Free The Great Quarterback Switch by Matt Christopher Page B

to catch a cold,” she said.
    Just like a mother,
Michael thought. “Oh, Mom, let me alone,” he said, embarrassed. “I’m fine. Really I am.”

2
    V ince booted the ball between the uprights for the extra point. 7-0, Eagles.
    In the second quarter Angie latched onto a pass that put the ball on the Colts’ eleven-yard line. After that it was easy riding
     for another score, Jim getting it with a plunge through left tackle from the two-yard line. Then Vince collected his second
     point after. 14-0, Eagles.
    Four minutes before the half ended, the Colts’ quarterback, Larry Tubbs, pulled one out of the hat. He took the snap from
     center, faked a handoff to his fullback, Jay Henderson,then rolled to the right and released a long pass to his left end, Pat June. Pat caught the pass and had clear sailing ahead
     of him as he went for the Colts’ first touchdown. Larry’s point-after kick was perfect. 14-7, Eagles.
    There were two minutes to go before the half ended. Then one minute…
    The Eagles were on the march, heading for another touchdown. The ball was on the Colts’ eight-yard line. Tom was calling signals.
    Michael sat stiffly in his chair, his hands gripping the armrests. His pulse throbbed. He saw the snap from center, and could
     almost feel the ball slide into his hands.
    Grip the ball. Spread the fingers. Hand the ball off to Vince. Go, Vince, go!
    Vince plowed through for three yards.
    Quickly, the Eagles went into a huddle, scrambled out of it, ran again. It was another short gain.
    The seconds ticked away. “Pass it!” Michael yelled, excitedly. “Pass it, Tom!”
    Tom passed it, a bullet throw to Jim Berry, just left of the goalposts. Jim caught it.
    “Way to go, Tom!” Michael cried, bouncing up and down in the chair, both fists raised in triumph. “You pulled it off!”
    Rick glanced around at him. “Hey, man. You called it again.”
    Michael’s face wreathed with a smile. “Sure. We’ve got ESP, I tell you.”
    Vince’s kick for the point after was off to the side. But the lead was safe, 20-7.
    Seconds later the horn blared, ending the first half.
    Rick and the other guys on the bench dashed off to join their team for a meeting with the coach in the west end zone. The
     Colts were running to join their coach, in the east end zone.
    Michael sat back, took a deep breath, and relaxed.
    “Can I get you a hot dog and a soda?” his mother asked him. She had come up in front of him, her warm voice like a song in
     the cool September air. The breeze played with the straight ends of her hair.
    “That’d be great, Mom,” he said. “I’m starved.”
    He wasn’t really, but a hot dog and a soda would taste good right now.
    “I’ll be right back,” she said, and hurried away.
    Michael’s father came up beside him. “Enjoying the game, son?” he asked. Mr. Curtis was six feet tall, slim and pencil-straight.
     The back of his left hand was scarred from a burn he had received while fighting a barn fire three years ago. He was a volunteer
     fireman with the Bruner Volunteer Fire Company.
    “I sure am, Dad,” Michael replied.
    “Tom’s doing all right, isn’t he?”
    “He’s doing real well.” Michael paused, thinking.
I won’t say anything to him about ESP. He might not believe in it.
    “Got something on your mind?” his father asked. His brown eyes bored gently into Michael’s. Crescent lines formed around his
     mouth as he smiled.
    Michael looked at him, surprised. “No. Why should I?”
    “I thought for a minute you wanted to say something else.”
    Michael frowned, then nodded. “I did, Dad. But maybe you’ll laugh at me if I say it.”
    Mr. Curtis shrugged. “Okay. I promise I won’t laugh.”
    Michael hesitated, then looked closely at his father. “Do you believe in ESP, Dad?”
    His father looked at him, straightened upto his full height, and ran a hand across his chin. “Well, I do, to some extent, Michael. Why?”
    “Maybe you think I’m crazy, but it seemed as