Read Button Down for Free Online

razor off the lathered face.
    “I say,” said Mr. Jackson, “they’d better play him at the first game in the new stadium, because I aim to be at that one. October fifth. Monmouth.”
    “Not me,” said Mr. Leek. “I heard the place won’t be finished.”
    “Oh, it will be done,” said Mr. Jackson. “This is the most proudful moment in Hawkeye history. They’ll play the first game of the season at the old stadium on the twenty-eighth. Against Carroll. I’ll listen to that one on the radio. The very next week, over to the new stadium. They’re working day and night — around the clock, they say — to get it done. Horses, mules, hauling lumber and dirt. The field will be way down below ground level, and the seats will soar far above it. I intend to be there to see what the fuss is about.”
    “I heard thirty feet below the ground. Where do you suppose they put all that dirt?” said Ned. He climbed into the other chair. It was a two-chair shop and filled the needs of most men in Goodhue, even the likes of Mr. Millhouse, of Millhouse Bank and Trust, and Mayor Corbett, though it was rumored that Miss Wert, secretary to the mayor, trimmed the mayor’s neck from time to time.
    “It was a ravine,” said Mr. Jackson.
    “How do you get tickets? How much does it cost?”
    “You can stay and listen to the radio, Ned,” Mr. Leek interrupted. “But don’t just hang about. Pick up a broom and sweep while you’re here.”
    “Tickets?” said Mr. Jackson. “I got connections. My brother-in-law’s cousin’s wife’s brother is friendly with the assistant coach. I suppose regular people get them at the gate. There’s a knothole section for you scrappers. The cheap seats. The stadium is enormous. Going to seat more than forty-two thousand people.
    “As for Lester Ward,” he continued, “I suppose I’m with you on this, Leek. There’s some good players on that team.”
    “Lester’s good,” said Ned. He was feeling a little boiled at Mr. Leek for suggesting that Lester Ward wasn’t going to be the star of the Hawkeyes.
    “Good for Goodhue, maybe, but he’ll be playing with the best of the best now. Some boys can’t take the pressure, coming out of these little-town teams, facing the bigger, more experienced players,” said Mr. Leek.
    “Lester’s the best of the best,” said Ned. He banged the broom around a bit. Maybe he wouldn’t listen to the radio in here anymore. Maybe he’d find another place to hear the games.
    “I’m sure he appreciates your confidence in him,” said Mr. Leek. “You close to Lester, are you?”
    “Not exactly,” said Ned. “I follow along is all. Same as all the boys. He can catch anything.”
    Mr. Leek nodded but didn’t say more. This bothered Ned. He found more details to defend Lester. “He’s big, you know. And not just mashed-potato big — he’s got muscle. And he’s fast.”
    “Sure, sure thing,” said Mr. Leek.
    “Plus, he’s got strategy. Granddaddy Ike says that’s why they picked him. It’s like checkers.”
    Mr. Jackson lifted the hot cloth Mr. Leek had put across his clean-shaven face.
    “Ike says he knows strategy from checkers, does he? Ask him about the mustache cup I won off him last week. You want strategy, Ned. I’m your man.”
    “Granddaddy Ike wants to listen to the games,” Ned said. “Suppose I could bring him down here?”
    “Hawks versus Carroll,” said Mr. Leek, “two weeks from now?” He looked at Mr. Jackson to confirm. “Sure, come on in. I’ll save a spot for Ike. Could be a crowd. You kids might have to loiter on the sidewalk. But I’ll keep the volume up.”

Ned and Ralph and the boys took to their part of the field after school. Ned drew their two plays in the dirt and they tried them again, but since both the offense and the defense knew what was coming, they couldn’t fool each other.
    “This isn’t working,” said Ned. He flopped on the ground.
    “We need to play against a team that’s, well, none of