by Pat Flynn
Sam snatched up the ball and threw it between the goalposts, forty yards away, American-style. “That’s what happens when I try.”
Malivai went to run after it.
“Don’t,” said Ozzie. “Let him get it.”
Sam didn’t move.
“Get it,” said Ozzie, taking a single step closer to Sam.
Sam bumped Ozzie on his way past, but instead of getting the ball he walked right past it.
Later that day, when Sam closed the door on the young woman taped up inside his school locker, another stunning young woman was there in front of him. Except this one wasn’t wearing a red bikini, and she wasn’t smiling.
“I heard you walked out of practice,” said Unity.
Sam shrugged. “I wouldn’t call that practice.”
She glared at him.
“Who told you, anyway?” asked Sam.
“Austin.”
“Why do you even talk to that asshole?”
Unity raised her voice and a few nearby students turned their heads to listen. “That ‘asshole’ is helping us win. It seems that everyone appreciates it ’cept you.”
Sam shook his head. “I threw three touchdown passes last week. What do the papers write about? The Ossie and his goddamned trick play.”
Unity moved closer. Her expression softened. “You have a chance to do something real special for this town. We can beat Denham! But right now you’re screwing it up, just because it’s not all about you. Keep that up and you might lose more than a game.”
She walked away.
During history, Unity sat next to Ozzie. While they watched a DVD on the Civil War, learning how 618,000 people died for no good reason (which gave Ozzie a whole new perspective on “state versus state, mate versus mate”), Unity leaned over and whispered, “How are things going with Angela?”
Ozzie wasn’t sure what she meant, so he didn’t answer.
“Is she looking after you real fine?”
“Yep.”
“That’s good. She’s a sweet gal.”
Ozzie nodded. He could smell perfume, and if there ever was a sweet girl it was the one sitting beside him.
“I just want to warn you about something,” said Unity. “You know Angela used to go to Denham?”
“Yep.”
“Well, just watch what you say to her, because she’s still friends with some of the players and—”
“She wouldn’t do that.”
Unity touched his arm. “Look, I’m not saying anything, it’s just … there’s a lot riding on this game. I know she still sees the guy she used to date, and … you can never be too careful.”
“Unity!” came Miss Webb’s voice from the back of the room. “Stop talking football and watch the war!”
Ozzie looked up to see a Confederate soldier get stabbed with a bayonet.
After the pounding of hard-work Wednesday, Coach McCulloch called Sam into his office. “Someone wants to talk to you,” he said, before he shut the door and left.
Sitting at the desk was Coach Hayes. He had a pen in his hand. “How’re you doing, Sam?”
“Fine, sir.”
“Coach McCulloch asked for me to visit. Is it okay if we talk awhile?”
Coach Hayes had a way of asking a question that had only one possible answer.
“Yes, sir.”
Coach twirled the pen around his thumb. He saw Sam watching. “Instead of listening in school I spent too much time doing this.” He spun the pen again and put it on the desk.
“You know, Sam, I saw your daddy play once. I was in North Texas, visiting, and I watched a college game. Your daddy was the quarterback.”
Sam blinked.
“I remember one play like it was yesterday. A receiver ran a fly pattern and your daddy hit him in the hands from fifty yards. It was some throw.”
Sam felt a surge of pride.
“Let me tell you something else. The best quarterback I ever had, he couldn’t throw a lick compared with your daddy.”
Sam frowned. He didn’t trust quarterbacks who couldn’t throw. “He must have been fast.”
Coach smiled. “He could run but not that fast. Five seconds flat for the forty.”
“Then why was he so good?”
“That boy understood what football was all about, the same thing that made this country great.”
Coach paused.
“What?”
“It’s simple. But just because it’s simple doesn’t mean it’s easy. If it was, everyone would be doing it. Everyone would be a winner.” Coach picked up the pen. “If I called a running play, that boy would hand off to the fullback and block for him like a boy twice his size. Put his body on the line every time if I asked him to. He didn’t care how we got into the end zone or what play we ran, just as long as we did. And at the end of the game he’d be bloody and tired and sore, but he could look at himself in the mirror, win or lose, and be proud.”
Coach looked into Sam’s eyes. ‘That’s all I ask of you, Sam. If you can look inside yourself and know you’ve done your best, not for yourself but for your team, then you’re a winner. In my book, in America’s, and in God’s. That’s all there is to it. I’m an old man now and I have no regrets, but there’s only one thing I’d like to do if I could go back in time. And that’s play football. That feeling of everyone being together, individual cogs all working to make one, well-oiled machine, having teammates I’d lay down and die for, and knowing they’d do the same for me. I’ll never get over that feeling as long as I live. I just hope there’s football in heaven. That’s all I hope.”
Sam left the office and Coach Hayes twirled the pen. The speech had come back to him like blowing a whistle, which is hardly surprising seeing that he had given it hundreds, no, thousands, of times. He hoped this would be the last.
The pen fell from his fingers and landed on the floor and the coach didn’t try and bend down to get it. He felt old. He’d watched a dozen presidents come and go, he’d been in a real war, a cold war, and a war on terror, and he’d lived through the innocent, rebellious, and greedy years. He didn’t trust his body anymore and he wasn’t sure whether he trusted the creed of sacrifice that he’d dedicated his life to following, in the nation, and notion, that was America.
chapter 29
The week prior to the Shooters/Armadillos game was always a tense one for the towns of Hope and Denham. Even if your house straddled the border, it was impossible to sit on the fence and support both teams, or you’d be treated as a double agent. In the diner where Ozzie, Angela, Unity, Sam, Jose, Tex, and Malivai sat, the window sills were painted black and white, and streamers hung from the ceiling. You wouldn’t find many Denham supporters drinking coffee here.
The students were waiting for a photo shoot. In years past the mayors of Hope and Denham had a longstanding bet about the game, which involved the losing mayor having to wear the winning team’s jersey for a week. After the fights over district lines and twelve straight wins for Denham, Mayor Green put an end to that tradition. This year, however, with a district championship on the line, it was revived. And so the Hope Times and the Denham Statesman had organized a photo opportunity for the two mayors, so they could smile and shake hands while wearing high-school football jerseys that barely covered their fat stomachs, surrounded by players and cheerleaders from both towns.
But the mayors were late. Their respective personal assistants kept phoning, asking if the other mayor had arrived yet, and when the reporters said no, each mayor suddenly had to attend to urgent matters of local government.
“Man, those guys are big,” said Jose, looking through the window at the Denham players.
“They’re not that big,” said Tex.
Ozzie had to agree with Jose. They were huge. He recognized a few of them from the pool and he couldn’t help but remember what they promised to do next time they saw him. He decided to change the subject. “Did they get their trophy back yet?”
Unity shook her head. “Their princi
pal is freaking out. Apparently, the glass in the cabinet wasn’t even broken.”
“Which makes it an inside job,” said Jose.
Six pairs of eyes were trained on Angela. She smiled. “Why y’all looking at me?”
“You did go to school there …” said Malivai.
“And have friends who own a master key,” said Unity.
“I hope you use it as a toilet,” Sam said.
Tex laughed.
Angela gave a little smile. “As I told Mr. Fraser, I’m happy to take a lie detector test.”
“I’ve read that those things can be beaten,” said Jose. “But only by professionals.”
“Angela’s a pro all right,” said Sam. “Just ask Austin.”
Tex laughed.
“Sam!” Unity punched her boyfriend.
Ozzie thought it was time for another subject change. “Who started this stuff between the schools?”
“Denham,” said Tex. “They suck.”
Unity elaborated. “On Sunday night five armadillos were let go inside our cafeteria.”
Ozzie squinted.
“Animals, not players,” she said.
“Oh,” said Ozzie.
The group chuckled and Unity continued. “Then some Hope students set off firecrackers on their playground, which caused a huge panic.”
“Why?” asked Ozzie.
“Two words, my Australian friend.” Tex held his thumb and pointer finger in the shape of a gun. “School shooting.”
“The easiest way to become famous in this country is to walk into a crowded room with a gun.” Jose shook his head. “It’s the American dream gone wrong.”
“I’ll tell you my American dream,” said Tex. “Find the pricks who painted the Armadillos’ logo on our locker-room wall.”
“Yeah, that was nasty,” said Malivai. “Two nights ago, wasn’t it?”
“Yep,” answered Unity. “But stealing the district trophy from Denham is even nastier.”
Everyone looked at Angela again.
“Stop it!”
“Does this happen every year?” asked Ozzie.
“Not this bad,” said Unity.
“That’s because this time we’ve actually got a chance,” said Jose.
“We’ve got more than a chance,” said Tex. “We’re gonna knock ’em on their asses.”
“Is your shoulder okay?” Angela asked Tex.
Tex shrugged. “Nothing a needle won’t fix.”
Malivai put a hand on Tex’s shoulder. “You might be the new ‘Shrimp.’”
Everyone, except for Ozzie, chuckled.
“Shrimp was this great Shooters’ running back who broke his leg in the Armadillo game,” Jose explained. “He not only kept playing but went on to score three touchdowns. It was years ago, but in Hope, he’s still the man.”
“Hasn’t paid for a beer since,” said Tex. “I’d take his place, any day.”
“’Cept you’ll be called ‘Whale,’” said Malivai.
Tex tried to cuff him around the head but Malivai ducked out of the way.
The teenagers were called outside. The mayors had finally arrived, after the reporters had told both of them that the other had shown up.
“Their cheerleaders are cute,” said Sam, as they walked out.
Unity hit him. “They’re not that cute.”
The Hope and Denham players were introduced to each other by the respective mayors. After giving his ex-girlfriend a hug, the Denham captain squeezed Ozzie’s hand so hard that it started throbbing. “What I said before will happen at the game,” he said. “And that’s a promise.”
The other Armadillos smirked.
At the Friday morning pep rally the band played louder, the cheerleaders jumped higher, and the students yelled longer than they had all year. The first thing Coach McCulloch did was to ask for the stolen trophy to be placed outside his office sometime over the weekend. “There’ll be no questions asked,” he said. “We need it safe because we want to be drinking out of that thang next week.”
Despite his piss-poor effort last time, Ozzie was called out front to address the school. He looked at his shoes when he talked. “Hello. Umm, tonight’s an important game, and if we win it’d be, umm, real good.”
Ozzie wondered what he was doing there, when for some reason he raised his head and looked into the crowd. People were hanging on his every word. It was like everything he said had a deeper meaning, like everything he said was true. He stood up straight and kept looking, into eyes that wanted to see, and Ozzie himself started to believe.
“When I left Australia I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I sure wasn’t expecting this. It’s like … I love Australia, but Hope, it’s real good, and America, it’s real good, too, and … I’m not sure I want to go home.”
Some kids laughed but most nodded their heads.
“No matter what happens tonight, I promise to do my best, because I love playing football for this team. I know that all the blokes, I mean, guys, love playing for the school and for the whole town. We’re all fired up and we’d like nothing more than to bring y’all a victory tonight!”
Ozzie raised his arms when he said the last bit and the students stood and clapped and stamped their feet.
Unity hugged him first, then Angela, and even Sam shook Ozzie’s hand as he made his way back to his seat.
“Well said, man,” said Sam. “Well said.”
Hope to Choose Homecoming Queen
By Lydia Sales
TIMES Education Writer
Four excited girls are nominees for this year’s homecoming queen. Unity Summer-Andrews, Angela Janus, Leesa Gray, and Braidie Reilly make up the Queen’s Court, and the winner will be crowned during half-time at the Shooters versus Denham football game.
Summer-Andrews is favored to win, but a few experienced observers say that newcomer Janus might spring a surprise. “I think the judges will be impressed by her openness,” said a former queen, Nancy Graham. “She’s an active member of the church and a delightful young lady.”
According to Janus, “Winning’s not everything. Of course I’d love to win, but it’s an honor just to be nominated. I just can’t wait for the homecoming dance!”
Most students feel the same way, and the Hope High gymnasium is expected to be rocking on Saturday night to the sounds of local band Good Habits. Prizes will be awarded for the best costumes.
The Hope homecoming celebrations have a long tradition stretching back to the early 1900s. It was seen as a weekend for men who left small towns seeking work to “come home.” Many former Shooters football stars will return to Hope to watch the game, including Chad Barnes and Tim “Shrimp” Ward.
chapter 30
Before the game, trainers taped ankles, coaches tapped laptop keyboards, and Malivai was joined by a surprising number of teammates in the bathroom, emptying their guts. No one said much until fifteen minutes before kickoff, when Coach McCulloch called the team into a huddle.
“I don’t know about y’all, but I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time,” Coach said. “Ever since I got here, all I’ve heard is Armadillos this and Armadillos that, and I’m sick of it. This year we’re as good as them, and don’t any of you not believe it.”
“Yes, sir,” said a few of the players.
“I don’t need to tell you that this is a game you’ll remember for the rest of your lives. Now, how you remember it is gonna be up to you. It’ll either be something you look back on with pride, or something you’ll try your damn hardest to forget.”
Coach paused for a few seconds. “If every link of the chain is strong, it can’t be broken.” He paused again. “If every link of the chain is strong, it can’t be broken.” He pointed to the boys.
“If every link of the chain is strong, it can’t be broken!” they chorused.
“AGAIN!”
“IF EVERY LINK OF THE CHAIN IS STRONG, IT CAN’T BE BROKEN!”
“Yes.” Coach spoke more quietly. “Yes. Don’t jus
t say it. Do it!” He picked at a scab on his arm. “Captains?”
Tex went first. “Let’s work our asses off out there. No matter how tired we are, how much we’re hurting, let’s keep going until either they kill us or we kill them. For this one night, let’s have no excuses.”
Malivai spoke softly. “I’ve been hearing that it’s impossible to score against these guys. That their defense is too strong. Well, I’m gonna score. I don’t care if I have to run around the whole team to do it. Defense, keep them under twenty points and I promise the offense will do its job.”
“Sam?” asked Coach McCulloch.
Sam stood, a football in hand. He was about to say something but stopped.
“We don’t have a whole lot of time,” said Coach.
Then Sam did something no one expected. He threw an underarm pass, Rugby League–style, to Ozzie.
The whole team shifted their gaze to Ozzie as he clutched the ball. He didn’t say anything, just bit his bottom lip and stared at the ceiling.
“Austin?” said Coach, looking at his watch.
Ozzie looked at the team. “Just remember, fellas. It’s only a bloody game.” He threw an overarm pass back to Sam.
This is it, folks, what we’ve all been waiting for. Twenty thousand people crammed into Shooter Stadium about to find out the one thing they came for—who’s gonna have bragging rights for 365 long Texas days.
With forty seconds left to play, Coach McCulloch has called his last time-out, so let’s recap what’s happened so far.
The Denham Armadillos have been ahead all game, but the Shooters have refused to go away. Denham scored first with a five-yard sweep and the Shooters hit back with an incredible fifty-yard touchdown by Malivai Thomas, the ball passing through six sets of hands before Sam Wilson delivered the final lateral in a new-look Line Formation. A crossing pattern got Bobby Blake over the line for Denham and it looked as though they might blow the game wide open, but back came the Shooters with a thirty-five-yard touchdown pass by Wilson into the waiting arms of Jose Garcia. The Armadillos were knocking on the door all third quarter but only came away with a field goal, and now it’s Hope’s chance to steal the ball game.