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Authors: Peter Guy George

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BOOK: Touchdown Tony Crowne and the Mystery of the Missing Cheerleader
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Curly, alerted by Ash’s “grr” and foot stomping, snapped his head up to scout for any potential danger. He sniffed the air twice for anything out of the ordinary. Sensing nothing he yawned, panted and laid his head down on his paws. He kept an alert eye open in case his human pack needed him.

Judd, remembering his manners once more, walked a few paces up to the girls, stuck out his hand, grinned and said, “Hello toadies, my name is Judd Judson. I’m pleased ta meet—”

Tony will never forget the look of utter disgust he saw on those three faces that afternoon. Every time he remembers the expression on their faces he busts out laughing.

Felicity gasped and said, “How dare you call me a toady! Who do you think you are!”

“Whoa, no, I meant ladies!” Judd backed up, his eyes wide and his arms waving defensively in front of him as Felicity, Mel and Josie unleashed a barrage of accusations toward him.

“I don’t believe you for a second!” Felicity growled and pointed her index finger at him in an act of righteous indignation.

“We don’t believe you for a second!” Mel and Josie shouted. They pointed their index fingers in his direction in a similar, but less convincing act of righteous indignation.

“But it’s true, it’s true, I meant to say toadies all along,” a confused Judd yelled back. “No wait—ladies, I meant ladies.”

“Aha!” Felicity said as she clenched her fist and raised it to the sky.

“Aha!” Mel and Josie chorused and raised their fists to the sky.

At this point, Tony and Ash are doubled over, hands on their knees and laughing hysterically at the scene being played out in front of them.

“My…my face hurts, Tony! But I can’t stop laughing.” In an effort to stop, Ash closes her eyes for a second, inhales deeply and uses all of her willpower to become as still as possible, but is still visibly shaking a little. Tony stops laughing as well, takes a deep breath, holds it for a minute, exhales unevenly, peeks at Ash and at the same time they point at each other and holler, “Aha!” Their legs rubbery, they fall into each other’s arms and laugh uncontrollably.

Felicity was not amused. “Crowne! Richardson! Stop it!” Felicity had an annoying habit of calling people by their last names, as if their parents forgot to include a first name on their birth certificate. She even calls Miss Dingledine by her last name, but not within earshot.

Mel and Josie, playing their toady role well, also yelled in stereo, “Crowne! Richardson! Stop it!”

Judd, meanwhile, in an effort to protect himself from the gang of three, dropped to the ground and crawled over to Curly. Judd positioned himself behind Curly and hoped against hope his dog camouflage would shield him from the girl’s wrath. Taking advantage of the proximity of Judd’s now sweat-drenched face, Curly leaned back and began licking him. “No, Curly, not now,” Judd whispered, “You’ll draw attention to me.”

Turning back to where Judd used to be standing, Felicity, still pointing her finger, scolded, “And as for you Judson—huh? Where did you go? Oh, there you are. Hiding behind a dog are you? How sad!”

“Hiding behind a dog are you? How sad!” Mel and Josie chimed in like a couple of cartoon chipmunks.

With her bony finger of indignation waving in the air, Felicity committed the mistake of taking a step towards the not-so-camouflaged Judd. Curly, sensing a physical attack, sprang up from his crouch, bared his teeth and emitted a warning, “Gr-r-r” to Felicity.

Tony, suddenly serious, called out a “Hey!” to Curly, got his attention and signaled him to stop his aggression. Curly relaxed his body, plopped back onto the ground in front of Judd and went back to happily licking Judd’s face.

Felicity pivoted toward Tony and said, “I’m warning you Crowne. One of these days that dog is gonna get you in trouble.”

“Yeah, that dog is gonna get you in trouble, Crowne. Nyah, nyah, nyah!”

“Don’t you have to be somewhere?” Ash asked in an exasperated voice.

Felicity swung her head around to Ash, looking at her in an exaggerated up and down motion as if she was checking out Ash’s outfit, clicked her tongue and said, “Yeah,
we
have to be somewhere. Obviously,
you
don’t.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“All I’m saying is that you don’t have to bother trying out for the cheerleading squad. I’ve got a pretty good hunch one of us will be picked and it won’t be you. So you can just pack it in and stay home, Richardson!”

“So you can just pack it in and stay home, Richardson!” The toadies sang with a nasal quality.

All three girls, as if they had choreographed it, snapped their fingers, turned sharply on their heels and sashayed down the sidewalk toward the tryouts, giggling all the way.

Stomping her foot on the ground and clenching her fists, Ash said, “Oh, I could just strangle those icky girls, ugh!”

“Aw, don’t let those girls get under your skin. You’re much better than Felicity.” Tony said.

“I know, I know. I’m not too worried about Felicity. She can’t chew gum and walk at the same time. Still, I wonder what she meant by having a hunch? Well, I don’t know. I better get going to the tryouts.”

“Do you wanna take Curly with you?”

Ash laughed, pointed her finger past Tony and said, “Um, no-o-o. I’d hate to wake the two sleeping beauties behind you! See ya later, Tony.”

Tony waved at Ash with a questioning look, turned around and saw Curly and Judd lying on their backs with their arms and legs in the air snoozing soundly.

Chapter 7- The Tiny Tirade

 

 

“Okay everybody, gather ‘round!” Coach Tiny barked in his no-nonsense manner. He made a few short tweets on his ever-present lanyard whistle and let it drop onto his massive chest. Normally, he would keep the whistle perched in his mouth like an expensive cigar and yell around it, but he had a special motivational moment to share with his team.

The players enveloped Coach Tiny in the middle of the Dersee High School practice field, took off their helmets and dropped to one knee. The practice field was adjacent to the official football field which was being used for the cheerleader tryouts. Tony positioned himself in a way in which he could watch Coach Tiny and also keep an eye out for how Ash was doing. The public address system was being used as well since the tryouts were very well attended by parents and relatives.

Coach Tiny, in his college days, majored in Business, but minored in Theater and loved having the stage all to himself. With his head down, his arms clasped behind his back, he paced back and forth in front of his players; seemingly deep in thought and seemingly boiling mad.

He stopped once, glowered at each player, starting pacing again, stopped, removed his Dersee Bobcat ball cap, wiped the glistening sweat off of his brow with his sleeve, exhaled loudly, paced again, glowered, stopped and held a newspaper high in the air.

“Do any of you know what this is?” he growled.

One of the players answered, “It’s the Dersee Herald, Coach.”

“That’s right. It’s the Dersee Herald. As a matter of fact, it’s tomorrow’s Dersee Herald. I have a friend who works there and he got it for me.” Coach Tiny’s voice continued to become angrier and angrier. “This, boys, is our hometown newspaper.” With extra emphasis, Coach Tiny bellowed, “OUR HOMETOWN NEWSPAPER!”

Tony couldn’t help but notice that when the Coach roared his last sentence, many, if not all, of the people in the bleachers for the cheerleader tryouts stood up and looked over at the team. When they saw it was Coach Tiny creating the ruckus, most of them smiled and turned back around, but a few of the more vocal ones yelled their best supporting cheers, “Go get’em, coach!”

“Go ‘Cats, whip them Lions!”

“You tell’em, Tiny!”

Not wanting to spoil his moment, Coach Tiny did not respond in any way to the cheers, if anything, it made him angrier and his face redder. He brought his voice back down to a whisper, “I’m going to read you an article by our hometown sports writer, a Mr. Hunter Dunwoody.”

Tisha Brady’s voice announced over the loudspeaker, “Ladies and gentlemen, we will have the results for this year’s cheerleading squad in a few minutes. Let me just say that picking six cheerleaders out of over thirty candidates is not an easy chore for me and the other judges. All of the ladies tonight cheered wonderfully.” A smattering of applause rose from the bleacher area.

Coach Tiny was momentarily perturbed by the announcement, but gathered his wits about him and read the article out loud. “This is the headline: ‘
Big Game For The Bobcats This Weekend
’, by Hunter Dunwoody.” He lifted his head up to make sure all the players were engaged and continued, “In a scheduling quirk, the first game of the season could very well be the most important game of the season. The two strongest teams in the league, the Dersee Bobcats and the Lakeside Lions meet this weekend in a rematch of last year’s championship game, won by the Bobcats 14-13 on a last-second defensive goal-line stand. Both teams return most of the starters who contributed to their standout seasons, including—”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Tisha Brady’s voice echoed from the p.a. system, “Please bear with us. The voting for the sixth member of the squad has resulted in a tie between Felicity Whittaker and Ashley Richardson. We will have those two cheerleaders perform one more cheer and will be evaluated again. Thank you for your patience.”

Tony was stunned by the announcement. How could there be a tie? Ash was far better than Felicity in every facet of cheerleading.

Coach Tiny shook his head, looked up to the heavens with a smile and proclaimed in a steady, almost happy voice, “You know, I really like cheerleaders; I think they do a marvelous job, I really do. What would the atmosphere of a football game be without them? I just adore them, I really do.” Then his face got all snarly and he thundered, “BUT NOT RIGHT NOW!” He whirled, shook his meaty fist toward the Dersee football field, took a few steps in that direction as if he was going to pancake a defensive lineman, thought better about it, stopped and strode back to his players and opened the newspaper again.

“Now where was I? Okay, the first part of that story is the usual sports mumbo-jumbo, but towards the end of the article is what chafes me to no end. TO NO END!” He peered over the top of the newspaper, glared at his players and snapped, “AND IT BETTER CHAFE YOU!”

“This Hunter Dunwoody goes on to write, ‘...but the edge should go to the Lions this time. Last year the Lions were clearly the better team, however, untimely turnovers, bad officiating and Nick Miller’s lucky shoestring tackle in the waning seconds of the championship game did them in. This year will be a different story. Recently, I attended a Lion’s practice and their team looks to be improved in every area. The Bobcats, while still a formidable opponent, unfortunately are not as improved as the Lions. My prediction for this week’s game: Lions 35 Bobcats 7.’”

The players, shocked, turned toward one another and muttered objections back and forth. “We’re better than that.”

“He don’t know what he’s talkin’ about.”

“Lucky?”

“He’s a dope.”

A Dersee Bobcats ball cap landed on the grass in front of the players with a “THWAP!”A second later, a size 14 coach’s shoe stomps onto the cap and plows it into the ground. “THIS IS WHAT I THINK OF THAT PREDICTION!” Coach Tiny’s face is as red as lava spewing from an active volcano, “Seven points? SEVEN LOUSY POINTS is all we’re gonna score? And we’re gonna give up THIRTY FIVE POINTS?”

Now he’s really livid, pacing back and forth, he throws his arms up and roars, “Are we gonna take this lyin’ down, boys?”

The players stand up, hold their helmets above their heads, jump up and down and yell, “No, sir!”

“Are we gonna score more than seven lousy points?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Are we gonna give up thirty five points?”

“No, sir!”

“Are we gonna beat the Lions?”

“Yes, sir!”

He cupped his hand to his ear, “What?”

“Yes, sir!”

“I CAN’T HEAR YOU!”

“YES, SIR! YES, SIR! YES, SIR!”

Coach Tiny, satisfied with his performance and with his team’s response shouts, “Okay, Let’s have a great practice! Nick and Tony, lead the warm-up drills!” As the players line up for their drills, Coach Tiny chuckles to himself, turns to Coach Buck and whispers, “You know, that reporter for the Herald is in for a big surprise. Judd wasn’t on the team yet when he dropped by that first practice. We are a heck of a better team with Judd in the lineup.”

“The Lions are gonna be mighty surprised too,” Coach Buck mused as he chomped on his wad of bubble gum. Squinting his eyes, he let out a low whistle and added, “That boy is a player!”

Snapping his chinstrap to his helmet, Tony hears in the distance a somewhat subdued Tisha Brady announce, “Ladies and gentlemen, the sixth cheerleader is Ashley Richardson, and, um, thank you all for coming out and supporting your cheerleader squad, um, good night.” Tony smiles knowing that everything in the world is all right.

Chapter 8- The Threat

 

 

“Tony! Tony!” Judd Judson shouted as he ran down the crowded Dersee Elementary hallway. The Friday 3:55 pm bell had rung, signaling the end of the school week and the students were anxiously filing out of their last class, heading for home and looking forward to the big football game on Saturday.

BOOK: Touchdown Tony Crowne and the Mystery of the Missing Cheerleader
5.65Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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