by Mark Tabb
Emotions weren’t so high the next morning. Humidity levels were off the charts, and the August heat cranked up the moment the sun poked up over the horizon. The seniors on the team tried to keep everyone on track, but about three-quarters of the way through practice, most of the underclassmen were moving at half speed, if that fast. Ed had seen enough.
“Gather in here guys!” he yelled. “Now! Run! We don’t walk on this field! Get in here!” As soon as the last player joined the group, Ed dropped the hammer. “You fellas think you’re hurting? You think you’ve got it bad? Well, look around! You see all those houses that are gone? You haven’t suffered. Those are the people who are suffering! We’re playing for them. So quit dragging and GET UP AND GET GOING! YOU SEE ALL THOSE PEOPLE REBUILDING! IT’S NO DIFFERENT HERE!”
For the players in that circle, the jar of beans hit the wall. It was time to get to work.*
*For footage of the early season A-P football practices, go to www.youtube.com/watch?v=kx1yBKIKSLs&feature=channel.
CHAPTER 12
MORE THAN A GAME
It’s all right here now. You’ve just got to go take it.
ED THOMAS
FOOTBALL SEASON ALWAYS KEPT ED KEYED UP, BUT NOT LIKE this. In just over twelve hours, his team would run onto its home field to play West Marshall, exactly 105 days after it had looked like an impossibility. He bounced out of bed as giddy as an eight-year-old boy on Christmas morning.
After a quick shower, he got dressed and ran down the apartment stairs. Not even the raindrop that bounced on top of his head the moment he walked outside could dampen his mood. He looked up at the sky and broke out in a smile. Ah, who cares if it rains or not? We’re playing football tonight, and we’re doing it here.
Ed hopped into his truck and took off toward the football field. Ron Westerman, who had worked side by side with Ed on the field all summer, was already hard at work when Ed arrived. “Hey, Ron,” Ed said as he bounced out of his truck, “tonight’s the night!”
Ron shook his head and let out a nervous laugh. “Lotta work to be done between now and then, Coach, a lotta work. I’m not sure if we can finish it all.”
Ed walked over and patted Ron on the back. “Don’t worry. It will all come together. We’ve come too far not to.”
Ron looked around at his fellow school employees scrambling around the field that morning. The head of the maintenance staff at the high school was laying sod around the FieldTurf coaches’ box on the visitors’ side of the field. One of Ed’s former students, who was now an electrician, was on a ladder under the scoreboard, hooking something up to the electronic message board. A couple of other guys from the school maintenance staff were hammering forms into the ground next to the ticket booths, where concrete was to be poured later that morning. Still another had started stringing extension cords over to the concession stands. “Yeah, I know, Coach. We’ll get everything done. I don’t know how, but we’ll get it done.”
“You bet we will. I’ve got to get to class. I’ll be back this afternoon. Call me if you need me.”
As much as he hated to leave, Ed could not stay at the field for long; he had a full day of teaching ahead. He had to drive to Aplington Middle School, which now doubled as the high school. The school district had brought in portable classrooms to help make space. During two-a-days, Ed canceled the second practice of the day on more than one occasion so that his players could help move desks and set up classrooms. The middle school building felt cramped, but no one complained. After all, everyone knew this was a temporary arrangement, and it sure beat having their school district absorbed by one in a nearby town.
Once the morning bell rang, Ed tried to keep his mind on his classes, but he was clearly distracted. He wasn’t alone. The school had the feel of the day before Christmas break. Even when Ed managed to focus his full attention on his lecture on the Monroe Doctrine, his cell phone would ring. “Hey, Coach, sorry to disturb you, but I have a quick question for you …” With so many contractors, school employees, and volunteers trying to put the finishing touches on the field for the game, Ed had no choice but to take the calls. The few times he let the calls go to voice mail, he had to ask one of his students to help him retrieve the messages. In the three months since the school superintendent got him a cell phone, Ed had still not figured out how to do anything more than make and receive phone calls.
The moment classes let out, Ed rushed back to Parkersburg and the football field. He parked near the television trucks from Waterloo and Des Moines that had set up shop in the parking lot. KWWL planned on broadcasting the game live, a first for Parkersburg. It was over three hours before kickoff, yet the high school lot had already started to fill with fans gathering for the game. Ed wasn’t surprised. The week before in the season opener at Dike-New Hartford, the visitors’ stands were already packed when the Falcons got off the bus. Clearly, the community was as anxious for this season as Ed was. Milling about in the crowd were former players who had come back to town just for this night. Ed tried to stop and say hello to each one, but he didn’t have much time for socializing.
“OK, Ron, where are we with everything?” Ed asked as soon as he found Ron Westerman.
“Well, the scoreboard is up and running. And since it finally stopped raining, we were able to get the concrete truck in here. They just finished pouring the last of it. Don’t worry. They used quick-drying cement, so it should be good to go long before game time. My guys strung power cords to the concession stands and ticket booths, so that’s taken care of. We did the same with water hoses for the concession stands. It may not be pretty, but they have water. And we set up the extra chairs around the track for all the special guests who are supposed to be here tonight.” Ron let out a long sigh. “Soooo, all in all I would say we’re ready to play a little football.”
“The field is ready?”
“Oh, yeah,” Ron said with a smile. “Just wait until you see it.” “Let’s go,” Ed said.
Players and assistant coaches arrived earlier than usual. The atmosphere at Ed Thomas Field felt like a carnival had just pulled into town. Part of the carnival surrounded the arrival of Green Bay Packers defensive lineman Aaron Kampman and his wife, Linde. Even though the NFL season opened that weekend, Aaron was able to come back for the game because the Packers opened at home on Monday night. Aaron and Linde had been back several times since Aaron came into town the day after the tornado. Every time they returned, the town looked different.
As they drove through town on their way to the football field for the first game, they saw houses springing up all across the south side of town. The Kwik Star gas station was open for business, and the bank and city hall buildings were almost finished. Yet they noticed the biggest change in the town when they walked into the crowd at the Booster Club dinner. This did not feel like a town struggling to recover from a tornado. “Man, you can just feel the hope in the air,” Aaron said to Linde. “You can sense a spirit of redemption here.”
As soon as he could get away from family, Aaron walked over to the bus barn that doubled as the teams’ temporary locker rooms. He slipped into the door, almost unnoticed. Camera crews filled the room, and microphones popped up like dandelions in spring. Ed caught sight of him and waved him over. “Man, I’m so glad you could make it back,” Coach said.
“I had to see it with my own eyes,” Aaron said. “Wow, I can’t believe you guys pulled this off so fast.”
“A lot of people put in a lot of time to make it happen. So, you ready to talk to the team?”
Aaron took a deep breath. “Are you sure you want me to talk to them? I mean, this is your night, not mine.” A couple of days earlier, Aaron had called and asked Ed if he minded if he came back for the game. Ed not only told him to come; he asked Aaron to speak to the team prior to their warm-ups.
“It’s not my night either. It’s their night. It’s the town’s night. I can’t think of anyone I would rather have speak to them right now than you,” Ed said. He then turn
ed to the team and said, “Hey, fellas, gather round here. I’ve asked one of our former players to say a few words to you guys tonight. So listen up. Aaron, come on over.”
Aaron walked over into the middle of the team, all of whom were sitting at their lockers or on the floor. Looking into the faces of these fifteen-, sixteen-, and seventeen-year-old boys, he threw the speech he had planned out the window. Aaron sensed these young men carried the pressure of the community’s expectations on their shoulders, as though they all felt they had to win the game or they would let down the entire town. He wanted to defuse that pressure.
“Hey, guys. It’s good to be back tonight. Wow. I can’t believe all the cameras and microphones in this locker room. You’ve got more media in here covering your game than we had in Green Bay back in January for the NFC Championship game. But you know, guys, none of this media coverage really matters. What matters tonight is for you to go out there and have fun. I’ve played a lot of big football games in college and the pros, but I have to tell you, there’s nothing in the world that compares to putting on that Falcon uniform and going out on a Friday night to play for Coach Thomas. Nothing.
“I want to leave you with one thought as you go out there. Colossians 3:23 says, ‘Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men.’ That verse is true for everything you will ever do in your life. As a father, I try to be the best father I can be for the sake of Christ. As a husband, I try to be the best husband I can be for the sake of Christ. And when I run out onto the football field, I play my hardest because I play for Christ, not for myself. I want to encourage you to do that as you go out there tonight. Play for him, and have fun.
“So are you guys excited?!”
The locker room erupted.
“OK, guys, let’s go warm up!” Ed called out to the team.
Ed hung back for just a moment as one of his assistant coaches led the team out to the field. “Aaron, that was great. Thanks for sharing with the guys.”
“You know, Coach, I didn’t say anything I didn’t hear you say a thousand times.”
“I don’t know about that. But thanks. It means a lot to me.” Aaron reached over and gave Ed a hug. “I love you, Coach.” “Love you too, Aaron. Thanks.”
Ed joined the team on the field. Assistant coach Jon Wiegmann walked over to him. “Wow, Coach, I thought the field looked good before. I can’t believe this. It looks like a college field. Better than a college field.”
Ed smiled. “Yeah, Ron and the guys did a really good job on it, didn’t they?”
“Oh, man. Did they ever! And the falcon in the middle of the field and the way the word Falcons is painted in the end zones—it looks like the Atlanta Falcons play here.”*
“You know, Wigs, I’ve always wanted to do that,” Ed said. “I told you we were going to make it better than it was before.”
The rain that fell off and on all day kicked back up about the time the Falcons came out to warm up. No one in the standing-room-only crowd seemed to mind. Nor did anyone seem to notice the extension cords running between the concession stands or the water hoses that supplied the water. The rain could not dampen the mood of the crowd, and neither could the lack of proper bathrooms or anything else that wasn’t perfect that night.
“I wish I had some great words of wisdom to share with you fellas tonight, but I don’t,” Ed said as he started his pregame talk to his team. In his years as a coach, he had delivered scores of speeches to his teams —before games, at practices, during halftimes, after big wins and devastating losses —but nothing compared to this. Since the day he announced the team would play its first home game on schedule, he had thought about what this moment would be like. Now that it was here, he felt that anything he said fell short of how important this moment was to himself, the team, and the entire town of Parkersburg.
“We’ve waited a long time for tonight. In a sense, there are two games tonight. We’ve already won the first one. I know a bunch of people doubted that it would be possible to get that field ready to play on this fall. We proved them wrong. There was no way we could have done this by ourselves, but we didn’t have to do it by ourselves. People came in from all over this community — other students, other schools—and they made this night possible for us.
“Yes, fellas, we have already won in a lot of ways. We made a choice to get back up off the ground; we made the choice to rebuild; we made the choice to move forward! And that’s something you are going to carry with you the rest of your life.
“When we run out on the field tonight, we’re going to run under our old Falcon Country sign from our old scoreboard. A lot of people asked why we put it back up. It’s all dented and smashed. But that sign symbolizes what our community and our town are all about. Tonight, and every night, when we go out on the field, that sign will be there to mark forever what took place here.
“I’ve thought a lot about tonight and what it was going to be like to go back out on our field. I hope you guys realize how truly blessed we are and the grace that has been shown to us. You guys have been a source of hope for this community. Our community is proud of you. They are proud of this program. They are proud of what it stands for.
“Tonight, every player who has ever played on that field, I guarantee you, is thinking about you. Every single one of them.
“This night is for you guys. Enjoy it. Play with heart. Play with great enthusiasm. Play the kind of football we play here at A-P for four full quarters. Fellas, I’ve been at this for thirty-six years, and let me tell you up front: Nothing is going to be greater than going out on that field on this night. Let’s take a knee.”
Ed then led the team in prayer. He didn’t pray for a victory. He never did that. Instead he asked the Lord to protect both teams from injury and for the grace for his own team to go out and play with class and integrity. Even on a night like this, to Ed, the most important thing was not whether he won or lost, but in how he and his players represented their school, their community, and all the players who had come before them.
The moment he said Amen to end his prayer, his players erupted in cheers. “Are you ready? Let’s go!” Ed said as he led his team out the door. He bounced around like this really was Christmas morning. If he hadn’t been fifty-eight-years old, he may well have put on a helmet and shoulder pads himself and run out onto the field.
A-P won the coin toss and elected to receive. They took the opening kick and drove down the field. The fourth play of the game set the tone for the night. Facing a fourth and one at his own forty-three yard line, Ed went for the first down rather than sending in the punt team. His gamble proved to be no gamble at all, as the defense jumped offside when Alec Thompson changed the snap count. Seven plays later, Colin Tenney ran the ball into the end zone for the first score of the night. Stanley Tuve added the extra point, and A-P took a 7 to 0 lead.
West Marshall answered with a long touchdown drive of their own. However, their kicker pulled the extra point to the left. A-P held a one point lead at the end of the first quarter. In classic Ed Thomas fashion, the Falcons rushed for 105 yards in the quarter and passed for 0. They went on to score another touchdown on their second possession of the game. Their two-point conversion attempt failed. The Falcon defense forced a West Marshall punt on the Trojans second possession. However, a penalty penned A-P back inside its own ten yard line. Eight plays and ninety-three yards later, the Falcons extended their lead to 21 to 6, thanks in large part to a fifty yard Alex Hornbuckle run. Alec Thompson completed his first pass for the two-point conversion. However, West Marshall answered with a touchdown of its own at the end of the first half, although the two-point conversion attempt failed. A-P went into the locker room with a 21 to 12 lead.
Ed’s halftime speech was simple and to the point. He put the focus on this game in light of the season that lay ahead of them. “We are one half of a football game away from one of our goals for this year,” he said, “and that’s to be 2 and 0 going into district p
lay. It is all right here, right here, for us. All we have to do is take hold of it. So let’s do it!”
A-P opened the second half with a strong defensive stand, followed by a ninety-eight-yard touchdown drive. Ed’s defense intercepted a pass on West Marshall’s next possession, which led to a long Alex Hornbuckle touchdown run. A-P never looked back. When the clock wound down, the final score was A-P 53 and West Marshall 20. Three of A-P’s running backs finished with over one hundred yards rushing. Hornbuckle had over two hundred yards.*
For Ed, the best part, beyond the win, was the fact that for two hours, he and the entire community were able to think about nothing but football without feeling guilty about it.
As soon as the final gun sounded, Ed gathered his team around him and addressed the crowd. “This has been a very special night for our young people and for our community. There hasn’t been a day since May 25 that I haven’t thanked God for his grace and his mercy upon this community and upon our young people. If it wasn’t for you as parents and as students and for you as a community and for outside people coming in and making this possible, we wouldn’t be here tonight. And there is no question in my mind that we will be a better school and a better community than we ever were before. Thank you!”
Fireworks then exploded overhead. The message on the scoreboard simply read: Parkersburg is back.
Jan found Ed in the middle of the field. His emotions came flooding out. He hugged her and said, “That was special,” his voice cracking.
“I know,” Jan said, as calm as can be. “It was a big night.”