On the snap, I faked the inside handoff to Ty and went to my first read, their defensive end. Except I didn’t need to make a read: my quarry was in front of me. I just zeroed in on him and accelerated right through him as if he wasn’t even there. In football, they use the term ‘pancaked.’ It normally is attributed to an offensive lineman when he blocks a defensive player so well that the defensive player ends up flat on his back. The term comes from cooking a pancake and the moment when you flip it and hear that splat and sizzle as the wet side hits the skillet.
That is what happened to Mr. Smart Mouth. I hit him just right so that he went from trying to tackle me to flat on his back in the blink of an eye. I had been on the receiving end of a block like that, and it had knocked the breath out of me. When we hit, the crack of the pads cut through the sound of the cowbells. I stepped over their prone player and scanned the field for their linebacker. He had a good angle on me, so I found Jake and tossed him the football as I was tackled. Jake picked up another few yards before he was brought down.
“You’re next,” I growled as I got up.
“Eat shit, Dawson!”
I was disappointed to see their defensive end get up without too much problem. The next play I called the option again. This time I faked the handoff to Ty up the middle but followed him into the hole. My target was tied up with Ty, and they blocked the hole, so I lowered my shoulder and stuck it into their linebacker’s stomach. Both Ty and I landed on him. This time I’d achieved my goal of knocking the wind out of him. I didn’t stay around to gloat but was happy to see their trainer run out to check on him.
My goal wasn’t to actually hurt them but to send a message. With that bit of unpleasantness out of the way, I focused on playing football. On the next play, I passed to Wolf and knew it would be our night. If you were knowledgeable about the game, you saw a clinic on what to do. I took the snap and pulled the ball up and back near my back shoulder so I was ready to throw. I glided back and kept my feet moving. Cadillac would have been jealous I had stolen his smoothness in the pocket. I waited for Wolf to make his move, and then pointed my lead foot at him and planted my back foot so I had a good foundation. The ball was out of my hand in a flash, and I released it just beyond my front foot. The nice tight spiral was eye-level so Wolf wouldn’t have to look down to catch it. He pulled it in and never broke stride. Wolf was pushed out of bounds after a nice gain.
The football gods must have been smiling down on me. Wolf ran over their punter who was standing on the sideline as Wolf was pushed out of bounds. All six-five, two hundred and forty pounds flattened the much smaller player. I only wished I had thought of that myself.
I guess Coach Diamond saw that I was on tonight and cut me loose passing the ball. The measure of a player is whether he can make those around him better. I could do no wrong. Roc looked like Jerry Rice on my Madden NFL Ultimate Team game. I would just loft him a nice long pass, and the kid would turn on the afterburners and run under it. Coach Bud Mason was right: vertical passes downfield were a defense-killer. You might have the best defense in the world, but the long pass bypassed the teeth of the defense. It put you one-on-one with a defensive back, and if you won that play, you could win the game. Our version of shock and awe put up twenty-eight points in the second quarter to take a 31–0 lead into halftime.
I was allowed to play one more possession, and this time hit Ed on a post pattern to push the score to 38–0. Coach Hope had seen enough and pulled most of the starters at that point. He put in mostly JV players and our backups. The final score was 45–28.
◊◊◊
I’d taken my shower, and Halle and Stacy, my art friend, had me trapped in one of the small film rooms. They applied my makeup for my Halloween outfit. I’d thought I was just going as a biker guy with my new leather pants and jacket. They had other plans. There was a knock at the door.
“David, you’ve been summoned to speak to the media,” Alan said through the door.
“Tell them he’ll be there in a minute,” Halle called back.
Stacy handed me a mirror. I had to admit, I looked scary. They had put on a foundation that made my skin look gray. Stacy had put blood-red eyeliner and lipstick on me. She painted in a red teardrop that made it look like blood had dripped out of my eye, and there was a smear of blood on the side of my mouth. They had spiked my hair, and Halle had sprayed in silver highlights. The capper was when they pulled out a football helmet with the St. Joe logo on the side and a rubber head in it. If you set it on a table, you could turn on a switch and the eyes would glow. I drew the line when they wanted to put red contacts in my eyes. I was only willing to do so much.
When I left the room, there was a line of football players waiting to be made up. I smiled when I saw Alan was a vampire and Jim was in a toga. Alan took Jim and me into the room where the press conference was happening. The St. Joe coach seemed to be about finished. I held up the helmet with the head in it, and he began to laugh, which drew everyone’s attention to me. I wasn’t an attention hound, mind you. I strode up to the table where their coach was seated and plopped the helmet down.
“I think one of your players left this on the field,” I said as the eyes glowed.
Even the most jaded reporter smiled at my antics. They sobered up when Tracy took charge of the news conference and warned me to be on my best behavior. Jeff Delahey was allowed to ask the first question.
“Now that your troubles seem to have been cleared up, how has it affected your recruiting?”
I sighed. This was my new reality, and I’d better suck it up and face it. Even though I’d not been charged, it would follow me around.
“I’m glad you asked that, and I’m sure everyone wants to know the status of the case. The state’s attorney and police found no evidence to support what was leaked to the media. I want to thank Jeff and his newspaper for providing pictures that proved that the last time I was with the young woman she was perfectly fine. From that point on, until I was questioned by the police on Monday, I had witnesses that placed me at my farm, doing a photo shoot with Range Sports, or working with a church group. Every bit of what I just said was verified by the state’s attorney’s office in their recent press conference, where they announced to the press that no charges would be brought against me.
“Tomorrow I’ll meet with the young woman and her family, and we’ll try to resolve my responsibility regarding the pregnancy. If it is my child, I’ll do everything I can to support him or her. I take that obligation seriously.
“Now to answer your question regarding recruiting. The schools that know me were all very supportive. Others were on the fence, and then a handful had a no-tolerance policy concerning domestic abuse, even when it’s not verified and even when no charges have been brought. I had planned to visit one of those schools this weekend, but they wouldn’t take the chance that the allegations might be true,” I said.
“Which school were you going to visit?” Jeff asked.
“I don’t think it would be right to point fingers. I feel that at least you should be given the presumption of innocence until proven guilty.”
Of course, all they would have to do was go onto one of my social media accounts and see my planned visits.
“But isn’t it true that over 95 percent of rape charges are found to be true? Shouldn’t a university protect itself?” Jeff asked.