Chapter 1
Coaches are all control freaks, take-charge guys who don t do the work but tell those who do what to do.
That thought flashed through Chris Bowen s mind as he watched Coach Cahill shout the next play into the earhole of Tom Sword s helmet. Chris glanced at the other sideline and noticed that team s coach was doing the same thing to one of his players. Mirror images, opposing sides. He shook his head, tried to focus, and mentally chewed himself out for letting his mind wander, but he couldn t help it. His brain just did that sometimes when there was a lull in the action.
He looked up. Fans were stomping their feet on the stands, the drummers driving them into a frenzy. Cheerleaders bounced and waved pompons. He turned his gaze back to Sword, who nodded and then hopped like a jackrabbit a step or two onto the field before Cahill caught his arm and shouted something else into his ear.
Chris s mind wandered again. Why did coaches get so much credit? The players were the ones who made the game. No matter how strong or well-coached they were, things always happened that made it go out of control, which was what made it all so exciting and crazy. Just like life.
Cahill slapped Sword on the back, then resumed prowling the sideline, back and forth, tapping his leg with a rolled-up play sheet. Players got out of his way.
Sword ran in. Chris glanced at the sc