The football team, on the other hand, was anything but. They were, in Theo’s estimation, unbelievably bad.The boys wanted to show off for him. They did have talent; they just didn’t know what to do with it. Conrad Freeland had to scream at the top of his lungs to be heard over the boys’ shouting matches. He used his whistle so often the kids pretty much ignored the sound. Practice was chaotic and deafening.Conrad finally got the first string to cooperate long enough to line up. They then began running back and forth across the beautifully manicured field like chickens with their heads cut off.Theo and Michelle stood next to the music teacher on the fifty-yard line watching. Beaming with pride, Conrad turned to Theo and asked, “What do you think of your boys?”Theo ignored the “your boys” reference — he wasn’t about to claim ownership of this motley crew — and said, “Why don’t you run some plays, and Michelle and I will sit in the stands and watch. It’s been a few years,”
