Free Revenge of the Bully by Scott Starkey

ready to soak in the cheers of the adoring crowd.
    I was met by silence. It was oddly terrifying. My first thought was that I was in some bizarre dream. Finally the crowd erupted—into screeching laughter. All I saw were fingers pointing at me. I quickly checked to see if my pants were still on.
    The line judge walked over and picked up the ball I had spiked. “That was some run, son,” he said. “Too bad the other team called time-out just before the play got off.”
    I hadn’t heard the call because of the dumb ringing in my ears! Feeling like a fool, I walked back to the huddle through the howling Streetsboro defense.
    â€œClassic Rathbone!” Trevor called from the side.
    The game ended a few minutes later. Streetsboro held on for the 3–0 win.
    I avoided looking into the crowd. I didn’t want to see any more smiling, laughing faces. At least I’d given them something to enjoy. Trailing Coach Laimbardi, we shuffled back to the locker room. Losing the game was bad enough, but playing the role of town bonehead . . . well, I felt pretty low.
    The rest of the team and I sat down on the wooden benches with our helmets resting by our feet. I wasn’t looking forward to the speech I knew was coming. Was he going to yell at us? At me? I kept my eyes fixed on a pattern in the blue linoleum tile floor. Coach Laimbardi walked into the middle of the locker room.
    â€œBoys, that was spectacular!” he cheered.
    Huh?
    â€œCoach Manuel, when was the last time we lost by only three?”
    â€œFive years ago.”
    Coach Laimbardi blotted his eyes. “You boys have made me very happy today. Well done! A three-point loss. I think I’ll be heading out with Mrs. Laimbardi and treating myself to the surf and turf tonight. I’ll see you Monday. Game ball goes to Rathbone! Enjoy the rest of your weekend!”

    We changed back into our street clothes. Coach’s speech had an uplifting effect, and while I had to deal with the typical “Nice run, Rodney!” comments, I recognized that it was okay to laugh at myself. In the end, the whole team was cracking up about the famous “Time-out Touchdown.” I joked around with everyone as they filed out of the locker room and was actually starting to feel pretty good when one word sent a shiver down my spine.
    â€œScram!”
    It was the unmistakable voice of Cheese and it was directed to the few kids still left talking to me. I turned around to face him. Cheese was well over six feet tall and looked about as wide as our entire offensive line. The remaining teammates took one look at the oversize visitor and bolted. Cheese called out, “Da coast is clear.”
    The Boss and Willy walked in. Followed by Rishi! Satisfied that no one else was in the locker room, the Boss stared down at me and shook his head. Something told me the words “Better luck next time” weren’t about to spring from his lips. He got right to the point.
    â€œYour friend here”—he motioned at Rishi—“ain’t doing you no favors.”
    Rishi spoke up excitedly. “I still say it will put you on the map.”
    â€œIt’ll put me in the poorhouse!” the Boss shouted. “I’ll go broke.”
    I was completely confused. “Can somebody please tell me what’s going on?”
    â€œSure,” the Boss growled, “I’ll tell yuh. This little joker is about to cost me a boatload of money. He talked me into the dumbest thing I ever did. He said I should run a full-page ad for Mama’s in tomorrow’s daily paper. We sent it out right before da game.”
    â€œWhat’s so dumb about that?” I asked.
    He was ready to explode. “What’s so dumb ? The ad promises that once we open, Mama’s gotta give away a whole day of free food for each G-Men loss between tomorrow and the grand opening. That’s still weeks away! I’ll go out of business before we even