Free Football Genius (2007) by Tim Green

decoy. The wide receiver is gonna fake like he's running deep, then come back."
    The Georgia Tech quarterback snapped the ball and dropped back. He pump-faked to the tight end in the middle, then threw a bullet to the wide receiver near the sideline. The receiver stopped running at the last second and came back to make the catch.
    "Holy shoot," Seth said when it happened.
    Five plays later, Georgia Tech stalled on their march to the end zone and kicked a field goal. Troy had been right about every play.
    "Holy crow," Seth said, "you're like a football genius.
    "Kid, do you know what this means?"

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

    NEITHER OF THEM HEARD his mom's car, but the screen door squeaked and she came in with a bag of groceries. Her face turned red at the sight of the Falcons' star linebacker.
    "I...thought I was supposed to meet you," she said to Seth. "I thought maybe something came up."
    "I've been hit in the head too many times," he said, running a hand through his long hair as he got up. "I knew where you meant when you said the dirt road off Route 141 where the old-timer sells peanuts, so I figured I'd meet you."
    Seth took the groceries from her. She thanked him and said to just set them on the kitchen table.
    Troy's mom looked at the ball in his hands and he set it down on the coffee table.
    "I gave it back to him," Seth said, coming back into the living room.
    "Please," his mom said, "he needs to learn you can't do things like that."
    "I traded him," Seth said. "Do you know what he can do?"
    Troy's mom looked at the TV, then at Troy. She puckered her lips and slowly nodded.
    "He's like the weatherman," she said. "Not always right."
    "He was right for me," Seth said. "He was right about T.O., and if Bryan Scott listened to him we'd have beat Dallas."
    "He's a sixth grader," his mom said.
    "I know you just started with the team," Seth said. "But I gotta tell you, I've only got a couple years left in this game and I want a ring, a Super Bowl championship ring. You gotta have a great team, but it's more than that. You need an edge, an angle, something special.
    "He could be our edge. It's not like black magic or something. Every team uses computers to analyze tendencies and formations. He's just like a supercomputer or something."
    Troy's mom winced.
    "A computer?" she said.
    "A genius," Seth said. "Not like a genius genius. A football genius. Normal in every other way--average."
    "I threw a touchdown pass the other night thirty-eight yards in the air," Troy said, proud of his throwing arm and not liking the sound of "average."
    Seth looked from Troy back to his mom and said, "He doesn't even know how--he just does it, like one of those people who can look at a spilled box of toothpicks and tell you how many there are in two seconds. They just count them. They don't even know how."
    "Well," his mom said, "it's all nice."
    "Tessa," Seth said, stepping toward her, "I know you don't know me that well, but if you ask people they'll tell you I'm a pretty good guy."
    "I don't doubt that," she said.
    "She saw when you went to that homeless shelter on TV," Troy said, nodding his head and noticing that for some reason his mom's face went redder still.
    "I've got to show the coaches," Seth said. "I mean, he could help the team."
    "Oh no," his mom said. "I just got my job back. He can't have anything to do with the team. He can't go near that place. Cecilia Fetters sees him and it doesn't matter how nice Mr. Langan is. She made that clear."
    "Tessa," Seth said, opening his arms, "he'll be with me. I've been here for twelve years. I'm like Mr. Falcon. When the time comes, they'll probably retire my jersey. He'll be fine. Please."
    "Please, Mom," Troy said, gripping the cushion underneath him.
    "I need this job," she said to Seth, throwing her hands up in the air. "I just can't take a chance. I'm sorry."
    "You can't take a chance!" Troy shouted, jumping up. "A chance on me!"
    "I believe you're still grounded, mister," his mom said, pointing