Sometimes, when it’s goal and seconds to go, a bruised and battered eleven who’ve been playing by the coach’s charts have got to throw away every play — and gamble for paydirt on the one called...
He knew he had one more race left in him; he was good for one more crack at the Indianapolis classic. But he needed a car. To get one, he had to amuse Bander son — who thought death was...
No one remembered Singer Washburn now; the years had chugged by, and the old grey train had carried him far past the time when he’d be champ, past the time when he’d be retiring. Then he saw this kid Joe, with a mean streak in him, and knew that...