Free The Walk On by John Feinstein Page A

Coach Hillier?” he said. “He could answer that better than I can.”
    Too wiseguy? he wondered. Still, it was the
right
answer—regardless of how she took it.
    She put her hands on her hips, which was, to Alex, a very striking pose, even though she was wearing a backpack.
    “Of course I asked him. He said, ‘As editor of the newspaper, my answer is you should talk to people if you think there’s a story there. As a football coach, I’ll tell you that Matt Gordon is going to be an all-state quarterback this season and Alex Myers is a talented freshman.’ ”
    Alex shrugged. “So there’s your answer.”
    “I don’t think it’s that simple. I heard that Matt Gordon calls you Goldie because you have a golden arm.”
    He liked the fact that she was hearing these things, but he couldn’t help but wonder
where
she was hearing them. Football practices were strictly closed to outsiders. He couldn’t imagine anyone on the team telling her any of this. Maybe Jonas—trying to help him out?
    “Do you know Jonas Ellington?” he asked.
    “He’s the wide receiver, right? Freshman? I hear he’s
really
good.”
    “Where’d you hear that?”
    She smiled. “From Coach Hillier.”
    “Have you met Jonas?”
    “No, but I hope I will tomorrow night.”
    So. Not Jonas.
    Her hands were back on her hips.
    The bell rang, telling people that after-school meetings and clubs started in ten minutes. He had to get to practice. “So?” she said.
    “So what?” he answered.
    “Are you better than Matt Gordon?”
    He smiled.
    “On the record or off the record?”
    “On,” she answered, sounding impatient.
    “On the record, Matt Gordon’s going to be an all-state quarterback this season,” he answered. “I’m honored to be on the same team as him. He’s a great guy and a terrific leader.” He paused. “By the way, I mean every word of that.”
    Now she looked really upset.
    “Okay,” she said. “Off the record.”
    “Am I better than Matt?”
    “Yes.”
    “Damn right I am,” he said.
    Then he smiled and walked away.

    The opponent on Friday night was Mercer Academy, a prep school from the western part of the state. Chester Heights would play three nonconference games, all against prep schools. Then they would begin conference play the last Friday in September.
    There were seven other schools in the South Philadelphia Athletic Conference. Although Alex did most of his reading on the Internet, he had picked up his father’s habit of reading the sports section of the newspaper every morning. He had noticed that the
Philadelphia Inquirer
had made predictions for each of the local high school conferences in the area. Chester Heights was picked to win the SPAC—which people apparently referred to as the “S-pack.” Crosstown rival Chester High School was known more for producing top basketball players—NBA players Jameer Nelson and Tyreke Evans had graduated from there, as had Wisconsin basketball coach Bo Ryan—but was picked second in the league. Apparently, the Chester Clippers had a senior quarterback named Todd Austin who was being pursued by quite a few Division I schools.
    During the week, the coaches told the players constantly that Mercer was a “dangerous” team and that the game should not be taken lightly. After Coach Hillier had finished a quarterbacks meeting on Wednesday with a final warning about Mercer, Matt Gordon shot Alex and Jake a look but managed not to laugh until Coach Hillier had left the room.
    “You might be in by halftime on Friday, Jake,” he said. “These guys are never any good. They don’t even recruit. The only prep schools that are good are the ones that recruit.”
    “Isn’t it against the rules to recruit in high school?” Alex asked.
    Gordon laughed again. “Ah, Goldie, still just a trusting freshman. Any prep team you see play on TV, anyone that’s any good, recruits. They don’t do it like colleges do; they just make sure good players are ‘aware’ of them.