The House of Wolves (House of Wolves #1)(84)

I called a time-out and waved Chris over.

“You know that play we always mess around with at the end of practice?”

He said he knew which one.

I turned and yelled at Noah Glynn. When he was standing there with us, I told him what we were going to do.

“Cool.”

Noah lined up at quarterback. Chris lined up at wide receiver. After Noah took the snap, Chris stepped back so that he was behind Noah. Noah threw him a pass. As soon as Chris caught the ball again, Noah was flying down the left sideline. He was a wide receiver now. And wide open. Chris hit him with as long a pass as he’d thrown all season.

I kept Noah in the game. Even though Chris lined up at quarterback, our center direct-snapped the ball to Noah, who ran in for the two-point conversion.

Now we were only losing 14–8.

Yeah, I thought.

Yeah.

The kids were back in the game. So was I. The only drama in my life right now was in front of me on the field. I realized as we walked to the locker room what it would have been like to sit this out—and how close I’d come to doing just that.

“They’ve already played their best game,” I said to them at halftime. “But we haven’t.”

As I walked back on the field, I saw Ryan and Billy McGee sitting in the stands. Because of the Hunters Point–Basin Park game, the Wolves’ normal Saturday morning walk-through of their plays would be held later in the afternoon. Money McGee came down through the stands and leaned over the railing.

“Any words of wisdom?”

“Yeah, dude. Keep both your quarterbacks in the game.”

“Really?”

“I like your starter,” McGee said. “But the little guy reminds me of me.” He winked. “It’s a good thing.”

“Got any good plays?”

“Just one.”

He told me, and I said, “Does that still work?” Billy McGee winked again. “Only, like, since the beginning of time.”

The Bears didn’t move the ball much in the third quarter. But we didn’t fall further behind, either, because the defense just kept getting better and better, not letting the Patriots past midfield. I paced the sideline and couldn’t believe how fast the second half was unfolding, my team still down six points.

The kids had told me they’d nearly lost a couple of weeks ago because I wasn’t there. Now I had this fourth quarter to prove I was worth having back. That I was as present as I’d been all season.

Ryan had once told me that he felt sorry for people who couldn’t experience what he did in close games like this.

Now I understood what he was talking about.

We got the ball back on our thirty yard line with three minutes left and began to move it again, really for the first time in the second half. I did keep both Chris Tinelli and Noah Glynn on the field, just like Money McGee had told me to. They were both getting chances to throw the ball and keeping the Basin Park defense off balance because of it.

Finally, there were twenty seconds left when we had a second down from the Basin Park five yard line. I had to call our last time-out. Both Chris and Noah came running over to me.

I gave them two plays. One that I promised them would get us the touchdown that would tie the game. And another for the two-point conversion that would win it.

“Really?” Chris said.

“Those are the plays?” Noah said. “Like, for real?”

I bumped them both some fist.

“We having any fun yet?”

Chris lined up under center. Noah was behind him. Chris took the snap and rolled to his right and threw a short pass to Noah, who caught the ball but had two defenders in front of him and no daylight.

But almost as soon as he caught the ball, Chris Tinelli was flying out of the backfield, and Noah lateraled the ball to him before he was tackled. Chris ran into the end zone untouched to tie the championship game 14–14.

Chris and Noah knew what to run next. Chris was back under center; Noah was lined up as a wide receiver to his left. Chris dropped back to pass. Now it was Noah flying around from his left, grabbing the ball out of Chris’s hand.

What had always been known as the Statue of Liberty play. The one Money McGee said really was still money.

Nobody caught Noah before he got to the end zone, the little guy a streak of light one last time this season as he got us the two points that won the Bears the championship game.

Bears 16, Patriots 14.

Final.

There would be a picture the next day in the Tribune of me jumping higher than I ever could before that moment. Looking happier than I had been in a long time.

The kids tried to hand me the championship trophy during the presentation ceremony, but I handed it right back to Chris and Noah. I looked into the stands and saw Money McGee grinning at me, arms out, palms facing the sky, as if to say, Told you.

We all went back to have a party at All Good Pizza, the place where Chris had eaten before he’d gotten mugged that night. Mugged, I was still certain, because of me. I’d always thought it was somebody John Gallo or my brother Jack had sent, even though I might not ever know for sure.

I had paid All Good to close the place down for us, both the front and back rooms. Before I left, I took one last look at the Hunters Point Bears and tried to remember if there was a single time that I’d had a day like this when I was in high school, when I was growing up in the house of Wolf.