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About Crash
Product Description Take a look behind the bully in this modern classic from Newbery medalist Jerry Spinelli that packs a punch. And don't miss the highly anticipated new novel, Dead Wednesday. Cocky seventh-grade super-jock Crash Coogan got his nickname the day he used his first football helmet to knock his cousin Bridget flat on her backside. And he has been running over people ever since, especially Penn Webb, the dweeby, vegetarian Quaker kid who lives down the block. Through the eyes of Crash, readers get a rare glimpse into the life of a bully in this unforgettable and beloved story about stereotypes and the surprises life can bring. "Readers will devour this humorous glimpse of what jocks are made of." -- School Library Journal, starred review Review "Without being preachy, Spinelli packs a powerful moral wallop, leaving it to the pitch-perfect narration to drive home his point" -- Publishers Weekly "Spinelli's writing style is great for kids in this age-group, fast-paced and funny." -- Booklist From the Inside Flap Now available in paperback, Newbery Medalist Jerry Spinelli's hilarious, poignant story of cocky seventh-grade superjock Crash Coogan. From the Back Cover Now available in paperback, Newbery Medalist Jerry Spinelli's hilarious, poignant story of cocky seventh-grade superjock Crash Coogan. About the Author JERRY SPINELLI is the author of many novels for young readers, including Dead Wednesday, The Warden's Daughter; Stargirl; Love, Stargirl; Milkweed; Crash; Wringer; and Maniac Magee, winner of the Newbery Medal; along with Knots in My Yo-Yo String, the autobiography of his childhood. A graduate of Gettysburg College, he lives in Pennsylvania with his wife, poet and author Eileen Spinelli. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. My real name is John. John Coogan. But everybody calls me Crash, even my parents. It started way back when I got my first football helmet for Christmas. I don't really remember this happening, but they say that when my uncle Herm's family came over to see our presents, as they were coming through the front door I got down into a four-point stance, growled, "Hut! Hut! Hut!" and charged ahead with my brand-new helmet. Seems I knocked my cousin Bridget clear back out the doorway and onto her butt into a foot of snow. They say she bawled bloody murder and refused to come into the house, so Uncle Herm finally had to drag his whole family away before they even had a chance to take their coats off. Like I said, personally I don't remember the whole thing, but looking back at what I do remember about myself, I'd have to say the story is probably true. As far as I can tell, I've always been crashing--into people, into things, you name it, with or without a helmet.
