the field, stretching as I go. As I lined up in stretches, I saw a player collapse to the ground, moaning in pain and clutching his leg. Seeing the #2 jersey, I figured that the injured player was Evan Chandler, our punter. The athletic trainer hustled over and Evan was brought off. Another injury, yippee. We ran through our plays. I was substituted in for Geo after a few plays. 

"24." Coach called. I flipped through my armband, looking for 24 on the cheat sheet.

23: HB Dive Liz

24: HB Dive Rip

25: Full Power Liz

"HB Dive Rip." I told the huddle. "Break." We all clapped and headed to our positions. I motioned for Blake, our elusive halfback, to scoot a little wider to my right.

"Ready, Green 25, Green 25! Sehut!" The ball is snapped. I catch the snap and take to my right. I turn around, as if on cue, to see Blake ready for the ball. I stick it out and he nabs it and takes off. He looks for the correct gap to attack, between the right guard and tackle. I sit around for the next couple plays, until I hear my name fly into the air among the many being shouted during this practice.

"PADDOCK!" Coach yelled. I trotted over.

"Can you punt?" He asks me. I punted in junior high and take over as a reserve in the event of an emergency. 

"Yeah, why?"

"You're punting today. Chandler's out."

Well, I can't say I wasn't warned. First backup QB, and now I'm demoted to punter. I was our team's punter in middle school, back before Evan and Miles discovering what football was. I guess I was the team's emergency punter today too, given that all the other guys on the soccer team were at an away game.

"Hey, real quick, punt formation and return, on the ball, go, go, go, on the hop fellas!" Our coach yells as PJ set up deep to return. 

"Ready." Quentin Farmer, my blocker mumbles quietly. 

"Seet." 

I extend my arms out to signal myself as ready. CJ sees this and snaps the ball. I catch it, drop it out, and boot the ball. It wobbled out to the left a little, but PJ shuffled over and caught it with a smack, before being smeared into the grass by Dylan Guevara, one of the blockers. Looks like I've still got it. 

We rattled off a few more practice reps before heading back inside for final preperations. I immediately rip the buckles off my helmet once we break ranks and head inside and trot to where a bus crosses the street that wraps around our school. On the side of the bus in large black letters it says "WHITEWATER SCHOOL CORPORATION". The bus creaks to a halt as tired players walk out in crisp white and blue jerseys. The bus left as they trotted into their locker room and we trotted into ours. The linemen shortly followed and I changed from my practice jersey to my fresh black game kit. Rain began to pepper our rooftop. "Dress warm, fellas, it's gonna be a cold one!" Coach announced. I instinctively reached into my locker for my compression shirt. Another layer would certainly help keep my noodle arm warm. 

I really should have lifted this offseason.

"Hey, one more thing," Coach announced. "We're currently under the limit of rostered players on the team. We have to have 35 dress for the game. Dunn. Jerry Martinez. Cummings. Cunningham."