When the game began, I was happy to see Wes was out of his comfort zone. He went first and ended up only completing two short passes and turned the ball over on downs. On my first attempt, I was called for holding the ball too long. I felt myself tightening up and took a moment to take a few deep breaths to calm down.
On the next play we ran, I had my two receivers on my right side doing a crossing pattern. The hope was one of the defensive backs would get held up, giving me an opportunity. They were too disciplined and covered them perfectly. I went to my third read on the left-hand side of the field. Dan was doing a down-and-up. I saw him get past his defender, but he let Dan go, hoping I would take the bait. They had a defender over the top just waiting for my long throw. I swung back to the right. Justin had started on the left side of the field. He had only gone five yards deep and then jogged across the field to the right. Once he reached where the first two players had crossed, he looped downfield, following them in their wake. I threw him a ball on a rope and he snatched it out of the air. He picked up twenty yards before he was stopped.
There were a few similar plays that we took advantage of. I was able to drive us downfield, and we scored to take a 7–0 lead.
Wes was frustrated again and we got the ball back. We used the same strategy, and Dan scored to put us up 14–0.
Wes caught fire at that point, and the defensive coaches figured out what I was doing. Wes came roaring back and took a 21–14 lead.
That was when I saw the defense was letting my first two reads go after I moved off them. I cheated and didn’t follow my read progressions. I acted like I was moving to my second read and then came right back to my first. On consecutive plays I found Craig and then Jim open for scores. Wes was deflated when I took a 28–21 lead as time expired.
I hoped that, by beating the number 1, number 2, number 6 and number 14 seeds, I had done enough to be named MVP. We were told to come back at five o’clock to find out who had made the Elite 11, and the MVP would be named.
We were left to stew as the coaches met.
THEY HAD THE SIXTEEN of us who remained line up. Two had been sent home previously for not following the rules. ESPNU was ready to video the announcement. Coach Trent came out to address us for the last time.
“Sunday, we first met. Since then, I’ve seen some tremendous growth from every single one of you. I saw you face adversity and overcome it. I couldn’t be happier with the group of guys we had this time. The ones who made it to the last day are all winners in my book. You all have the ability to do something special on the football field and in life. You are the type of leader we need in this game,” he said as he looked at each of us.
Then he got sad.
“I hate this part. I will have to tell some of you the bad news of not making the Elite 11. For those that don’t make it, you take home the knowledge that you beat out over four hundred quarterback prospects to get here. Even if you didn’t make the Elite 11, you proved you deserved to be here! I don’t want to see anyone hang their head.”
Coach Trent went to the front of the line. We were in order of our original ranking. Wes Hunt was first.
“Wes showed us, right from the beginning at the LA camp, that he was a stud. He came in ranked number 1 in the incoming senior class and has already verbally accepted a scholarship to Alabama. Wes shined in LA and was named MVP of that camp. We expected big things when Wes came to the finals. We weren’t disappointed. He did everything we asked of him, both on and off the football field. Wes, step forward. You’ve earned your spot in the Elite 11, and have been named MVP.”
Coach Trent had similar words of praise for the other players. Tim, Roland and Doyle all made it in. Flee didn’t make it. When he finally got to me, I knew I was in because only ten slots had been filled.
“As you know, you made it, David. We thought long and hard about whether we should invite an underclassman to the final. All the coaches, including me, were impressed with how you conducted yourself. We put you head-to-head with the best players here. In each case, you outplayed them. We would have done you a tremendous injustice if we didn’t reward your effort. You’ve also been named MVP. For the first time, we have our first underclassman as an Elite 11 quarterback. Please take your place with your fellow Elite 11 finalists.”
I couldn’t stop smiling if I wanted to. I couldn’t wait for all the pictures and handshaking to be done. I made sure to thank all the coaches and then the players I had worked with all week. I even tracked down the evil defensive coaches they had brought in to torment us. I made sure I thanked Coach Allen and Bo, too.
I would see Bo at the next camp. I couldn’t wait to quit running around in shorts and t-shirts and put on some pads.
I wanted to hit someone!
I FOUND MY FAMILY AND got hugs from all of them. We took Tami and Greg to the airport so they could get home. Mom and Dad drove me to Eugene, Oregon, the home of the Oregon Ducks. We had scheduled an unofficial visit for Saturday to see the athletic facilities and campus.
Saturday July 11
WE HAD AN EIGHT A.M. breakfast meeting with Oregon’s head coach scheduled. We arrived and told the receptionist we were there. One of the team managers came out and got us.
“Come on back and we’ll get you some breakfast. My name is Terrance, and I’ll be your guide today.”
He took us to a dining room and we were seated while Terrance left us. A waiter came and took our order.
“I thought we were meeting with the head coach,” Mom said.
“That’s what Bo was told. They obviously knew we were coming,” I said.
After we ate, Terrance came back.
“I thought we were meeting Coach Faber,” I said.
“Dave, he’s busy at the moment. He’ll meet with you when he’s done.”
I saw Mom stiffen. Dad touched her arm and she relaxed. We followed Terrance around. He insisted on calling me ‘Dave.’ I knew he was just giving the tour, but he was irritating. I was not disappointed when Terrance had to leave us. We met with an academic counselor to talk about what Oregon had to offer. We were then handed off to a tour guide who showed us the campus.
We were taken back to the athletic department reception area. I went up to the guy who now was manning the desk.
“Could you tell Coach Faber that David Dawson and his family are waiting to see him?” I asked.
Another member of the athletic department came out to see us.
“David, it’s nice to meet you. May I ask why you’re here to meet Coach Faber?”
“I was at the Elite 11 quarterback camp at the Nike Campus this last week. I made an appointment for an unofficial visit to Oregon, where I was supposed to have breakfast with Coach Faber. I can see that I made a mistake.”
“I told you USC was the place for you,” Mom said, and we started out the door.
We made it to the parking lot when another breathless guy came running out.
“Hang on, there’s been a mistake,” he said as he bent over.
“Look, I have better things to do than to waste my time. I drove down with my parents just to make a quick visit. I know when I’m not wanted.”
“Sorry, the reservation said Dave Dawkins, not David Dawson. Please, Coach Faber would like to talk to you.”
I raised my eyebrows when I saw the look on my mom’s face. Dad rolled his eyes. I put on my best smile and followed the messenger into the building. We were escorted into the football offices and Coach Faber came out.
“Sorry for the confusion. I’m so glad you could make it. Have you enjoyed your visit so far?” Coach Faber asked.
“I have a question,” my mom replied.
Oh shit!
“Let’s go to my office so we can talk. Can I get you folks something to drink?”