snarled. “Yeah, with your picture on it.”
Lance shook his head. “No, Jess’s picture will be taped on it.”
The guys laughed, relieved their stress was gone. Matt picked up his ball from the sideline and threw it to Scott who always took over Derek’s quarterback position for his team.
Randy turned his attention from Derek to Scott. He creased his brows, holding back a smirk. Here was his golden opportunity to clobber Scott, his greatest annoyance. He stroked his chin as if thinking. “Let’s play an all-out football game.”
Karl’s eyes widened. “No rules?”
Randy growled, “Rule 1, there are no rules. Everything goes.”
The guys looked over at Scott. They knew he would be Randy’s punching bag.
Karl asked, “So what do you say, Scott?”
Scott observed Randy’s challenging glare. He replied fearlessly, “Let’s go for it.”
Everyone looked over at Matt, waiting for his input. Matt always kept his composure and had a way of organizing the final details.
While the guys waited for his answer, Matt studied Randy’s eager expression, moved his attention to the field, and then looked at his buddy Karl who raised an eyebrow. They both knew that if Scott broke an arm or leg, Derek would be coming to them, demanding to know why they had allowed this game. In no mood to deal with that monster, Matt replied, “There’s only one rule, no tackling in the end zone.”
The group of boys moved toward the center of the field. They huddled together as they placed their right hand in the pile. “Agreed,” they all yelled, pushing down on the mass of hands.
With that one rule established, the game began. After the first snap from Lance, Randy charged forward, noticing how the sun hindered Scott’s vision.
Scott just had time to toss the ball out of bounds before his head snapped back by the force of Randy’s hit on his left cheek. He was then thrown to the ground as Randy landed on top of him. Man, I should be wearing a helmet, Scott thought as he suppressed a groan, not wanting his enemy to know how much pain he felt.
Randy whispered, “Expect more of the same, nerd.”
Scott rolled to his side and forced himself to stand. He shook his head, trying to eliminate the white circling stars. The pain on his left cheek throbbed as he staggered over to the huddle.
Jess asked, “Dude, you okay?”
Scott nodded. “Yeah, run a square out.”
After the snap, Randy charged from the left side. He extended his arm before Scott could get rid of the ball. Randy grabbed the hem of Scott’s T-shirt. With his arm at full extension, Randy whirled his rival like a fan, tripped him, and then shoved Scott’s face toward the turf.
Scott hit the ground, amazingly keeping the ball safely tucked in his arms. On impact, he cut his bottom lip with his tooth. He spit the grass from his mouth, wiped the blood, and returned slowly to the huddle. Even if it killed him, Scott was determined to make a stand against Randy, his despised competitor.
Jess glared at Brett, seeing the blood on Scott’s lip. “Dude, you’re the blocker.”
Envious that Randy was having all the fun, Brett was unaffected. “Oh…sorry, Scott.” He stole a look at Lance who shook his head slightly. Brett knew his friend didn’t approve of his decision to help Randy annihilate Scott, but the best part was—Randy would have to deal with Derek.
After the next snap, Jess tripped Randy before running down the center, giving Scott the opportunity to pass. Jess jumped into the air, catching the ball. He landed on his feet and was immediately tackled by Karl, Matt, Troy, and Adam who dog-piled him.
While the game progressed, the players’ physical combat increased. They pushed, shoved, punched, tripped, bit, dog-piled, and tore clothes. Fifteen minutes before noon, Scott’s team positioned themselves on the imaginary twenty-yard line. After the snap, Scott faded back. He noticed Jess was covered and Randy was charging from the right. Scott tucked the ball and sprinted left with his enemy hot on his heels.
The players watched Randy tearing up the field after Scott. They held their breath, fearing the worst. Positive Randy would crush his hated opponent, they could already feel Scott’s tremendous pain. The guys watched Scott cross the end zone, slowing his pace. They sighed with relief when Randy sprinted past without tackling him.
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