When the Game Stands Tall, Special Movie Edition

by Neil Hayes

  “What I see in this game is a St. Louis team in the same position we were in before our first game against Mater Dei,” De La Salle coach Bob Ladouceur said in the days leading up to the game. “They’re looking for validation and respect, and that makes them real dangerous. They’re not just playing for themselves; they’re playing for all the St. Louis players who always wanted to play in a game like this. That’s a powerful thing.”

  The hype began building the minute the game was announced in February 2002. Corporations lined up to sponsor the event. Radio, television, and newspaper ads promoted ticket sales. Schedules were adjusted so none of the other forty-six high school football teams on Oahu would play games that night, ensuring that coaches and players could attend the doubleheader. Maui teams cleared their schedules as well.

  The Hawaiian High School Athletic Association (HHSAA) website was bombarded by hits from as far away as Virginia and Indiana. Some 250 fans from American Samoa made the five-hour-plus flight to Honolulu for the games. The doubleheader is front-page news in USA Today’s sports section. Local politicians fear the event will keep voters away from the Democratic primary.

  The week leading up to the event seems like the run-up to a college bowl game. Cheerleaders meet the De La Salle and Long Beach Poly team planes at the airport and present players and coaches with leis. Luxury motor coaches shuttle teams to and from practices in air-conditioned comfort.

  In the final twenty-four hours before kickoff, emotions reach a crescendo. De La Salle players watched their predecessors play games of national significance in recent years. Ready or not, it is now their turn. They wouldn’t trade what they are about to share for all the temptations that await them on the street below.

  As they gather in the eleventh-floor meeting room, the primary focus isn’t on defending The Streak or even prolonging it, though such sentiment always lurks near the surface. The football family crams into a corner of the room as strength and conditioning coach Mike Blasquez starts to speak over the party for fans and sponsors raging below. They need to hear what he has to say. They know they have to come together to get through this.

  You’re going into the most physically demanding moment of your life. It’s going to be harder than any summer workout or any training you’ve done to date. Tomorrow is going to be double or triple that. You’ve trained for it. Physically, you’re ready for that. You’re trained to recover. You’ll rest for twenty seconds and you’ll be able to do it again.… You offensive linemen are going against guys fifty, sixty, seventy pounds heavier than you. I’m telling you right now, if you go out and try to wrestle those guys you will get tired and you will get beat. I’ve seen it every year I’ve been part of this program. Smaller guys have been able to battle bigger guys because of their speed and willingness to hit. That’s how you overcome guys who are bigger and stronger than you. You pound them, smack them. You use your explosiveness and you blow those guys up. That’s how you’re going to do it.…

  ★ ★ ★

  It was Keith Amemiya’s idea to bring De La Salle to Hawaii. The executive director of the HHSAA worked for two years to make this game a reality.

  There were skeptics who scoffed at the idea. It would cost $150,000 to fly De La Salle and Long Beach Poly to Honolulu and feed, house, and shuttle the two teams to and from practice, but Amemiya knew he had the one commodity that guaranteed success.

  He had De La Salle and its record winning streak.

  “De La Salle is far and away the most desirable team for a Hawaiian team to play,” Amemiya said while watching De La Salle practice at Aloha Stadium on Wednesday before the game.

  A radio station called De La Salle athletic director (and assistant coach) Terry Eidson in the fall of 2000 to propose sponsoring a season-ending game between St. Louis and De La Salle. The idea seemed preposterous to Eidson, because the proposed date was just six weeks away. Both teams would require special permission from their respective state and local athletic associations, a process that might require both teams be excluded from post-season participation. In De La Salle’s case, it might even require the school to compensate the North Coast Section for lost revenue. Besides, who would pay for the airfare and accommodations?

  Former coach Cal Lee, with the help of various Honolulu media organizations, kept the pressure on. It was reported that the HHSAA had agreed to allow St. Louis to bow out of the state championship game in order to play De La Salle. Lee even offered to travel to California and play De La Salle on its home field to make the game a reality.

  At least one of the reports was wishful thinking. St. Louis had not received permission to play an unscheduled season-ending game, and Amemiya faxed a letter to Eidson to that effect. But the dream was out of the bottle. News of the potential matchup spread throughout the islands. The perception was that De La Salle was ducking mighty St. Louis.

  “It seems like all they want to do is add to their winning streak,” one of the radio station’s hosts told the Honolulu Star Bulletin. Eidson was furious.

  Amemiya called a few months later to reiterate the HHSAA’s position and to inquire about the possibility of De La Salle playing St. Louis sometime in the future. Eidson said he would seriously consider playing the Hawaiian state champion—whether it be St. Louis or Kahuku—if certain conditions were met.

  He wanted his team’s expenses paid, for one. His second concern was scheduling. The football season typically begins earlier in Hawaii, and Eidson didn’t want to be playing his season opener against a team that already had played three or four games. As the second condition, the Hawaiian opponent could play no more than two games before the proposed date, which would still give it a one-game advantage. Lastly, the Hawaiian team could not use fifth-year seniors.

  The Interscholastic League of Honolulu, which included St. Louis, allowed student-athletes who needed five years to complete a four-year education to be eligible for athletics in their fifth and final year. The practice had been outlawed in the Honolulu public school league and also in HHSAA bylaws. The private school league eventually changed the rule, but players who were already enrolled were protected under a grandfather clause.

  Amemiya didn’t think the fifth-year senior rule was an issue. He began the process of making the game a reality. But as the game approached, he discovered that pre-season all-American defensive lineman Tolifili Liufau had completed ninth grade at a public school before transferring to St. Louis and repeating his freshman year. He had not played or even practiced with the football team during the repeated year, and had only recently turned eighteen. Still, Liufau was the best player in the state. He could bench-press 225 pounds thirty-eight times and had standing scholarship offers from USC, Oregon, Washington, Wisconsin, Tennessee, and Brigham Young.

  Eidson and Amemiya had spoken countless times on the phone, and a mutual respect had developed. Eidson knew the St. Louis community would ridicule Amemiya if Liufau were ruled ineligible. Amemiya felt a responsibility to live up to Eidson’s conditions, which he considered more than fair.

  “I brought it to Terry’s attention and we talked about it,” Amemiya said. “We agreed we were both in a no-win situation. If [Liufau] doesn’t play, St. Louis will complain, and if he does play, De La Salle will complain. In the end, we felt that him playing would be less of a distraction than if he didn’t. One player wouldn’t make the difference, and we didn’t want anything to take away from the doubleheader.”

  Eidson wanted to allow Liufau to play so St. Louis would have no excuses if it lost. First he had to convince Ladouceur. Fortunately, he had lots of experience in this area.

  Eidson loves challenges. He thrives on competition. He wanted to play national powerhouses far from home. Ladouceur, meanwhile, focused on individual challenges more than the final score and was content dominating teams from Northern California. When Eidson pushed to upgrade the schedule, Ladouceur relented and was later thankful for the upgrade.

  “Bob can be very little-old-ladyish,” said longtime friend
Blair Thomas, who filled Eidson’s role as Ladouceur’s chief assistant for eleven years. “Sometimes you have to convince him the other road must be taken. Sometimes you have to talk Bob into doing what’s best for Bob. Terry is that guy.”

  It was always that way. When Eidson first proposed scheduling Southern California powerhouse Mater Dei of Santa Ana, Ladouceur resisted. It had been even more difficult for Eidson to convince him to play powerful Long Beach Poly.

  Even the Hawaii trip took some finesse, although the enthusiasm of the assistant coaches made it easier for Eidson to convince Ladouceur.

  “I didn’t think it would be a tough sell, but it started out that way,” Eidson said. “All these games are a tough sell with him. It’s like dealing with your parents. The first answer is always no, and then you start working on them.”

  Eidson called a staff meeting—a rarity at De La Salle—to discuss the fifth-year senior issue after a pre-season practice. He hadn’t told anybody of his desire to let Liufau play. He told them Amemiya had inquired about the possibility of Liufau participating in the game, and as the athletic director it was his responsibility to pass the inquiry on to the staff.

  “They can’t start changing the rules now,” Ladouceur said. “That’s like us saying at the last minute that we want to play the game in California instead.”

  Everyone in the cramped, cluttered upstairs office nodded in agreement—everybody except Eidson, playing the role of moderator.

  “But we don’t want them to have any excuses if they lose,” Eidson said.

  “What excuse?” assistant coach Justin Alumbaugh said, throwing his hands in the air. “We’ve got a contract that says no fifth-year seniors. How is that an excuse?”

  There were more nodding heads. Soon, everybody was talking at once and expressing the same sentiment. A deal is a deal. You can’t change the rules now.

  “Just so you know, I did a little research,” Eidson said. “Liufau repeated the ninth grade but he didn’t play football. He just turned eighteen so it’s not like he’s twenty-two years old. What’s the difference between him and one of our defensive linemen?”

  “About eighty pounds,” Ladouceur shot back, prompting smiles.

  Ever the administrator, assistant coach Joe Aliotti sympathized with Eidson, who would be cast as a villain if Liufau did not play. He suggested they throw the decision back at Amemiya. Why should it come from them? They had wanted a third party involved for this precise reason. The HHSAA negotiated a contract that said no fifth-year seniors. Why was it now De La Salle’s responsibility to change the conditions a month before the game?

  That’s how they left it. Eidson would tell Amemiya it was the HHSAA’s call. He would say they were disappointed the issue had come up at such a late date, but if the agreement were to be changed it should be by a neutral third party.

  Ladouceur was in the locker room undressing for a workout when Eidson barged into the room.

  “I just want you to know something!” he yelled at Ladouceur, who just stood there, frozen, with one leg in the air as he changed out of his shorts. “If we tell them he can’t play, it will detract from the game. The headline will be, ‘We didn’t want their best kid to play.’ If you want to lessen the impact of the game, then tell him he can’t play and that’s exactly what will happen! I don’t want any excuses!”

  “Then let him play,” Ladouceur said, suddenly indifferent.

  Eidson marched out of the room, barely able to conceal a smile, before Ladouceur could change his mind, much less his pants.

  The question was no longer would Liufau play, but: who would block him?

  ★ ★ ★

  The party down on the street has grown even louder. A crowd of shrieking girls clusters around one of the three stages and screams in the fleeting silence between songs. Lights from boats twinkle on the water in the distance as Ladouceur addresses the team.

  My job as your coach is to find out what your ceiling is. I have a good idea, but exactly where it is, I don’t know that right now. Neither do you.… I’m not saying you guys have to hit your ceiling tomorrow. It’s the second week of the season. You’re not going to reach it, but you have to make a significant gain tomorrow night.… You have to take ownership of this game. Taking ownership means getting together as a group and saying, “Look, on this play, we’re going to do this.” You can’t come to us all the time because YOU’RE playing the game. Right next to each other. It doesn’t matter what I know. It matters what the kid playing next to you knows. That’s taking ownership. That’s taking responsibility. That’s what we need from YOU. That’s what it’s got to be or nothing good will happen tomorrow. If it comes from you everything good will happen. It’s not talk. It’s do.

  ★ ★ ★

  There was no one in the emergency room when Maurice Drew arrived after the Mitty game. The X-rays were negative. At worst his injury was a damaged ligament; at best a mild sprain.

  A machine that combines cold and compression, coupled with anti-inflammatory drugs, kept the swelling down overnight. But Drew still couldn’t put any weight on his ankle when he arrived at school the following morning.

  The question of Drew’s availability resulted in a week of speculation. It had been a long time since De La Salle has been so dependent on one player. Now he might not be able to play one of the biggest games in school history.

  Blasquez put Drew on a regimen of motion and strengthening exercises combined with soft-tissue massage. Drew didn’t practice Monday. He jogged Tuesday. The team flew to Honolulu on Wednesday and had a practice scheduled for that afternoon. Curious onlookers watched as Blasquez put Drew through his paces on the sideline.

  Drew could run straight ahead at about 75 percent of his usual speed, but cutting and planting on the ankle was still painful. He felt better by Thursday but was still tentative, forcing the coaching staff to make a difficult decision.

  Blasquez and team physician Dr. John Wilhelmy know there is little chance of Drew’s ankle suffering further damage by playing. It’s a matter of pain management. The possibility of a pain-killing injection is not considered.

  “He feels a weakness in there, and an injection is not going to help that,” Blasquez says. “When you use those methods to get kids ready to play it’s a question of ethics. There are only a few injuries where you can mask the pain and not cause additional damage, but I won’t do that and neither will the team doctor.”

  Blasquez wants Drew to test the ankle to see whether or not he thinks he can play. He wants Drew to run ten plays in full pads with the first-team offense during Thursday’s practice. Drew needs to know what he can do and what he can expect.

  “Maurice needs to go out there and mix it up and realize that there might be pain but he’s not going to hurt himself,” Blasquez said.

  The assistant coaches disagree. Why not give Drew’s ankle two extra days to heal and see how it feels during pre-game warm-ups? Why take a chance of reinjuring the ankle in practice two days before the game when it might improve significantly by kickoff?

  Ladouceur defers to Blasquez, and Drew takes the practice field for a series that will determine whether the player who bailed his teammates out again and again against Mitty will be available for the first big game of the season.

  The first three plays go off without incident. Drew isn’t as explosive as before the injury, but he still has a burst. He takes a handoff on the fourth play and makes a spin move before being tackled. He screams in agony as he hits the ground, the sickening cry echoing across the silent practice field. Everybody freezes except for Blasquez, who rushes to Drew’s side. His teammates’ faces drain of color and their eyes grow wide as Blasquez kneels over Drew and eventually helps him to his feet.

  “He’s out of the game,” Ladouceur thinks to himself.

  Drew felt the same pain he experienced against Mitty. He panicked. He’s walking without a limp a few minutes later. He’s more scared than hurt. He has experienced the pain and now he knows wha
t to expect.

  “Look, I’m not going to clear you for this game,” Blasquez told him. “I’ve done everything I can to help you. There’s no magic potion. You will feel pretty much the way you feel today on Saturday. What I need to know is, do you feel confident enough to play full-speed and without hesitation? If you do, I’ll clear you. But if you look me in the eye and are unsure, I won’t. I don’t want an answer until Friday.”

  Drew ultimately convinces Blasquez to clear him. But no one knows how much he will be able to contribute as Ladouceur continues his pregame talk.

  You’ve got to come into games like tomorrow night’s like a razor. I saw too many guys who thought something bad was going to happen when they took [Drew] off the field. I saw it in your faces when he was on the grass screaming yesterday. I’ve approached this whole week thinking if he plays, great, if he doesn’t, good for you [pointing to the team]. Now it’s YOUR chance. Even if he does play it’s still your chance. You know what happened last week. We’re not going to win with last week’s effort; I don’t give a shit how good he is. That’s what makes this game so great. It’s getting all the guys doing their jobs at one time. That’s hard to do. Not just doing it but doing it with passion and aggression. I can tell every time a De La Salle team takes ownership of a game. You see it on the field and you say, “Wow. We’re blowing these guys out,” or, “We’re fighting like banshees out there.” It’s obvious. You didn’t take ownership last week.…

  Offensively, we’re starting to understand some things. You need to play offense with aggression and passion. Defensively, [Eidson] has prepped you for this game for a year. Ever since we’ve been allowed to have a football out there he’s prepped you for this game. THIS GAME. I’m looking forward to this game tomorrow, I really am. Isn’t this what you wanted? If this is what you wanted, this is what it takes. If it’s not what you wanted you can go down to the street right now and have fun. But from what I heard from everyone in the off-season—“Yeah, let’s play that team. Get Poly on the schedule. Let’s play these guys.” All right. If that’s what you want. If you want Long Beach, St. Louis, OK, this is what it takes. My opinion is you can do it. You can beat these guys solidly. That’s my opinion. But you’ve got to take responsibility.