Lose, Team, Lose! Read online

  I saw Sherman standing with his arms crossed in front of him. He had a big, gloating grin on his face. He flashed me a thumbs-up and started to laugh.

  And that’s when I had a brilliant idea.

  Bernie B., you’re a genius! In all modesty, a genius!

  The whistle blew. The game started. The Apples had the ball first.

  I called my team into a huddle. All girls—and me. And I knew I couldn’t lose!

  “You girls all line up in front,” I told them. “Jennifer and I will stay in the backfield.” I clapped my hands. “Let’s get ’em!”

  “But what’s the play?” Flora asked.

  “Don’t worry about a play,” I said. “Just take off your helmets. When you get to the line, take off your helmets.”

  Jennifer and I hung back. “Honey Cakes, what’s up with the no helmets?” Jennifer asked.

  “Just watch,” I said.

  The girls trotted up to face the Maniacs and pulled off their helmets. They shook out their hair.

  “Hey! It’s GIRLS!” a Maniac linebacker shouted.

  “Yo! We didn’t come here to play a bunch of girls!” another Maniac cried.

  “You gotta be kidding!” A big lineman groaned. “Girls? Playing football? It’s a joke—right?”

  “We’re just as good as you,” Flora Peevish said. She stuck out her tongue.

  “This is sick!” a Maniac shouted. “Where’s the REAL team? We can’t play girls!”

  Flora gave him a shove. He shoved her back. Her sister, Fauna, shoved another player. He pulled her hair.

  While they all argued, I handed the ball to Jennifer and she walked across the field, into the end zone for a touchdown. No one touched her. No one on the other team even saw her!

  We kicked the extra point. Seven to nothing, Fighting Apples.

  On the sidelines, April-May and the cheerleaders were going wild. “Ecch! Ecch! Ecch!” they cheered. “We don’t know what it rhymes with! Ecch! Ecch! Ecch!”

  Sherman had an unhappy frown on his face.

  Now the Maniacs had the ball. I sent the same girls back on the field with Jennifer and Beast.

  “What do we do?” Sharonda asked. “Try to tackle them?”

  “No way,” I said. “Don’t worry about tackling. How many of you girls are in the choir?” I asked.

  They all raised their hands.

  “When the play starts, sing that hymn you sing every morning,” I told them.

  They trotted up to the line. The Maniac quarterback yelled, “Hike!” and took the ball from his center.

  The girls began to sing their hymn. I’d never heard such beautiful voices.

  The Maniacs all stopped. They were staring at one another, shrugging their shoulder pads. Totally confused.

  Beast head-butted the quarterback right in the stomach. Jennifer grabbed the ball and ran for another touchdown.

  We kicked the extra point just as the girls finished their hymn. It was beautiful. Not a dry eye on the field.

  And the score: Apples 14, Maniacs zippo.

  See? Football is all about strategy. And who knows strategy better than Bernie B.?

  Flora, Fauna, and the other girls gathered around me. “This is fun!” Fauna cried. “What’s our next play, Bernie?”

  “How many of you girls can do cartwheels?” I asked.

  Chapter 16

  SHERMAN FEELS SORRY

  Belzer brought me breakfast in bed the next morning. Good kid, Belzer.

  Feenman and Crench must have smelled the eggs and bacon from their room across the hall. They came loping in, sniffing the air like dogs.

  “Good game yesterday!” Feenman said, grabbing a slice of bacon off my plate. “Fifty-two to nothing. Those girls can really play football!”

  “I just called the right plays,” I said. “No big deal.”

  “Let’s hear it for Bernie!” Belzer cried.

  We all cheered and punched knuckles and did the secret Rotten School Handshake.

  I stabbed Crench with my fork when he made a grab for my biscuits. “Who is our next victim?” I asked.

  “The Pushnik Country Day School Pushovers,” Crench said.

  We all laughed.

  “They’re pitiful losers,” Feenman said, eating my fruit cocktail with his hands. “We’ll win by at least a hundred points.”

  Belzer was ironing my school blazer for me. He shook his head. “Bernie, if the Apples win, you’ll have to let The Ecch knit ten sweaters for you. And they will all have hearts on them, saying, ‘Bernie Loves Jen.’”

  “I don’t care,” I said. “April-May came to me after the game yesterday. She said if we win the next game, she’ll let me sit at her table in the Dining Hall for an entire week!”

  Feenman pumped his fists in the air. “We’re going to be the state champs!” he shouted.

  “You’re a hero, Big B!” Belzer cried.

  We all cheered and did the secret handshake again. I looked down at my tray. Feenman and Crench had eaten my entire breakfast!

  Skip ahead fifteen minutes. I was shuffling across the Great Lawn, on my way to class. A bright, sunny morning—until Sherman Oaks appeared.

  “Like my new soccer shirt?” he asked, stepping in front of me. “It’s made out of my own hair! That’s why it’s so soft and beautiful.”

  “Sweet,” I muttered. I tried to move around him, but he blocked my path.

  Sherman put a hand on my shoulder. “I feel terrible about your game next Saturday,” he said. “I really do.”

  “Against the Pushovers?” I said. “We’re gonna win big-time.”

  “I know,” Sherman said, shaking his head sadly. “That’s why I feel sorry for you.”

  I stared at him. “Sorry for me? What do you mean?”

  Chapter 17

  HUGE BOYS

  Sherman raised his DVD player and pushed some buttons. On the screen came the biggest, meanest, ugliest fourth-grade football team I’d ever seen.

  “Sherman, what is this?” I asked, staring at the faces on the screen. “You’re showing me zoo animals? Can these huge beasts survive in captivity?”

  “If you beat the Pushovers on Saturday,” Sherman said, “this is the team you play for the State Championship.”

  “Who—who are they?” I stammered.

  “It’s the team from the Huge Boys Academy,” Sherman said. “Know what their team name is? The Bone-Breakers!”

  I watched the team playing on the DVD screen. “What’s that cracking sound?” I asked.

  “They’re breaking bones,” Sherman said. “That’s what they do. They like to break bones.”

  “Sherman, turn that thing off!” I cried. “We can’t play a team that big! We—we—” My chin hit the ground.

  “You’ll have to play them,” Sherman said, a big grin on his face. “You’ll have to play the Bone-Breakers, Bernie—if you beat the Pushovers!”

  I walked away, shaking my head. The sun was still bright and warm, but I saw only darkness. And I felt a chill that ran down my whole body.

  We’ve got to LOSE on Saturday! I told myself. I can’t allow the team to win.

  We’ve got to LOSE! But…how?

  Chapter 18

  THE NEW ALL-STARS

  A whole new team. That was the answer. My team was too good. I had to put together a team so lame, it would lose to the pitiful Pushovers.

  I rounded up guys from my dorm. I knew my buddies would come through for me—and help us lose big-time on Saturday.

  That afternoon, I dragged them out to the practice field.

  “Nosebleed, get over here,” I said. “Go out for a pass.”

  “But, Bernie,” he whined. “It’s too windy out here. You know a strong wind gives me a nosebleed.”

  “That’s why you’re the new wide receiver,” I said. “Here. Catch.” I started to heave the ball to him.

  “Time out! Time out!” he shouted. “I’ve got a nosebleed!” He went running to the locker room for tissues.
/>   “Who’s next?” I called. “Chipmunk! Line up!”

  Chipmunk is the shyest, most timid guy in school. He’s so bashful, he burps into his shirt pocket!

  “Chipmunk, you’re the new middle linebacker,” I said. “Tackle anyone who comes at you.”

  He gulped. “Tackle? Do I have to touch them?”

  “You go, dude! You’ll be an all-star!” I cried.

  He lowered his head and blushed bright red.

  Next, I made Billy the Brain a running back. Billy is the brainiest guy at the Rotten School. He’s so smart, he can read the funny pages in the newspaper in less than an hour! But he’s never played sports in his life.

  “Bernie,” he said, “did you know that baseball was invented by Tom Cruise in 1927? I saw it in a movie.”

  “Brilliant!” I said.

  “And did you know there are no flies in a fly ball?”

  “Brilliant! You’re our new running back!”

  “Football is all a matter of geometry,” Billy the Brain said. “Once I figure out the hypotenuse, I’ll have it made.”

  “You go, dude!” I shouted.

  And then I had my best, most awesome idea. I turned to Feenman and Crench. “See that new kid walking on the path? What’s his name? Farley Mopes? Bring him over here.”

  Feenman stared at me. “But, Bernie—he’s blind!”

  “Are you prejudiced?” I demanded.

  “No, but—”

  “Bring him over here. I like the looks of this dude.”

  He was a big kid, almost popping out of his school blazer. He had straight, brown hair falling over his face. Feenman brought him across the field to me.

  “How about playing football on Saturday?” I asked him. “I want you on my team.”

  Farley’s mouth dropped open. “But I’m blind!” he cried.

  “We’re all equal around here,” I said. I shoved the ball into his hands. “I believe in giving everyone a chance. You’re the new quarterback!”

  “No—wait!” He said. “I’m blind! Didn’t you hear me? I’m blind!”

  Feenman led him into the huddle.

  The team was set. I watched them stumble around the field.

  Nosebleed was bleeding on the bench. Billy the Brain was holding a calculator, trying to figure out the hypotenuse. Chipmunk was hiding behind the Power Juice bucket. Farley Mopes was facing the wrong way!

  “Sweet!” I cried. “Bernie, you’ve done it again! We can’t win on Saturday! We can’t!”

  Chapter 19

  THE ECCH PROBLEM

  I had one more big problem. The Ecch Problem.

  If Jennifer played, we still had a chance of winning. I had to find a way to keep her out of the game.

  I met her Friday afternoon at the Fitness Center. She was on her back, lifting 300-pound weights—with one hand!

  “Sweet Cakes!” she cried when she saw me.

  Everyone in the gym turned to stare at us.

  “Do you have to call me that?” I whispered. “Please don’t call me that.”

  “It’s just a cute nickname,” she said. “You don’t really think it’s too icky-poo, do you?”

  Icky-poo?

  She grabbed my blazer sleeve and used it to wipe all the sweat off her face and neck. Then she pulled herself up from the weight machine. “Bernie, did you come to discuss plans for the game here tomorrow?”

  “Kinda,” I said. “Coach Bunz was talking to me,” I lied. “He needs a new bench captain for tomorrow. I told him you’d be perfect.”

  She squinted at me with her brown eye. “Bench captain? Me?”

  “You’ve worked hard. You’ve earned it,” I said. I shook her hand. “Congratulations, Jennifer. Only your third game, and you’ve made captain!”

  “But—” Now she squinted at me with her blue eye. “Does that mean I stay on the bench?”

  “Of course,” I said. “You must be so proud! You’re the captain. It’s awesome! You control everything! Who sits, who stands, who gets a towel…all up to you!”

  She squinted at me with both eyes. “Hmmm…”

  I pulled out my cell phone. “Here. Use this to call your parents and tell them the big news. Their daughter is a captain!”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she said. “The team needs me too much.”

  I swallowed. “The team needs you on the bench!” I insisted. “Someone has to guard the Power Juice and the paper cups!”

  “Sorry, Bernie. It’s a real honor, but I have to turn it down. I owe it to the team to play.”

  Strike one. That try didn’t work. Now the sweat was pouring down my forehead. I had only one more idea. It had to work.

  “Okay, okay,” I said. “Forget the bench captain thing. I’ll tell you the truth. I’m worried about your hands.”

  She gasped. “My hands? What about my hands?” She held them up. They were as big as boxing gloves!

  “Look at them,” I said. “Swollen from playing too many football games. I’m worried about my sweaters, Jen. If anything happens to your precious hands during the game, you won’t be able to knit my ten sweaters. And…and…I’ll be crushed.”

  “Oh, Bernie!” she cried. She wrapped me in a hug. I heard at least forty ribs crack.

  “You’re right!” she said. “I had no clue the sweaters were so important to you. I can’t let anything happen to my knitting hands. I’ll do as you say. I’ll stay on the bench this week!”

  Success! I let out a long sigh. “Thank you! Thank you!” I cried.

  She grabbed my hand and began planting smoochy kisses on it, first one side, then the other.

  I didn’t care. The game was in the bag. No way we’d win now!

  Chapter 20

  DOOMED

  Saturday afternoon. A cloudy, gray day. But I felt sunny inside. I was watching my team—the Fighting Apples—get pushed over by the Pushovers.

  Yes, we were losing big-time. Could I keep the grin off my face? It wasn’t easy.

  Our new team was special! I watched Nosebleed drop an easy pass because he had a Kleenex pressed to his nose. Billy the Brain kept checking his laptop—trying to get running directions on MapQuest. Chipmunk had his hands tucked in his armpits—too shy to tackle anyone.

  And Farley Mopes…Farley was the star! He kept heaving passes a mile in the air, tossing them into Pooper’s Pond, into the trees, into the girls’ dorm.

  He was having an awesome time. I think Farley secretly dreamed of being a quarterback. And BernieB. was happy to make his dream come true.

  We were safe! We wouldn’t have to play the Bone-Breakers in the championship game!

  Yes, I was happy. We were forty points behind. But then I looked at my team.

  My guys were hunched over, sadly shaking their heads. Feenman and Crench stared at the scoreboard, whimpering. Sharonda and the other girls covered their faces. Jennifer had tears in her eyes.

  The cheerleaders sat on the grass. They didn’t bother to cheer. April-May was shaking her head, muttering to herself.

  Losers. We were going to be losers again. I started shaking my head, too. This wasn’t right. Shouldn’t we play our best game?

  I looked at my friends’ sad faces.

  I let them down, I realized.

  They all want to win. They all expected to win this easy game. And I let them down. I made all my friends unhappy.

  My heart sank to my feet. Bernie, you can’t be so selfish, I told myself. Bernie, these are your friends. They’re counting on you.

  What’s a few broken bones next week?

  What’s a few broken bones when your friends’ happiness is at stake?

  I jumped to my feet and pulled on my helmet. “Feenman! Crench! Jennifer! Let’s go!” I shouted. “Let’s show these clowns how to play football!”

  We trotted onto the field. And The Attack of the Ecch began.

  For the next half hour, Jennifer Ecch stomped and danced and pranced and stampeded, clomped and tromped over the Pushovers. An
d made them look like pushovers.

  We finally reached the last play of the game. The score was tied 60 to 60. Only seconds left. Could we do it? Could we win the most important game of our lives?

  I heaved the ball up. It bounced off Jennifer’s helmet and sailed straight for—OH, NO!—Farley Mopes!

  “Catch it, Farley!” we all screamed. “Catch it!”

  Farley slowly raised his arms. He slowly opened his hands—and TOUCHDOWN!

  That had to go in the record books. First touchdown catch by a blind receiver!

  The crowd went nuts. The cheerleaders went nuts. And even Sherman Oaks went nuts. A thrill for everybody!

  Bernie B. never lets his friends down. But now the ugly truth rattled my brain. We were going to the championship game. The Bone-Breakers would be waiting for us.

  My knees were hurting already!

  I watched everyone celebrating on the field. I slunk away with my head down, my knees shaking.

  Didn’t anyone realize we were doomed?

  Chapter 21

  THE KNITTING NEEDLES FLY

  I worried the whole weekend.

  When Belzer brought me my breakfast on Monday morning, I could barely finish the three-egg omelet, four slices of jellied toast, hash browns, bacon and sausages, two doughnuts, a banana, and a corn muffin.

  “What’s wrong, Big B?” Belzer asked.

  “I’m worried,” I told him. “I’m very worried.”

  That afternoon, I saw Coach Bunz running across the grass toward me. He came bouncing up to me. His stomach arrived first. A few seconds later, Coach Bunz caught up with it.

  “Don’t worry, sir,” I said, giving him a sharp, two-fingered salute. “I’ll whip the team into shape for the championship!”

  “Sorry, Bernie. You can’t do that,” Coach Bunz said.