“Let’s not even start at what you have access to that the rest of us don’t,” Wolf said.
I think we all came to the same realization at the same time. I don’t know about Wolf or Tim, but I went from calm to a cold rage in an instant.
“That little shit. I’ll strangle him,” I said, looking up at the press box.
I heard the crowd roar and saw that Washington had just scored another touchdown to go up 29–7.
As I looked for Coach Hope, the gun for halftime fired, and the team ran to the locker room. I was so mad I took my time getting back. I waited until I saw Alan and the other coaches come trotting to join us from their seats in the press box. His eyes got big when he saw me, and he tried to run. I tackled him, then grabbed him by the arm and marched him into the locker room.
When we walked in, the locker room was silent. Then I heard Coach Mason and Coach Hope screaming at each other.
“I didn’t sign up for this crap. If you’re not going to play the obvious starters, I’ll go out and tell the press exactly what you’re up to. I bet you’re out of a job come Monday morning,” Coach Mason threatened.
“This is my team!” Coach Hope got out before I slammed the door open.
“Coach Mason, let me handle this,” I said.
He took one look at me and smiled.
“By all means. I think I softened him up for you,” Coach Mason said, then left the three of us alone.
“What …?” Coach Hope started, but I cut him off.
“Guess who Wolf and Tim got when they called your office to tell you about their plans to go to Mexico and ask for permission to go? Guess who told them that if there were a problem, he would call them back? And never did? Guess who gave me a tiny locker? Guess who hid my gear? They all have the same answer. Instead of talking to us, you trusted this little rat. I suppose you expect me to bail your ass out since you started this dumpster fire. If it weren’t for my teammates, I’d tell you to stick it.
“My question to you is, when are you going to get your head out of your ass and do something about Alan? I signed on to win State. I didn’t sign on for this bullshit, or to be your whipping boy whenever you have control issues. Until we all get on the same page, I may need to take a step back and reconsider my options. I won’t be a part of these kinds of head games, especially when you can’t seem to man up and come to talk to us if you have a problem. This could all have been resolved with the smallest bit of communication,” I said in an even, calculated voice.
Coach Hope looked at my dead-serious face and then at Alan. The dumbass wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“Dammit! Are you telling me that you’re the one who caused this mess?” Coach Hope asked Alan.
When Alan didn’t answer, Coach Hope turned to me.
“You’re all starting the second half. Let me deal with this, and I’ll be out in a moment.”
From what we could hear, my mom was no longer the scariest parent I knew. Coach Hope’s Marine Corps background made him loud and to the point. I looked around, and the whole team was smiling. I slowly came to realize that none of them liked Alan.
Then I saw Wyatt with my phone out. Our drama was being shown live on streaming video. Shit! I figured the situation couldn’t get any worse, so I decided to ignore it.
Coach Hope came out of the office and joined the team.
“I screwed up—big time. We’ll deal with that after the game. Right now, let’s spend our time talking about how we’ll get back into this thing,” he announced. Then he split us up into offense and defense so our coaches could talk to us.
◊◊◊
I wasn’t sure who I was madder at: Alan for his antics or Coach Hope for falling for them. Instead of tamping it down so I could focus on the game, I decided to use it. I felt that nervous feeling in my stomach and rushed to the bathroom, barely making it before throwing up. I turned around to find Wyatt filming it.
“You okay?” Wyatt asked, concerned.
“He’s more than okay. That just means he’s ready to play some football,” Ty said with a big smile. “I really want to beat these guys.”
“I’m going to need your help, but I’m ready to give it my best shot,” I said.
Coach Mason gathered the offense around.
“I wish we were either tied or ahead. In all my years, I can’t remember the last time I coached a game where we were down 29–7. I bet that Washington thinks we’re going to go pass-happy. We’re down three scores and a two-point conversion, so it’s not panic time. We may have to go to our two-minute offense, but I think we need to run the ball and make them respect that. I don’t want them in max-pass defense for the whole second half.
“What we can’t do is take our time. I want you to hustle every chance you get. On first downs, we’ll make substitutions to keep everyone fresh. If you see me holding up an orange card, I want to swap out the skill players.
“On clock stoppages, huddle up and catch your breath. I expect each of you to leave it all on the field,” he said and looked around. “Are there any questions?”
There were none, so I stepped over to Coach Rector and the defense.
“You ready to go?” Coach Rector asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“We’re making a change. I want to move you to defensive end and run a four-man front. We need to stop their run game, or this game is over,” he explained.
Coach Rector planned to pull Bryan and Brock Callahan and have them focus on offense. In their place would be Howard and Carl Lewis, two brothers who had moved in over the summer. They would join Dan Ball, Jim’s cousin, with me on the defensive line. Ray Quinn and Yuri would remain at outside linebacker with Tim in the middle. Nick Rake and Wayne Turk would be playing the corners, with Bert Nelson and Ed Pine as our safeties.
◊◊◊
We came out on the field, and everyone stood and cheered. I mean both Washington and Lincoln fans. Then I figured it out. They must have been watching Wyatt’s streaming video and knew that we were all playing the second half.
We kicked to Washington to start the second half. The ball rolled through the end zone, so they lined up on their 20 yard line. Gabe Verity came up to the line to take the snap and nodded to me to let me know he realized I was in the game.
As a defensive end, I had two jobs. The first was to force all the plays inside, so the ball carrier had to run up the middle into the teeth of our defense. The second was to rush the quarterback on pass plays. Coach Rector had been hired because he had an excellent mind for defensive football. I wasn’t surprised when he signaled for me to take an inside rush.
Right before the snap, the tackle assigned to block me jumped to try to get to me. The five-yard penalty made it first and fifteen. This made it much more likely Washington would have to pass the ball. On the snap, the tackle turned to meet me and shuffled back into pass protection. I went inside, and he never even touched me. Gabe had just planted his feet to throw when I drilled him.
I’d faced some athletic defensive ends, and they caused a special kind of hell for a quarterback. Gabe had unloaded the ball, which fell incomplete. He was lucky it hadn’t been intercepted.
“Take it easy on me,” Gabe said as I helped him up.
“How easy are you going to be on me?” I asked.
“Point taken. I would like to be able to play next week, though, if you’re so inclined.”
I just laughed, remembering how much it hurt to get blindsided like I’d just done to him.
On second down, Washington tried to run the option away from me. Yuri planted their running back after a one-yard gain. On third down, I batted the ball down when they tried a screen pass. Coach Rector was ecstatic that we held them to a three-and-out.
I was getting ready to go in while Coach Mason gave me last-minute instructions when the music started. Washington was my home away from home. Coach Mason gave me a funny look.