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leap with joy, saw Tomturn toward him, his fists held high as he whooped it up.
    Michael lifted his arms, too, as he joined in with the cry. He felt a thrill, the exhilaration of the play’s success.
    Then, suddenly, he was on the field! He was in Tom’s shoes, in Tom’s uniform! He was in the game!
    He looked toward the sideline. There sat Tom in the chair, except that Tom was dressed in Michael’s clothes.
    They got in a huddle. Michael put his hands on his knees as he glanced quickly at the faces around him. The fear still lurked
     that one of the players might sense something was different, but he had to risk it. He would cope with that problem when,
     and if, it came.
    “Wild dog! On two!” said Michael, hoping that a pass play would surprise the Moths.
    The Eagles broke out of the huddle, assembled at the line of scrimmage.
    “Four! Seven! Hip! Hip! Hip!” Michael barked.
    He took the snap, faded back, glanced first toward the right, then the left. The ends were doing a good job of blocking their
     men. And Vince looked free as he ran down toward the sideline, moving into Moth territory. He looked back and Michael whipped
     the pass to him, throwing the ball ahead of Vince so that he would catch it on the run.
    The play worked for eight yards.
    Another quick pass over the line of scrimmage netted four yards and a first down.
    This time, as a change of pace, Michael called for a running play. But Angie fumbled the ball as Michael handed it off to
     him. The ball bounced back to the Eagles’ forty-nine-yardline, where Michael pounced on it like a cat.
    Second and eighteen.
    “That was a lousy handoff, Tom,” said Vince disgustedly.
    Michael blushed. “Sorry, Vince.”
    “Why don’t we try a long pass, Tom?” said Bob in the huddle.
    “Yeah,” agreed Stan. “Way out in the left flat. I can run the pants off that Steiner guy.”
    “Good idea,” said Jim. “Give me the hand-off and I’ll heave it out to him.”
    “Hold it,” said Michael. “We’re wasting time. They’ll expect a pass. We have to try something different. A surprise. Seventeen
     sprint-out pass. If I can’t work it, I’ll run it.”
    Nobody contradicted him. They broke out of the huddle.
    He called signals. The ball was snapped. Michael started to fade back, then ran to theright, parallel with the line of scrimmage, while he looked for his receiver, Stan Bates. Stan seemed to be free, so Michael
     started to lift the ball to his shoulders to attempt the pass.
    Suddenly he saw a Moth sprinting hard toward Stan, and Michael knew that an attempted pass might be disastrous.
    He pulled the ball against his side and ran. He ran as hard as he could, bolting around right end as Jim Berry threw a fine
     block on the Moth end.
    Up the field, Stan blocked the Moth safety man, clearing the field for Michael, who went all the way.
    A kick between the uprights put the Eagles in the lead, 14-7.
    Vince slapped Michael happily on the back, then looked at him squarely in the eyes.
    “Can you believe it?” he said, grinning.“For a minute there, watching you run, I had a flash that it was Michael out here. Remember how fast he used to be? No one
     could catch him.” Vince cocked his head to one side. “Guess you guys are more alike than I thought, huh?”

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    M ichael’s heart flip-flopped. His face turned red, and he grinned back to hide his embarrassment— and his fear that Vince might
     get more nosy.
    “Nice kick, Vince,” was all he said, and he trotted back across the field, with the rest of the guys, for the next kickoff.
    The Moths were able to carry off only three plays, netting them enough yardage to get them to the Eagles’ thirty-eight, when
     the first half ended.
    As the team came walking tiredly off the field, Michael concentrated on his thought-energiesagain. He sensed that his thoughts and Tom’s were in direct communication. In seconds he and Tom were back to their normal
     selves again.
    Michael was very tired, almost to