Pretty Maids A 11 in a Row 249 shape up tonight? What about Ponce? Would they be able to do anything at all? Somewhat glumly, he hoped so. At the moment he didn’t feel too wonderful, but as soon as he got out there, with them, on the practice field, he would start picking up, he was pretty sure. The old Tiger of old would come out again, as he always did, face to face with the team. Even under the circumstances. The sad circumstances. ... He loved the game. He loved his football squad, as he had all of them, all his squads, back to the days he had first taken over, after the demise of that great old coach, the one and only Hink Henderson, that terrific old guy from whom Tiger had learned plenty. Wouldn’t old Hink be proud of his record! He hadn’t done too badly himself, of course—but, since Tiger—Year after year, undefeated! One or two ties, only. Incredible. Tiger, feeling pretty good, and proud, of his efforts, knew it was that. And who didn’t? The material. What material! Tiger thanked God for it. He thought of Mrs. Mortlake. How much patience was the world made of? There was a fabulous piece of material if ever there was one. What a specimen. What thighs. Would his eyes ever alight on those thighs? Would they? It was absolutely essential to be patient though. It was the essence of life in the adult world, without a doubt. For where would all movement, perpendicular or otherwise, find itself without it? Could it find itself? The forces of inertia, ever beckoning life back to its primal, dead form, were formidable. Incredible. What could surmount them—if only, of course, and tragically enough, for the moment, temporarily? Life was a temporary, temporary affair. . . . When had he and Looby Loo last danced? Tiger suddenly felt like taking that sweetheart, that one and only wife of his, that honey bun, out somewhere nice and romantic, dancing. The Spinning Wheel? He would check into that. Definitely. The loving honey, how had he been lucky enough to land such a bun? He longed to hold her close and sway across the dance floor, dreamily, with her. What a partner. His life partner. He was utterly for her. And she for him. As far as he knew. She too was a Sawyersville girl. The wonderful letters he used to get from her in Korea. Now the boys were having a time in Vietnam. That was just about the dirtiest war ever fought anywhere, and Tiger, for one, was glad he wasn’t there.
What would it do to all those basically decent kids shipped over there? Sons of mothers, one and all, and what was happening to them? When they got back, what kind of members of society would they be? After that? What would human life mean to them? In that dirtiest of dirty wars, it meant nothing at all. Fry them one and all, that was their motto, he knew. What a dirty war, Tiger sighed. What was he supposed to tell the kids? In Civics class, where it inevitably came up from time to time, a thorny side issue which somehow always managed to get in, he let them slug it out, and it certainly was surprising to hear some of the remarks, those kids weren’t dumb at all. Not just the bright ones, like Ponce and Rochelle, but on down the line. They realized, most of them anyway, what a dirty show it was. Again, within, Tiger sighed. The messes Uncle could get into. Cornpone, take a walk, will you? He thought of scrimmage. He and Ponce would have to do some fast reshuffling and rethinking, in view of Jim’s absence. What would happen? What kind of shape would the team be in? He reached his office. He opened the door. He was surprised to find Yvonne Mellish inside, waiting for him. . . .
Ponce walked down the stairs toward the basement of the school and the locker rooms. He walked with Dink Reagan. He felt a hundred percent better since having told Tiger all. He wondered if he had contacted Surcher yet. With some luck, if he had, Jim might even be around tonight. He and Dink had talked about Jim of course. Dink was really worried, though Ponce couldn’t tell him what was going on.
“Gonna be rough without him, Ponce—w Dink said.
“We’ll try.”
“Using the same plays? What should I call?”
“Wait until Scrimmage tonight—you’ll be surprised—”
“Yeh?”
T’U bet Tiger already has a few new ones worked out—”
“I hope so—” Dink said, turning his curly head to say hi to some majorettes going out to the field for a practice session too. “You have any ideas, Ponce?”
The lad grinned, “Maybe.”
“Not Bob Fritko! You’re not thinking of sticking him in!
Are you, Ponce?”
“Bob?” His grin widened, where did Dink get crazy ideas like that from he wondered, ”1 don’t think so.”
“Hope not!”
“He’s coming along though, Dink—no kidding—” Ponce said, “I think he’s better off at tackle though—”
“He’s great there—”
They walked along the basement hall now toward the locker rooms. A few more majorettes walked by, smiling broadly.
“Hi, Dink!”
“Hi!”
They greeted Ponce also.
“What about T-Twenty-one Buck Decoy Left And Pass Right On Four, Ponce?” Dink said, “How we gonna work it?”
Again Ponce grinned. He had in fact thought of it. If Jim in fact didn’t turn up, he would certainly ask Tiger to try it
“Wait till Scrimmage,” Ponce said.
“Give me a rough idea, Ponce—it beats heck out of me —no kidding—”
“Well—I’ll tell you what—” the lad said coyly. “Think of the number three and subtract ten—” He clamped up, and Dink stared . . . though he wasn’t worried. He was sure Ponce and Tiger could be counted on to pull them out of anything. Even this one. He would do his best, and cooperate with them, one hundred percent. He always did. He wanted to finish up his high-school career in a blaze of glory—and keep that fantastic Sawyersville winning streak soaring. In spite of everything, he felt strong, and good, he couldn’t wait to get out there. He couldn’t wait to see what Ponce and Tiger had cooked up. They could do it. He knew it. . . .
“Well, hi—” Tiger said to Yvonne, closing the door behind him. Certainly he was surprised, but he didn’t show it. He grinned at her, she was sitting on the chair near the desk, just waiting for him. She smiled at him and said hi, though it seemed to Tiger she wasn’t her usual glowing self tonight, or very late afternoon. Actually. Her usually warm and sparkling brown eyes seemed a little dull, maybe more than just a little. Was it her time? Tiger usually remembered. No, it wasn’t. He wasn’t unhappy to see her of course, though the visit was totally unscheduled, and unexpected. However, he was curious, and possibly even the slightest bit rankled, nothing at all, barely registering. How much time could he spare? At this time of year, there wasn't all that much time between the end of the school day and practice. The team was waiting for him. He took a quick look at his watch. Just may be. . . . She had the loveliest brown hair. There was hair. She wore a skirt and a sweater. And who could look nicer in a sweater? Would she be taking over as Captain of the Cheerleaders? Today? Is that what she had come to tell him? He walked up to her. He put a hand on her.