“Yeah, the guys are all too tense. I’m afraid they’re going to choke today,” Bill said.
I listened to the locker room and it was much quieter than normal. I got up and saw everyone fidgeting. They were starting to make me nervous. I went looking for Wolf. He was just getting done being taped.
“I need you, Brother,” I told him.
“Anything you want, Cap,” he shot back.
“The guys need to be distracted. Can you tell them one of your dad or uncle stories?” I asked.
“How about hot versus crazy girls and how to know if you should date them?” he suggested.
I laughed. Hell, I wanted to hear that one myself. I went and got Tim and Bill and had them send everyone into the film room. When everyone was there, I got up.
“Today’s a big game. I wanted to get you all together to prepare you. I’ve asked Wolf to help me,” I said, and Wolf got up in front of everyone.
Wolf picked up a marker and went to the whiteboard. He drew a big ‘L’ on the board. He wrote over the top ‘Hot Crazy Matrix.’
“Today I’m going to teach you how to pick women to date and how to deal with them. I’m going to teach you something I saw on YouTube that made a lot of sense,” he said as he wrote ‘Crazy’ on the left and ‘Hot’ underneath the ‘L.’
“Now, every guy knows we rate women on a 1 to 10 scale as far as hotness.”
He numbered the bottom axis.
“Crazy is measured from 3 to 10, because we all know there’s no such thing as a woman who’s not at least a little crazy,” Wolf sagely shared.
I looked around the room, and guys were actually paying attention. I had to admit, I was intrigued. He numbered the vertical axis from 3 to 10. Then he drew a diagonal line from the bottom left to the 10, 10 point at the top right of the chart.
“This is your all-important hot/crazy line. Now, I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be dating anyone less than a 5 on the hot line,” Wolf said as he put a 5 on the hot line and drew a vertical line on the chart.
“This area on the left is the ‘No Date Zone,’” he said as he wrote that on the board and shaded it in.
“Up to an 8, and below the hot/crazy line, is your ‘Play Zone,’” he said.
He put an 8 on the board and drew a vertical line up to the hot/crazy line.
“These are the girls you go out with and don’t get serious about. These are the girls David is normally seen with.”
That got a laugh.
“Above the hot/crazy line and more than a 5 in hotness is the ‘Danger Zone.’ These are girls you go out with and they get you arrested or trash your car. I think David calls this girl ‘Tracy.’”
He was having way too much fun with this.
“Now your next area of interest is called the ‘Date Zone.’ This is about a 7 on the crazy scale and below the hot/crazy line, but above an 8 on the hot scale,” He said as he drew a horizontal line from the 7 on the crazy scale.
“The area below the 7 and above the 3 and over 8 in hotness is your ‘Marry Her Zone.’ Now I have yet to see this girl. I hear it’s like finding Bigfoot. If you find her, immediately lock her down and marry her.”
“But what about Pam Bell? She’s above a 9 in hotness, and she’s really cool. I’d say she’s a 1 or 2 in craziness,” Bill said.
I tried to not laugh because everyone was taking this way too seriously. Wolf must have practiced his next line because he said it in all seriousness.
“Bill, I hate to break it to you, but my uncle told me that’s impossible. No girl, in fact, no woman is below a 3 on the crazy scale. He said if you ever found one, it’s probably a dude. He advised that you check her panties for a bulge because only a guy could be below a 3 on the crazy scale.”
Moose found us all howling. Thank God, Cassidy didn’t hear him. Wolf would be dead meat.
IN THE TIME WE’D BEEN getting ready in the locker room, the stands had filled. The winner of this game was in the State Finals. Wolf had done a good job getting everyone to relax. I hoped Mt. Carmel was as nervous as we’d been. When we went out for warm-ups, I could tell I would have a good game, because my nervous stomach felt like I was about to throw up. We’d worked hard for this moment, and I planned to enjoy it.
When we came out for the start of the game, the sound of the cowbells almost drowned out our marching band as they played the school song. The cheerleaders had a paper banner we ran through, and it was almost game time. I looked up into the stands and found my mom and dad sitting with my brother and his family. I also saw several recruiters in the stands. I planned to give them a show today.
The Mt. Carmel captains were talking smack and acting like total ass-hats at the coin toss.
“If it isn’t the queer. After we’re done with you, you’ll be lucky to be walking,” their middle linebacker told me.
I had never seen an unsportsmanlike penalty at the coin toss, but they got one. I actually laughed when my new best friend wanted to fight me. I just let the referee deal with his idiocy. Bill and Tim followed my lead, and we silently waited for everyone on their side to calm down. We finally did the coin toss. They won and acted like they’d won the game. Mt. Carmel decided they would defer to the second half.
The opening kickoff was pushed back fifteen yards, so we ended up with good field position, at our 38 yard line. Mt. Carmel was noted for their gambling defense. Coach Hope wanted us to run the ball early to see what they were going to do. He had Coach Diamond call the read option.
“Down ...” I called, and the defense jumped offsides.
Their middle linebacker blew through the line and tackled me. There were flags everywhere. I’d about enough of this. I was ready to just to knock him into next week. They got another fifteen yard penalty. We were now across midfield at their 47 yard line. I went to the referee.
“Look, if he attacks me again when the ball’s dead, I will defend myself,” I warned him.
“If you throw a punch, you’ll be gone,” he warned me. “Then you better protect me, because he’s already made threats of bodily harm.”
I knew it was a losing battle. I was kicking myself for giving the warning. Now he’d be looking for me to retaliate. We called the same play.
“Down ...” They jumped offside again.
Their middle linebacker came after me again, but this time I skipped behind the referee. The mental midget reached for me and actually knocked the referee down. It’s one thing for them to kill me, but touch a ref and say good night! My newest buddy was ejected, and their sideline warned. We were first and ten at their 32 yard line.
We called the same play.
“Down, Set ... Hut, HUT!”
I was tempted to let Bert have the ball up the middle because it looked like he had an opening, but I wanted to run the ball. I pulled it from Bert and made my read of the defensive end. He was closing hard, and the corner was all over Jake. I cut back and followed Bert through the hole. The defensive end reached up and pulled my helmet off. That’s a lot harder than it sounds. As I was lying on the ground, their defensive tackle kicked my helmet into my face and cut my chin.
Coach Hope was screaming at the referee as the trainers came running out. I was bleeding like a stuck pig from my wound. They rushed me to the sideline as the officials sorted everything out. Coach Hope lost his mind when they said they didn’t know who did what. I guess me bleeding was no big deal.
“You need stitches,” Becky announced.
They rushed me to the locker room where Doc Hasting, our head trainer, numbed me up and used butterfly Band-Aids to close the cut on my chin. They put gauze and tape over it and I headed back out. While I was gone, both teams had scored. Mt. Carmel had just kicked off to us, and I hurried out and replaced Mike at quarterback. He moved to tailback, and Jake left the huddle.