The Big Time

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

" WHAT SAME THING ARE you two thinking?" Tate asked.

Nathan said, "That Troy's dad-"

"Can represent me," Troy said, finishing the sentence.

"Guys," Tate said, "you just met the man."

"It's his father, Tate," Nathan said, rolling his eyes.

"You think I'm blind?" Tate said. "He still just met the man. Troy doesn't even know him."

"He doesn't know any of these agents banging down his door either," Nathan said.

"He knows Seth," Tate said. "And Seth has an agent. Don't you think you'd want to be with someone you know you can t-"

"What?" Troy asked, glaring at Tate. "Trust? That's what you were going to say, isn't it, Tate? Why wouldn't I trust my own father?"

Troy stared at her until Tate looked away.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'll keep my mouth shut. Can we talk about all this later? I mean, you've got to help the Falcons win this game, right? We shouldn't be distracting you. Mr. Langan asked us not to, remember, Nathan?"

"I'm not distracting him," Nathan said, jabbing his thumb into his chest. "I'm helping him."

"I probably should get focused on the game," Troy said, realizing that less than three minutes remained on the clock before the team would come bursting through the smoke and flames at the mouth of the Falcons tunnel. "I'm not going to have to worry about contracts or agents or any of this if I can't keep helping them win. That's football, right? You're only as good as your last game. Come on, let's watch."

Troy buried the card in his left pocket. They got up and stood right on the broad white strip of sideline at the midpoint of the field. The dome began to rumble. The announcer's voice shouted out a welcome to the fans and introduced the Falcons' defensive starters one by one. The tunnel exploded with fresh flames as each defender burst from the tunnel at the sound of his name, sprinting past a double row of cheerleaders. Seth was the last defender to be announced, and he got the loudest cheers. The rest of the team came racing out of the tunnel behind him, accompanied by a surge of twenty-foot flames. The Falcons formed a twisting mass at the center of the field, shouting and jumping and hooting at the top of their lungs. Smoke floated toward the roof. The crowd went wild, and Troy and his friends had to plug their ears.

The team migrated to the bench area, but energy stayed high, even when the Falcons lost the coin toss. The fans cheered when the Packers chose to receive the kickoff. The entire crowd seemed eager to see Seth and the defense tear into the Packers with the help of their secret weapon who was no longer a secret. Troy stood next to Coach Mora at the edge of the sideline, while Tate and Nathan had to stay on the bench so they wouldn't get trampled. As the captains came off the field after the coin toss, the cameraman with the handheld camera jogged along behind them and practically stuck his lens in Troy's face. The red light went on, and Troy shifted on his feet and blushed.

"Oh, no," Coach Mora said, grabbing the cameraman by the shoulder and gently shoving him away. "You guys stay out of his face. He needs to work."

The cameraman disappeared up the sideline, outside the team's yellow line. The Falcons' kickoff team took the field. Seth appeared beside Troy, his eyes bugging out and a crazed smile plastered across his face.

"You ready, buddy?" Seth asked, holding up a taped fist.

"Yeah," Troy said. The word came out so quietly, he was sure Seth couldn't hear it amid all the noise, so he nodded his head.

The whistle sounded. The game began. The Falcons' kickoff team smashed the Packers' returner, pinning the visitors deep in their own territory.

The defense now took the field, and Troy put his hands on his knees and focused on Green Bay: on their offensive personnel, the body language of the different players, the formations, the motion, the action. After every play Coach Mora would glance at Troy expectantly, waiting for his genius to kick in. Usually it took eight to twelve plays before the patterns became clear. A couple of times over the past weeks, Troy's ability had been stifled by pressure, and once by a lingering headache after Troy took a shot to the head in one of his junior league games.

Having his father suddenly appear in his life had no doubt created some extra stress and tension, but after only five plays Troy broke into a huge grin.

"Screen pass left," Troy said to Mora.

Coach Mora gave him a startled look, then returned his smile before frantically signaling to Seth out on the field to let him know about the screen. Quickly, with a second series of hand signals, Mora told Seth to put the defense in a blanket zone coverage that would shut down any screen. Seth paused for a moment, then began shouting instructions to his fellow players that Troy couldn't make out. The Packers approached the line. The Falcons scrambled to their places. Troy looked back at his two friends. His mom stood there now as well, and he gave them all a thumbs-up before turning his attention back to the field.

The Packers ran exactly what Troy had predicted: a screen to the left.

But instead of the blanket zone Mora had called for, the Falcons' defense rushed with an all-out blitz, with most of the team gushing up through the line. Troy shot a look of disbelief at Mora, who winced in anger. The Packers' linemen let the Falcons' defense right through. The quarterback retreated, drawing them farther up the field like a pack of dogs mad for a rabbit. Only a handful of Falcons dropped into coverage. Seth stayed close to the line, floating toward the Packers' running back, who had pretended to fall down before getting up and sprinting for the sideline to catch the screen. Most of the defense was too far up the field to possibly catch him, but the instant the quarterback threw to the running back, Seth made his move, darting for the ball, leaping for the interception and what would surely be a Falcons' defensive touchdown.

The ball floated in the air. The Packers' runner settled his hips and cupped his arms to catch it. It was all or nothing. If Seth caught it, he would score a touchdown for the Falcons. If he missed, none of the other Falcons' defenders were in position to keep the runner from the end zone.

Seth leaped into the air.