The stadium held just under 35,000 people. When we came out for the kickoff, the place was almost half full. This was by far the largest number of people to attend one of our games. You could see our team tighten up. Kevin and I were designated team captains. We were the only two starters who played last week, so the team decided we would be captains for the rest of the year.
We went out to the center of the field for the coin toss. The referee was a small wiry guy who smelled of beer. Kevin and I looked at each other and wondered if he had camped out at the beer tent before the game. His pregame instructions were interesting.
“I want a clean game. We know all the shit you’ve pulled and we’ll be watching for it.”
He was looking at Kevin and me as he said it.
“Now call the flip in the air.”
“Heads,” Kevin said.
“Shit. Heads,” the referee said.
Did he just slur his words?
“We will defer to the second half,” Kevin said.
Kevin and I talked to Coach Lambert about what we suspected. He said he’d take care of it. He went to the line judge, and we got an unsportsmanlike conduct penalty and a bench warning before we even kicked off. Jackson started with great field position at their 42 yard line. On the first play from scrimmage, the Jackson quarterback threw a terrible pass that Magic stepped in front of and picked off. We were celebrating as the defense came off the field when we saw a flag in the Jackson backfield, forty yards from the play.
“Pass interference on the defense. Fifteen-yard penalty, automatic first down.”
Our defensive coach took strong exception to the call. Coach Lambert got our sideline back in order when the referee threw another flag. This one was unsportsmanlike conduct after the play and another fifteen yards.
Suddenly they were on our 28 yard line. The three penalties totaled forty-five yards, and we were only two plays into the game.
The next play Jackson ran a power sweep that netted them eight yards. We held them to no gain on a power dive play. Third down they ran the same play with the same result. We dodged a bullet if they only got a field goal out of that beginning. There was a flag on the play.
“Offside, defense, five yard penalty, first down.”
That was when the first ejection occurred. Our defensive coach was hit with his second unsportsmanlike conduct penalty and had to hit the showers. The next play, Jackson punched into the end zone for a 7–0 lead. Our first three plays from scrimmage scored. All three were called back. Coach Lambert was ejected.
Coach Lambert pulled me aside as he left the field.
“David, make sure none of the players get kicked out. Let the coaches take the heat. If we lose them all, you and Kevin will have to take over. Win this damn game!”
“Coach, I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“Okay, I have to go. I’m calling the High School Association and filing a complaint. I’m sure they won’t do anything to help us, so just find a way to win.”
By the end of the first quarter, we were down 21–0 and only Coach Engels was left on our sideline.
It got so bad that the Jackson head coach talked to the referee and got an unsportsmanlike conduct penalty. I limped around because their defense knew that they could hit me late with no calls. I’d been hit late six times. The defense was on the field as I went to the trainers. Jill checked my thigh where I had a helmet buried in it on the last play.
“Do you have any Epsom salts?” I asked.
“I think we brought some. Why do you ask?”
“Our referee is looking a little dehydrated. I hear salts are needed.”
She thought about it for a moment and grinned. She went and got the container of Epsom salts and treated a squirt bottle of Gatorade. We would help our troublesome referee.
While I got some pain relief, Jackson managed a field goal to make the score 24–0. We downed the ball in the end zone to start at the 20 yard line. The referee was sweating like a pig. I acted as if I was confused about what play to call, and when the play clock got to five seconds, I called timeout. Our team manager sprinted to the referee before the Jackson side could get him a drink. He took the bottle and almost downed the full thing. I was a little worried that we may have given him too much.
Now it was just a waiting game. I slowed our play down to minimize the damage the referee could do. We ran simple dive plays. We actually got the first down. Then the Epsom salts kicked in. Normally you think of Epsom salts for a footbath, but if you read the box, it can be taken as a laxative. I knew about its effectiveness because I had a big brother who tested it on me. Let me tell you, the effect is spectacular and sudden. As we lined up we heard, “Oh no!” The referee literally shit his pants.
Have you ever seen six Mentos breath mints put into two liters of Coke? The result is the Coke bottle turns into a rocket. I looked up in time to see the first release as he cramped up and bent over. The back of his pants filled up as if he was trying to smuggle a head of lettuce out of the Quickie Mart. There was a noticeable spray, which created a tiny brown cloud. He ran for the locker room, dislodging chunks as they fell out of his pant legs. He made it another thirty yards when he bent over again and repeated the process.
Over on our sideline, Jill was laughing so hard she fell on the ground and was in a fetal position. It took a few minutes before everyone figured out what was going on. I went over to the line judge.
“Hell no, I’m not playing until you get the field cleaned up.”
While the remaining officials gathered together to figure out what to do, I went over to the Jackson sideline and shook hands with their coach.
“Sir, David Dawson.”
“Coach Thomas. What can I do for you, David?”
He shook his head. Everyone on his sideline was laughing at what they’d seen.
“Sir, now that we’ve lost our referee, do you think we can have a clean game from here on out? I’d hate to see this game get any more out of hand than it already has.”
“I think you’re right. Let me put an end to this. I certainly don’t want to win this way.”
He went out to talk to the remaining officials, and they called Coach Engels over. Everyone seemed to come to a decision and shook hands. The grounds crew hosed off the problem areas, and we were ready to play ball. We had less than three minutes in the first half.
I was able to drive us to the 12 yard line before we were stopped. We kicked a field goal make it 24–3. When we got to the locker room, I saw a bunch of dejected guys. Thank God for Kevin. He lit into them.
“Alright, everyone calm down. Take a deep breath and relax. We’ve practiced since August. All we have to do is relax and do what we do best. You know your assignments. We just need to do our stuff. Our stuff is better than their stuff and they know it. David is going to run our passing game, and run our running game. The offense is going to take care of the score. Our defense is going to run our stuff. We’re going to keep them from scoring any more touchdowns,” Kevin said. He now had everyone’s attention.
“Each of you knows your job. Keep fighting, keep after it and win. I won’t lie to you and tell you this’ll be easy, but we are the better team. We’ve worked too hard, gotten up early to run too many days, spent countless hours preparing for this moment. I have faith that Coach Engels is going to have the game of his life. I have faith that every one of you can shine in the second half. We will not lose this game. We are going to State. Who’s with me?”
We came out at the half determined to win. We returned the kickoff and only made to the 15 yard line. Jackson wouldn’t just lie down. We had to fight for every yard we got, but put together a fifteen-play, eighty-five yard drive that put our first touchdown on the board. We were now down 24–10.