Date: Fri, 26 Aug 2016 18:16:47 -0500 From: Eric Trager Subject: It Is What It Is: Chapter 25 Please don't forget to donate to Nifty if you enjoy reading the stories! Email feedback can be sent to trager2275@gmail.com. © 2015 by Eric Trager. Yahoo group: https://groups.yahoo.com/IIWIICHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE Brett arrived at the Alamo and Sean escorted him to the patio. Andy and John were busy studying. John had his History of World War II test coming up and Andy schooled his younger brother in the whys and wherefores of such arcane things as the rise of Adolf Hitler to become the Dictator of Germany after the death of President Hindenburg, the Annexation of Austria to Germany, the Munich Conference, the pacifism of the British Empire under Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain and a host of other things which might bore others but with which Andy and John were totally fascinated. "How come you know all this shit?" John asked. "I read. I love to read and most people don't know that about me," Andy replied. "I learned a lot of shit just by reading it myself. One thing leads to the next and before ya know it ya know a lot of shit. Don't play Trivial Pursuit with me - I'll kick your ass." On the patio, Sean asked Brett what was up. "I dunno, Wymo. Anyway, I'm gonna tell you something and I just want to know what you think. Like if you think I have anything to be worried about, or whatever...." "OK, I'm fucking clueless," Sean said. "So are you gonna tell me, or do I hafta fucking guess here...." "It has to do with that Trager guy. Tim went out to lunch with him today and I guess it was fine. They decided to be friends again. I mean, I don't want Tim dragged down by some old grudge from a million years ago so I don't care if they're friends but here's the deal...." "Let's have it, Dowls...." "Well, see, those two each had a crush on each other a few years back and Tim says he doesn't know if they both have it out of their system. I said it was OK for him to have sex with Trager but only if we had a three-way." Sean almost spit out his drink. This sounded like a total replay of the conversation he'd had with Andy earlier that day. "OK, that's it?" Sean asked looking somewhat like he'd been told something really boring. "Well, that and I really don't wanna lose Tim. I know that's dumb, but I've never known anyone like him and I doubt I ever will. I know I'm being stupid, but I just don't wanna lose him. I feel like an idiot...." "Well, you shouldn't feel like an idiot, butcha might wanna think this through a little bit." "How do you mean?" "Andy and I had almost the same conversation this afternoon about someone else, his lab partner in one of his classes...." "Who's that?" "Scott Branson." "I know Scott. I work with him at Woodmans. He's a nice guy." "It also turns out me and Scott are second cousins. I just found that out today. But Scott doesn't know if he's gay or not. He really likes Andy and I gotta say, I kinda like the guy, too." "So, what are you gonna do?" "Well, after we dropped Scott off we talked it over and we decided that if anything was gonna happen it would hafta wait until after football season is over. I mean, football's really our priority right now and we decided not to add any bullshit we don't need on top of that." "That's it? Like it was a business decision?" "Pretty much." "How can you guys just DO THAT?" "Look, Brett, Andy and I have known each other since we were six, or seven years old. We kinda grew up together in school and everything. His dad died when he was like eight years old and my mom died when I was thirteen. We leaned on each other through those times. We were best friends and we have a history, so sometimes when it comes to making a decision we just, ya know, do it. And that's fine, I mean it works for us anyway...." "So, like, what do you think I should do here? I mean, Tim and I don't have that history like you and Andy have. We haven't even really been together that long...." "OK, you asked me, and the answer is simple. You tell Tim the truth. You tell him you don't wanna lose him. Because ya don't. And trust me, he doesn't wanna lose you either. He thinks you're his savior." "He does?" Brett asked. "Yeah, he really does. And you know he does. He loves you so much, Brett. Then you tell him that whatever the final decision is on the Trager deal is that it has to wait until football season is over. And here's why: it's all just extraneous crap. This isn't going to break you and Tim up. No way. Not unless you're both fucking morons, and you're not. So, just fucking do like you said me and Andy did: make it a fucking business decision here." "How can you be so sure? I mean you say all this shit like you know it...." "It's because I DO know it. Look, I came into this town probably as what Tim thought was a threat to his position on the team. But, he never treated me that way. He was up-front with me from day one. Yeah, I know sometimes he gets tongue-tied and all that shit, but he's a what- you-see-is-what-you-get guy. He'll always come down on the side of what makes sense. You guys are engaged to be married. He'll never lie to you and he'll never hurt you. He'd rather cut his arm off." "I know. Now I feel like a total douche bag...." "You shouldn't. You love Tim enough to keep him forever, butcha also gotta love him enough to trust him forever. It's not too fine a point I don't think." "You're right. I feel a lot better. I don't think I'm gonna make a big deal out of this with Tim." "You shouldn't. You got nuthin' to worry about...." "I know I don't. You're right." "OK, so, we done here then Brett? I mean, done with this discussion?" "Yeah, I think so. You're unreal, Wymo. I mean, it's just like black and white with you." "Thanks, but trust me sometimes it's a blessing, and sometimes it's a curse. If I get it right at the start it's a blessing, and if I get it wrong it ain't. That's why I make sure I have full information before I make a judgment. But I'm right on this one: you and Tim are the real deal. And don't you forget that." "Thanks...." "Don't thank me. I need you with me, and I need Dix with me this season. We're gonna do it, I know we are. And I mean we're gonna go all the way. But shit like this between me and Andy and Scott, or between you and Dix and Trager, I mean if we do each other, it's just distractions right now. We don't need 'em, they're not important, and we shouldn't bother with 'em. There's no upside. So, if they're ever gonna happen, they can afford to wait until the season's done. Right?" "You're right...." Brett said, looking at the ground with an 'I've been stupid' look. "You know, Brett, you're adorable when ya give it the 'I've been stupid' look.... No wonder Dix fell in love with you. Anyway, of course I'm right. And if you think I need to, I'll have another talk with him about this whole thing. I'm tellin' ya again, though, don't you lose faith in Tim. He doesn't want anyone but you. Like I said, he thinks you saved him. And that's the truth. Because you did. And he fucking knows it." "I'll talk to Tim. I don't think you need to talk to him again. He'll probably get all tied up and stutter for a little while anyway. I'm not gonna force it. I'll talk to him when he brings it up, which he will. His dad said one time that Tim's 'earnest.' I guess that's a good word for him." "Yeah. It should've been his middle name," Sean laughed. "Well, I'm gonna take off then, Wymo. Thanks for letting me come over and make a complete twat out of myself...." "I think if you made yourself into a twat then you MIGHT have something to worry about," Sean teased. Brett laughed. "Thanks for the laugh, Wymo. OK, I'm outta here. I'll see ya Monday then." After Monday's practice Coach Slater called the team to gather round. "Gentlemen, on the trip back from Madison Friday night I said that we'd begin the quest for perfection. I've been working on this for a little while now, but I've been able to put something together that will be of help in that endeavor. In fact, what I've put together is unprecedented in my years of coaching. "Beginning this Saturday, we will have a ninety-minute meeting every Saturday morning at 10:30. We will be meeting in the Small Auditorium. This will not be a practice, per se. At these meetings, we will have the advice and consultation of one current and two former NFL players. There will be a Quarterback who will work with our offensive backfield and special teams, a former Offensive Lineman who will work with both our offensive and defensive Linemen, and a former Linebacker who will work with our Linebackers and Defensive Backs. I want you to know that two of these gentlemen have an NFL Super Bowl ring each, and the third one has two. We will have their services by means of meetings over the internet. These men will not be appearing visually, but by audio only. They will critique our last week's game and will offer advice and be open to questions. "Gentlemen, I know of no other High School football team that's ever had this opportunity. I'm sure you will all take full advantage of it. I understand that you'll want to know who these gentlemen are. Part of the deal I made is that I cannot reveal their identities. Nor can I reveal how I was able to put this together. So don't ask. "These meetings are mandatory. For everyone. And you are not to tell anyone, even your parents, that these are anything other than meetings for the purpose of a chalk-talk. Not even Principal McVay knows the true nature. You will all recall, if you've ever paid attention in History class, Winston Churchill's quote 'truth is so precious that she should always be attended by a bodyguard of lies.' Any man who reveals the nature of these meetings will be cut from the team and I will disavow any knowledge. Period. I'm sure you all fully appreciate what I have just said." The entire team stood there with mouths agape. "I see there are no questions," Coach said. "Very well, gentlemen, you are dismissed." "Holy shit!" Sean said to Tim. "Did you fucking hear that? I mean, what the fuck? Dix, man, this is fucking HUGE! I mean, I dunno what to think here...." "Me either. I mean, who ever heard of anything like this?" "I sure haven't...." Brett came running up, "So, how significant is this? I mean, I don't even know anything about football other than what the coaches tell me to do...." "Dowls," Sean said, "This would be like if you went back in time a hundred years and someone showed you how to build a nuke. 'Huge' doesn't even describe it." "Wymo's right, hun...." Tim said. "OK, well, I just don't wanna cram my head with too much stuff so that it interferes with what little I already know how to do," Brett answered. "Don't overthink it, Brett," Tim said. "They're here to help so just absorb what you can. Even if it's only a little it's something no one else has." In the locker room, Tim broke away from the other two and ducked into Coach's office while no one was looking. "Coach, got a minute?" "Mr. Dickson. What can I do for your sweaty ass today?" "I'm wondering if you could have a word with Dowling. He seems to be apprehensive that these NFL guys will be too advanced for him and then he'll forget the fundamentals. You gotta remember he's never played before and doesn't even really know the game." "Hmmmm," Coach pondered. "I hear what you're saying. Say no more." "Thanks, Coach." "Anytime, Mr. Dickson." Coach waited until he knew that Tim was in the shower. He then got on the intercom. "Mr. Dowling, please report to Coach Slater's office when you're done showering. Mr. Dowling to Coach Slater's office." A few minutes later, Brett knocked on Coach's door. "Enter," Coach said. "You wanted to see me, Coach?" Brett said, thoroughly confused. "Yes I do, son. Please have a seat." Once seated, Coach began. "Mr. Dowling, before I say what I really have to say I need to let you know that as a Coach I'm impressed with the job you're doing and your work ethic. I realize you've never played football, or any organized sport, before and I want to let you know that it's rare to coach an athlete with your natural ability. That's the truth." "Thanks, Coach. I'm a little confused, though. I mean you must have something else you want to tell me...." "Yes, I do. Mr. Dickson seems a little bit concerned that you feel these NFL guys might overload you with stuff you don't know and knock you off your game on the fundamentals you've already mastered. Is there any truth to that?" "Well, yes, Coach. I mean, I've never played before. There's a lot I don't know yet. So far, I've just done the best I know how with what the coaches taught me. I'm a little scared that if I have too much information I'll start second-guessing myself and then make mistakes. I want to be an asset to the team, Coach." "Mr. Dowling, is there any truth to what I've heard that it's quite possible at graduation this Spring you will be the Valedictorian of your class?" "Yes...." "Very good. You should be proud of yourself. Let me offer you some advice. If you apply the same learning techniques with what is being offered by seasoned football professionals to what you already know about the game, and if you do it just like you've done in your academic endeavors, the same techniques that are gonna make you class Valedictorian, you won't have a problem. I understand why you might be questioning this and thinking it's too-much-too-fast, but I have confidence in you. As I said, it's rare to coach a player with your natural athletic ability and who is also as coachable as you are. If you ever find yourself in need of consultation you come see me. Anytime. My door is always open for you, son." "Thanks, Coach. I'll do that. I just have one other question...." "Fire away, Mr. Dowling." "Well, we're having these meetings on Saturdays, and you see I'm always on Saturdays at work. I've worked at Woodmans for two years now and I already had them cut back on my schedule because of practice and games. I don't know what they'd think if I asked again...." "Leave it me. I know Mr. Woodman. He's been a member of the Athletic Boosters club before I was even at this school. It won't be a problem. In fact, if I asked him to lay you off you could collect unemployment for the rest of the season and not lose too much of your income." "Coach, I think it would be fine if you talked to Mr. Woodman, but I don't want to be laid off. I don't want to collect money from taxpayers I don't know when I've done nothing to earn it. It wouldn't be fair to them. I can pay my own way. Besides, I'm the one who decided to play football, not them. Maybe if he'd just agree to a leave of absence until the season's over?" "Consider it done, son. I think that will be all for now." "Thanks, Coach, and I really mean that." Brett then proceeded to his locker to gather his book bag. He then went to look for Tim. Finding Tim waiting at the locker room door as was their custom, Brett smiled, saying, "Thanks, you.... Coach just pulled me into his office and I think I'll be OK with this. I really do." "I'm glad you talked to Coach. He won't steer you wrong. Let's walk over to my place. I think I'd like to get a little tag-team in with my favorite WIDE RECEIVER if ya know what I mean...." "You read my mind, Tim.... I'll even line up in the shotgun formation for ya," Brett quipped. Tim took Brett's hand, looked over at him and said in a serious tone, "I love you and only you. No more business about Trager until the season's done. And when the season's done I will still love you and only you. I will always love you and only you." "Thank you," Brett said, giving Tim a quick peck on the cheek. For the rest of the guys nothing much important happened that evening. Joe Wyman let his three sons know that he'd heard from George Dickson that afternoon and that the Rock County Court had denied bail to Jane Berrifield. In addition, she'd been transferred to Mendota State Hospital in Madison for psychiatric observation and would likely be there through the duration of her trial. Joe said that according to George they had no control over anything at the State level as it was his experience, as one would expect of anything involving State government, that things were ruled by red tape and petty bureaucrats, but that there was little realistic chance of an immediate release for her. He also reported that at the hearing Mr. Berrifield was not at all happy about his wife being confined at Mendota and that the Judge refused Mrs. Berrifield's Attorney's motion to have Jane transferred to a private hospital in Kenosha. The remainder of the school week passed without incident as well. Andy had convinced Coach to bring J.R. on as his Assistant Manager. The younger boy proved invaluable to Andy as he was able to fetch Gatorade for the players, towels, and assist the team in ways Andy couldn't yet due to his injuries. Andy was hopeful, though, as he secured an appointment for the next week with Dr. Schroeder to see if he couldn't get the leg braces reduced to splints. The players took to J.R. as if he was like a cute, little brother. He took his responsibilities with the team as seriously as he did his studies. While John was genuine in his conscientious discharge of his duties, he also knew that some of these guys would be able to help him get places in life. He was, as ever, both a diligent worker yet a little insecure about the fact that he'd been handed out of nowhere a chance at a better life. A chance that he was not about to let slip away because he knew what the consequences would be if he did. In that way, he was a boy older than his fifteen years. Joe Wyman sometimes teased him that he was fifteen going on fifty, but at the same time let him know that he was proud of his efforts and that he would be pleased to call him his son when the Court approved the adoption. At practice on Thursday, Coach was pleased that his team showed improving cohesiveness and skill even over the high level they already had. He knew that the upcoming game against the Middleton Cardinals would be a much rougher test for his men than last week's game where they'd basically toyed with the, in Coach Slater's eyes, disgustingly unsportsmanlike and unprepared Madison LaFollette team. He asked Andy to keep a special eye on the running total for the season of the difference between the points the Cougars scored versus the points they gave up. It was something that in the end Coach felt might make a difference if it came to it. Coach Slater was not leaving any stone unturned. Not with this year's team. Coach did not deliver his usual Thursday-before-a-game speech that afternoon. He deliberately kept his remarks short. "Men, this will be short for a Thursday post-practice talk. I'll have more to say on the way to Middleton tomorrow. I just want you all to know that it's tough for me to think of you as High School guys any more. I shake my head and I don't know what to say. And I get a lump in my throat that I'd have the good fortune to coach this team. We have our game plan. You have it down. You all know what to do. Men, go home and get a good night's sleep. Dismissed." The team hustled into the locker room and as they did a van pulled up from WKOW-TV in Madison. A young reporter and a camera man jumped out and made their way toward Coach Slater. "Coach, Becky Woczak, Channel 27 Madison. Do you have a minute?" "A minute, or two, sure. What's can I do for you? I wasn't expecting the media at a routine practice...." Coach said a little surprised, but also a little wary. He knew the Madison press. He turned his iPhone on audio record. "Coach, tomorrow your team plays Middleton. Will it be your game plan to run up the score like you did against LaFollette?" "Our game plan is to win." "Some people in Madison are saying that it wasn't necessary to try to humiliate LaFollette. What do you say, Coach?" "I'm not sure I can answer your question unless I'd know who you're quoting." "I have the LaFollette Coach on record as saying that." "I haven't heard that. If that's what Coach thinks, he knows he can contact me directly any time and we'll have a conversation as professional peers." "Are you evading the question, Coach?" "Not at all. What I am saying is that if there is something someone in Madison wants to know all they have to do is call and ask. It's not necessary to send a TV crew down here." "What would you say about your team's play in last week's game?" "I'd say for the first game of the season they played well." "Do you have anything to say about the run-up of the score? Was that necessary?" "Do you have the game statistics in front of you?" "Not right at my fingertips right now, Coach...." "That's alright. I do. Now, I'm not going to talk about points, or yards or anything like that because those are things that no one knows what they'll end up being until the final whistle blows. Like Yogi Berra said it ain't over 'til it's over. What I'd like to talk about, however, is penalties. There were four unsportsmanlike conduct penalties against LaFollette during the game. In all my years of coaching I've never seen that happen in one game. The first one was called when one of my men was taunted about his sexual orientation. That has no place on the football field, or anywhere else for that matter. The second one was a personal foul that could have resulted in an injury to the same player and thank God it didn't. On the third one, our Quarterback was hit late after he'd thrown the ball. Again, that could have resulted in an injury to one of our men. Players in any Middle School program that I'm familiar know better than that. The fourth one resulted in the ejection of one of the LaFollette players from the game. "Against that, our men had zero penalties. Not one penalty in the entire game. For anything. They went to Madison to play football and to play it by the rules. That's what they did. They don't deserve a medal for it because that's what they're supposed to do, but they've worked too hard to put up with that kind of nonsense. And I gotta be honest with you, if I were them I wouldn't put up with it, either. The score that was tallied at the end of the game? Well, Becky, it is what it is. They won the game fair and square. Now, I thank you for coming down today, but this is all the time I have. If you have anything else, please feel free to call me in my office tomorrow, or send me an email." "That's all you have to say Coach?" "Yes that's all I have to say other than this: our team this year is made up of exceptional young men. There are talented veteran players, sure. For example, we're lucky enough to have two experienced Quarterbacks, but instead of wasting time fighting with each other over who's Number One they figured out it was better to work together for the benefit of the team. That's a mark of maturity. We've got another player who's never played the game before, but he's got a work ethic, an attitude and athletic ability that puts most other people to shame. Our Team Manager walks on crutches because he's got a broken leg but he's out there busting his ass every day. Our Assistant Manager is a Mexican kid who was left for dead in a ditch on some country back road. These are the guys on our team and I'm proud to be their Coach. I stand behind them a hundred percent. If they won a game, they earned it and it's not important what the score was. A W's a W if it's by one point, or a hundred. Now...this really IS all the time I have today." With that, Coach began to turn away from the reporter but stopped abruptly. "Cut your camera and microphone," Coach Slater said. "What?" the reporter asked, looking confused. "I said cut your camera and microphone." Becky then motioned the cameraman to power the equipment off. "Churchill!" Coach called out to Andy who was not yet in the locker room. "Over here!" Andy scrambled over as fast as he could. "Yeah, Coach...." "Get out your cell phone and video this." "Um, OK.... Go ahead...." "There has just been a lengthy interview between myself and the reporter here, Becky Woczak from WKOW in Madison. I withhold permission for this interview to be aired unless it is both with my written permission and my Attorney having reviewed what will be aired at least forty- eight hours in advance. If the interview is aired without both of the foregoing, then Ms. Woczak and WKOW can expect a lawsuit. I have audio taped the entire interview on my iPhone. Andy, send a copy of this video to me. Also send one to Attorney George Dickson." "That isn't necessary, Coach," Becky said, looking like she knew she'd bitten off more than she could chew. "It is," Coach replied coldly. "I don't really know the real reason for your trip here today and I don't want to know, but after the stunt that was just pulled, I'm afraid that I trust you exactly as far as I can urinate. We're done. Let's go, Churchill." Coach Slater left the reporter standing in the school parking lot seething, embarrassed, but also knowing she'd made a fool out of herself. She instructed the camera man to destroy the video and that they'd tell station management that they had failed to locate Coach Slater. Friday went quickly and before anyone knew it, it was time again for the team to board the buses. This time the trip was to Middleton, a suburb of Madison. The trip would take a little longer than it had the previous week. The mood among the players on the bus was quiet and confident. Again, Coach Slater selected Dix to start the game with Sean calling the plays. Both Quarterbacks went over the game plan as well as the contingencies they'd come up with in case things didn't go totally to plan. "I think we got this, Dix. We know their D-line is stronger than LaFollette's but that in the defensive backfield they're only just OK. I'm guessing this is gonna turn out to be a passing game. We gotta test the ground game, though. We gotta see what our O-line can do against a reasonable opponent. I think on our first series the first play out of the box should be the power sweep. That play's a good test all the way around. Make sure the O-line knows in advance that's the play I'm gonna call. We'll put it in the air on the second play." "Sounds good," Dix said. "Now if we win the toss, you think we should receive, or defer?" "I say let's receive. Let's just get the fuckin' show on the road." "I agree, Dix. Let's just git 'er done...." In the event, the Cougars did win the toss and did elect to receive. Sean, as he said he would do, called the power sweep as the first play. The Craig offense executed flawlessly, but Middleton had stronger Linebackers than LaFollette did and instead of gaining a touchdown, the result was a twelve-yard gain. The remainder of the game turned into a slug-fest on the line of scrimmage, and as Sean predicted the majority of the Craig offense was passing. Both Sean and Tim held off on some of their more exotic plays in this game, electing to mostly go with a conventional offense. The Craig defense proved up to the task and when the final buzzer sounded the Cougars again came victorious, this time by the score of 35-17. On the way back to Janesville, Coach gave the team the news that Madison West won their second game as well, but in a shock outcome they'd been forced into overtime against Beloit Memorial who hadn't been expected to field a strong team. Coach spent some time critiquing the evening's play and overall said he'd give tonight's effort a B+. "We're never gonna shut out every team every game we play, and tonight you scored twice as many points as the Cardinals, but there were a few areas in tonight's game that need work, gentlemen. I expect we'll talk about that tomorrow morning when we meet. As it stands now, we've scored 106 points while giving up 17. I'll take that any day, guys...." One back in town, Sean and Andy invited a few of the guys over, Tim and Brett included. Sean texted Joe to let him know they'd be having company. Joe answered back that the boys should use the patio and said there was beer in the patio bar fridge if they wanted to have one, or two each. Once on the patio, Andy disappeared into the house returning in a few minutes. "Hey, guys, I got just a bit left over from Kenosha days. Anyone up for smoking a doob?" None of the boys were prudes when it came to that sort of thing, so they enjoyed Andy's hospitality. Andy had always been known for rolling fat, perfectly cylindrical joints. Tim commented on the symmetry of Andy's "Spliff," which Andy corrected by saying he always referred to them as "Cannons." The only one out of all of them that had never got stoned before was Brett. Brett wasn't the shy, nerdy boy anymore that he once was. In fact, having made the football team did wonders for Brett's self-confidence in social situations. It hadn't changed him as a person at all, but it had turned a gangly, somewhat quiet boy into a man in more ways than one. Brett became silly and goofy as one might expect of a person who experiences a marijuana buzz for the first time, at one point pulling his t-shirt over his head and announcing that he was Cornholio and needed T.P. for his bunghole. Tim, while roaring with laugher admonished Brett to be a little quieter at which point Brett put his glasses on which he seldom wore as he had contact lenses, looked at Tim in the most serious way and did an uncanny imitation of Hillary Clinton which brought the house down by flailing his arms and demanding, "What difference at this point, Timothy Dickson, does it make!" He then went back to being Cornholio for a few more minutes again cracking everyone up by saying to Tim, "He-He-He shut up and fuck me, dumbass!" Cunningham side-mouthed to Tim, "Dix, that's the best thing we ever did was get Dowls on the team. Not only is he a riot, but he's a fuckin' awesome dude...." "Ya don't hafta tell me twice, Cunns." "Of course it's the best fuckin' thing you fuckin' fuckers ever did!" Brett laughed. "Oh, so ya thought I couldn't hear ya now didja there.... Well, I can hear everything you fuckin' say. So there! Yeah, I'm fuckin' awesome just like a Lesbian in a Subaru with Birkenstocks. I mean who else but ME, the queer boy, can bat down every pass.... I'm a fuckin' ballerina, Cunns!" Brett then stuck his tongue out at Cunningham and gave him the finger while dissolving in another fit of laughter. "Hey, Wymo, you got anything to eat? I got the munchies.... You got any Fudgsicles? I want like four of 'em 'cause I'm a fudge packer.... I'm a fun fudgie...." "Stop! FUCKING STOP!" Trent Westfahl gasped, out of breath from laughing. "If you don't shut up, Dowls, I'm gonna piss my fucking pants over here!" "Well, maybe ya should. You walk like you got a stick up your ass anyway...." Brett retorted. "Is anyone taping this?" Sean asked. "If not, we fucking missed the best comedy I've ever seen!" Brett proceeded to drink the rest of his beer and settled down for the rest of the evening. Tim, while never having seen his boyfriend act like that was, in some little way, proud of him. Even though Tim fell in love with Brett that day at the mall not long ago, he'd seen Brett grow tremendously as a person in just that short time. To Tim it was amazing. And he knew he had Brett to thank for the changes he'd been able to make himself. For now, he'd take his guy home for the night so they could get a good night's sleep before the team meeting tomorrow morning. "Brett, you were the life of the party tonight. I never seen you loosen up like that. I gotta tell ya, flipping off Cunns was like the funniest thing I ever saw...." Tim smiled, ruffling Brett's hair. "Cunns is a funny shit," Brett giggled. "Hey, you guys got any Fudgsicles at home?" "What the fuck it is with Fudgsicles?" Tim laughed. "I think we should blow some weed every now and then, hun. You get really trippy. It's hilarious!" "I could see that. I mean, I feel so fucking relaxed right now. Wanna know what I'm thinking about?" "I dunno, do I?" "I'm thinking about Calculus. I mean, I can really see it all in front of me like it's in 3D." "WHAT?" "Yeah, like everything in the whole book. Maybe I can just see if I can test out of the rest of the class!" "They'll never let ya do that!" "I'm gonna fuckin' ask. Fuck 'em.... Then I could help Cass with his anti-bullying project. I mean, Math is Math. Ya either know it, or ya don't. If I know it, then I can do something useful with that time. Yeah, I'm gonna see about that. I have open campus anyway. I don't need to be in the building when I don't have a class." "Will you fuck me when we get home?" "Yeah, but let's fuck in the back yard." "IN THE BACK YARD?" "Yeah, if your mom and dad are out for the evening, let's screw on the grass. It's not like we didn't fuck at the golf course...." "You got a deal." And so it was that Brett fucked Tim's ass in the Dickson's back yard. Brett was not in a tender loving mood that night, and he took his man and ravaged him. Tim, for his part, wondered how he could engineer a repeat performance. Saturday morning the entire Varsity football team in dribs and drabs shuffled into the school building. When the school was built in 1954, it was built with a large auditorium built to seat 2,500 people and fully equipped for anything up to and including live stage productions. The small auditorium held 300 and was used for smaller lectures, seminars and the like. It was perfect for what Coach had planned. Promptly at 10:30, Coach locked the doors to the auditorium and took the roll call. "I see everyone managed to show up this morning. Good. Some of you appear as if you may have been a bit over-served last night. Now, I don't have anything against malt beverages, don't get me wrong, but I expect you to use your heads, gentlemen. We've got a tall order and a long season ahead of us. I want you to absorb that. Very well, I see the audio feeds are up, so let's begin." For the next ninety minutes the anonymous NFL veterans critiqued the High School team's play. The initial reviews were that the team overall was excellent, but areas for improvement were isolated and a strategy to begin to correct these areas was hashed out. Specific areas noted were the Offensive Line needed work on their stances to enhance their quickness, the ball snapping between Center and Quarterback needed to be a bit less obvious to the opposing defense and the spacing of the Linebackers on defense needed improvement in anticipation of what was the most likely play the opposing offense would choose. They also recommended that the team assign one person to attempt to decipher the opposing team's play calling signals noting that a person who was good at it could figure it out within two, or three series of downs. The pros highlighted the performance of both Quarterbacks, were surprised to learn that Coach Slater didn't call the offensive plays, and they singled out Brett for his performance in the defensive backfield, being doubly surprised he'd never played before. They wanted to see Brett getting a bit more physical with the Receivers he was covering, though, noting that to do so would dramatically increase the chances of yielding turnovers. They took questions from the Craig players and gave pointed answers, noting that they'd also be looking to see how much of their advice the team was absorbing each week going forward. One of the pros said that he discounted the win against LaFollette in a way because it was clear they were playing a team that, as Coach Slater thought, was undisciplined and poorly coached. As for the performance against Middleton, he thought they acquitted themselves well. As it turned out, the same man had also got a hold of the game tape of Madison West versus Beloit Memorial. It was his opinion that while West also had a powerhouse team, with work there was enough time left in the season to turn some of West's perceived advantages into disadvantages. He noted, for example, that even though he'd seen West play only one game, and their offensive line was formidable, their offensive play calling seemed to be somewhat predictable and they didn't look like they had the offensive playbook arsenal that Craig did. He noted he had never seen a High School team execute the power sweep well at all, never mind do it almost flawlessly. When the time was up, Coach thanked them for their professional advice and said on behalf of the team that they all looked forward to next week's meeting. Coach then admonished the team to remain behind, laughing that they couldn't leave until he unlocked the doors anyway. "So, I'm looking for some feedback, gentlemen...." Sean raised his hand. "OK, Wyman, what'd ya think?" "I'm totally blown away, Coach. All the stuff we practice, yeah, but just listening to those guys, I can really see everything they're saying." One by one several other team members echoed Sean's thoughts. Tim asked how they were going to revamp the practice sessions in order to take advantage of the advice they were given. "Good question, Mr. Dickson. You will all be pleased to know that I had advance warning of some of what they were going to tell you. I've asked all of the Coaches to come up with plans. The Coaching Staff will review those plans and refine them on Monday. We should be ready to go with at least some of it for Monday's practice, and have a strategy fully implemented by the end of the week. We will continue to refine it as we go along and based on the advice we get. It's not something we can do in a day, but I promise you we'll do it as fast as we can. Now, as you know, we have Sun Prairie this week and we play at home. I'd rate Sun Prairie as about equal to Middleton. That'll be a good measure of where we are. Very well, if there is nothing else gentlemen?" No one indicated that there was. "Thank you all for coming. It shows your dedication. I'll see you all Monday." On leaving the building, Sean, Andy, Tim, Brett and J.R. agreed they were hungry, so instead of going their own separate ways they simply walked over to the unoriginally named Italian House restaurant that abutted the school grounds. Although the name was unoriginal, the restaurant had great, all house-made food and was a popular spot with the Craig student body. The brick interior was written over on every square inch with student's initials from years and years. Tim asked the waitress if she would bring over one of the magic markers used to sign the wall. "These three guys are new and haven't signed. We'll get 'em to decorate the wall right now!" "Sure, thing, hun," the waitress replied. "I'll bring it with your drinks." "Wow, look at all these names and dates. Here's someone from 1975!" Andy said. "Here's one from 1977...." J.R. pointed out. "I got one from 1980...." Sean said. "Lemme show ya this one!" Tim said. "See here?" "Yeah, so?" Andy said. "Know whose initials those are?" "Um, no...." "They belong to the Speaker of the United States House of Representatives," Tim answered. "Wow, really?" "Yeah, and he lives not too far from you. I'm sure you'll meet him sometime. He's a decent guy, too. I know him from our church. He doesn't like to be called 'Mr. Speaker,' he just goes by his first name...." By that time, the waitress had returned with the guys' drinks and food and he magic marker. "OK, gimme that! I'll sign first!" J.R. said, and he put his initials and year, JW '16, on the wall. Sean and Andy followed with their SW '15 and AC '15. The boys then proceeded to eat their lunch, hash out what they thought they had to look forward to in upcoming practices and talk about the game plan for the upcoming Sun Prairie game. "Hey, and don't forget Parker's the week after that!" Tim said. "You guys are still havin' the party, right?" "Yeah, we can have our cook get us the stuff we need and make some of it in advance," Sean said. "We'll have dad make sure we got a keg, and all the rest of that crap. Oh, and you guys invite your parents, too." "Mine, too?" Brett asked. "Of course yours, too. Dumbass!" Andy said, playing with what was left of his pizza. "Hey, I'm the one that discovered you at the Mall. You think we're leaving your mom and dad out of a party?" "OK, well, they'll be there!" "OK, so we got Sun Prairie, then Parker. Week after that we got Tremper, and then's Homecoming the week after that. Wymo, who do you think should start the Tremper game?" "I dunno, I been thinking about that. We gotta play there. I'm gonna get booed no matter what. Prolly a lot. I almost think it'd be better if I started the game just to get that shit over with. Besides, I used to run their offense and I know exactly what their defense is gonna do. I think if we can get three TD's on the board then I could come out. Or I could play the whole first half, I dunno.... Why? What do you think?" "I don't care either way. It's just that you know how they play defense and I don't, but if you're in then I'll be calling the plays against a defense I don't know...." "Not sure that's gonna be a problem, Dix. Coach Johnson plays a standard 4-3 defense. His blitz packages aren't too fancy, either. We'll start out pretty basic, see how the O-line's handling them and just go from there. I see most of the guys from last year are back, so they must have worked that out. Their Quarterback is a Sophomore, so our D should have a pretty easy time, and they have a guy at Center who was on the Jayvee squad last year. I don't see their offense as being a huge factor in the game." "OK, well then, let's talk to Coach about it. It's a non-conference game so it doesn't really matter anyway. Now, as far as Parker goes, we won't have a problem. They don't train like we do, and to be honest with you their coach isn't as good as Slater is. The key to beating Parker is to get out in front right away. It psyches them out. You remember that, too, Brett. Parker's not as weak as LaFollette, but they're pretty weak. Try getting physical with their receivers to see what happens. It'll be good practice." "OK. Anyway, we should prolly get going here. SOME OF US have schoolwork to do, ya know...." Brett winked. The boys filed out, piled into their cars which were across the way at the school and went their separate ways. Beginning that Monday at practice, Coach Slater announced the revisions for practices. "Gentlemen, for this week here's how we're gonna practice: we'll have five minutes of warm- up, then fifteen minutes of conditioning drills. After that, we'll break into groups for an hour of skill practice. I audio-taped Saturday's meeting so if we need to refer to it we can. We'll finish up with another ten minute of conditioning and a five-minute cool-down. That's today and tomorrow. Wednesday, we'll have a mock scrimmage to see how we're doing on skills. Thursday will be a light workout with more skill drills. I've got the game plan drawn up, and you will all be emailed. At Quarterback, Mr. Wyman will start and Mr. Dickson will call the plays. Alright, let's get the show on the road here.... Mr. Wyman and Mr. Dickson, over here please." Tim and Sean hustled over to where Coach was standing unaware of what he wanted. "Alright, you two. I've got a surprise. It should be here in time for the Parker game." "What is it?" Sean asked. "It's a gift from an anonymous donor, you could say. We're going to fit both you guys out with the same equipment the pros use for offensive play calling. There will be a headphone set and you will each be issued two new helmets with communication gear built in. I've checked the WIAA equipment rules. The rules are silent on that, and I am not about to ask. The rules only specify that signals can be transmitted from the sidelines to players on the field, and that's what we'll be doing. The WIAA code doesn't rule in, or rule out any form of signal transmission so I see no rule breaking here. To me, it's a gift and we're going to take advantage of it. It'll mean basically that we can do new things with the no-huddle offense. That's where the real advantage will be. I mean, it's not like it's gonna make ya play any better...." "Well, um, like, I mean...." "Tongue-tied are we, Mr. Dickson?" Coach asked. "He wants to know who put up the money for it...." Sean said. "I can't believe how you two communicate, it must be that gaydar shit I read about," Coach chuckled. Anyway, is that what you wanted to know, Mr. Dickson?" "Yeah, that's um, that's like what I meant...." Tim said. "I am not at liberty to divulge the person's identity. Suffice it to say it's someone to whom that amount of money would probably constitute no more than a rounding error in their check book. I look at it this way: if the other teams want 'em, they're free to go get 'em." "When will we use them for the first time?" Sean asked. "I don't think we'll need them against Parker, or Tremper. But we're gonna practice with 'em as soon as we get 'em. If I could, I'd hold off using them in a game until we play Madison West, but we'll see. I'd probably like to have at least two games down with them before West. I don't want the most important game of the season to be the one where we're trying something we never used. I just wonder which other Coach is gonna make a stink about it. Mr. Dickson, your father advises me that they could make all the stink they want, but under the rules it's not prohibited." "Yeah, but it's not permitted, either," Sean said. "Wyman, you ever scratch your balls on the field in the middle of a game?" "Well...." "There's no mention in the rules of players scratching their balls on the field in the middle of a game, either." "Can't argue with that reasoning!" Sean laughed. "Very well, guys, let's get today's practice in the can and call it a day." As a team, the guys enjoyed the change-up in the practice format. It left them feeling less tired and more confident even though Coach did not forsake the conditioning drills. Coach Slater put great store in conditioning his players. Even in years when he was coaching a team not as talented as this year's, he knew that you'd win at least one extra game a season simply by having players that didn't tire out. And he made sure his players knew it, too. Slater was the type of man who didn't ask his players to do anything he wouldn't do, and who was a firm believer in explaining the 'whys' of what he was doing. By experience, he knew that eager young men respond positively to that kind of coaching. After practice, Brett approached Tim letting him know that he had his exam on Friday, game day, to test out of Calculus. "I can only test out of it with an A, because if I don't then I might not be Valedictorian. And if I pass but get less than an A then that's it - I passed and I can't go back. And whatever grade there is, is what goes on my record even if it's a C." "You sure you should do this?" "Yeah, look, whether, or not I'm Valedictorian is one thing, but helping Andy is another. I feel that's more important to me. And I feel it's something I want to do anyway. Besides, I'm gonna pass it with an A anyhow." "Ya think?" "Yeah. I went down to the Guidance office and I found out they keep old exams on file, so I copied off the Calculus final exams for the last six years and used that to practice off of. And they don't change much from one year to the next, either. It's like all the same types of equations only with different constants for the variables. Piece of cake. I mean, it basically comes down to you take a derivative and the party's over. I can do it, easy." "You know who ya need to let know about those old exams is Cass." "Cass?" "Yeah, he's in all AP classes this year and he never was before. I think that little bit of an advantage would help him out a lot. See, he's got a bet with Wymo that his grades will be at least as good. Now, I love Cass to death, but his academic stones aren't quite what Wymo's are. Wymo's just plain smart, like you. Cass is more like me." "Oh, yeah, you're so slow, Tim. I happen to know you're not, so cut the crap. I happen to know there's a chance that you might be Salutatorian. You don't ever tell anyone about that side of yourself." "Yeah, but I don't take all AP classes. Half of mine are regular, and it's not really the same if you ace one of those." "But still, Tim, you're smart. You'll have no trouble in College and Law School. I'll see to that!" "Yeah, I bet you will, too," Tim laughed. "Well, test out of that class and then you and Cass figure out what you're gonna do with that building Joe's gonna buy. I have some ideas for it, but I'm not gonna say unless someone asks me." "We'll ask, but just wait a while." Friday came and Brett sat for his Calculus exam. True to form, he took nowhere near the allotted time to finish it. For Brett, math was something that just happened. He turned his exam book in and asked his Teacher when he could expect to hear his grade. He was told that since he was done so early the exam would be graded on the spot and Brett should come back in fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes later on the dot, Brett returned to the classroom. "Well, how'd I do...." "Mr. Dowling, your score was...let me see...I just had it right here...where is it now...." "Oh, c'mon! I either aced it, or flagged it. Now which is it!" Brett demanded. The teacher laughed. "Brett, your score was a 98. That's an A+. One point less, and it would have been an A. We can't curve these. You passed, and you passed with enough to pretty much ensure that you'll be Valedictorian. You do realize that testing out of a year-long AP class so early in the year earns you an extra 0.25 grade point for this class, don't you?" "Wow! No one told me that! Anyway, do I get anything saying I passed and I'm done with the class?" "Yes, you will get an email later in the day, and you will have a letter sent to your home in about a week." "Good, because I want my parents to see it." "You're a good student, Brett. I'm going to miss you in class." "I'll miss you, too. I've learned a lot, and as a Teacher it's important for you to know that. But ya gotta do what ya gotta do. I have an opportunity to help a friend of mine give back to the community for kids who need it. I just decided that my time would be better spent that way is all...." "Do you know where you're going to College next year?" "Yeah, I'll be at UW-Madison...." "And a major?" "Well, it's going to take a little while. I'm going to be an Attorney and an M.D." "Jesus Christ!" "Yeah, but see, there's only like a half-dozen people in the whole state of Wisconsin that have both of those qualifications and what it'll mean is that I can write my own ticket. Money will be an issue, yeah, but I'll get by. I figure it will take me three years to get my Undergrad, and then four more years beyond that before I can start Hospital residency. I figure I can be on my own by the time I'm 26." "Yes, I see. And, Brett, something else: I understand that you have the support in all this of another extraordinary young man. I'd just like to give you both my best." "Yes. Yes, I do. And thank you." "Very well, I have to get back to grading the work for the other kids that are stuck with me for the rest of the year," and with that the Teacher reached out to shake Brett's hand. "Yeah, I gotta get my stuff ready for the game tonight. At least we're playing at home...." "Good luck tonight, Brett." "Thanks," and with that Brett left his former Math Teacher. At 8:00 that evening in old Monterey Stadium on the banks of the Rock River and directly across the river from the hulking General Motors Plant, the Craig Cougars hosted the Sun Prairie Cardinals. Sean thought it odd that the team mascots of Middleton and Sun Prairie were the same. * Prior to the game, Coach Slater approached Sean. "Mr. Wyman, this is the first time I've done this with you. I've always made it a point after addressing the whole team before a game to have a minute, or two with my starting Quarterback. I'm not at all sure it's necessary with you, son. This is your first game starting for us, and I know you'll do well. I believe in you." "I believe in you, too, Coach, and I believe in our entire team. Don't worry, we'll kill it." Sean had a creditable first half, directing the offense to score 21 points. Against that, the Cougar defense wasn't having a stellar beginning and gave up 14 points. At halftime, Coach Slater dressed down his defense a little bit. "Gentlemen on defense! The offense put up 21 points in the first half. You allowed 14. Yes, that means we're ahead, but we kick off to start the second half. So, our first half defensive performance was not optimal, and I am not satisfied with it. I expect that we will not allow Sun Prairie to score on their first series. For obvious reasons, I do not wish to see the score tied. That is imperative. Given that the score is as close as it is, we will keep the defensive starters in at the beginning of the half for at least the first series of downs. Now, let's get out there and win this game. Jesus Christ, we're in front of a home crowd, guys.... You know what to do." Sun Prairie received to start the second half and had a short run-back to begin their possession at their own 24-yard line. On first and second downs the Craig defense held them to only three yards total gain making it third and seven for the Cardinals. Everyone knew this had to be a passing play. There was no way a chance would be taken on the run thereby forcing a punt from deep in their own territory. Brett looked over at Tim on the sidelines. Tim nodded to Brett and gave a thumbs up. Brett knew what he had to do. He was going to be on his Receiver like flypaper and if the ball came that way Brett would use his superior height and size as the Receiver he was assigned to was two inches shorter and about twenty pounds lighter. Coach Slater had called one of their more sophisticated blitz packages and the Cougar defense lined up in a way that the Cardinal offense would be unlikely to read as indicating an impending blitz. At the snap, the left side of the Sun Prairie offensive line had been fooled. Their Quarterback was now being chased by both a Cougar Defensive Tackle and a Linebacker, and was in trouble. In addition to that, the Cougar pass coverage was tight. Brett sensing an opportunity backed off his Receiver a bit hoping to set up a trap. It worked. The Sun Prairie Quarterback saw Brett's Receiver was open, if only a little bit, and still being chased by the Craig defenders had no other choice but to unload the ball to that man. With the ball in the air, Brett accelerated jumping into the air at the last second and snatching the ball out from in front of its intended target. Landing with the skill he retained from his figure skating days, he turned on a dime and made for the end zone. Catching the ball where he did at the 35-yard line, he was just too far away to score with most of the Sun Prairie team between him and the end zone, but all the time in his mind was what Coach preached about ball control. He knew at all costs he would execute Coach's First Fundamental: hold on to the ball. Brett was downed at the 14-yard line by the Sun Prairie Quarterback. When he got back to the sidelines, the entire team slapped Brett on the back. Coach Slater simply looked at him smiling and shaking his head. This was good field position as it allowed both room to pass, and also afforded the opportunity to gain a first down and four more tries at the end zone if the Cougars needed it. Tim was in at Quarterback. For the first play, Sean called a double-reverse. The play was well-executed, but Sun Prairie's defense wasn't about to give up anything without a fight. The Cougars gained six yards for a second and four at the Sun Prairie 8-yard line. Sean didn't think this was any time to get creative and simply called the same play again only run to the other side. This netted an additional three yards and a third and one at the 5-yard line. Sean waited until both teams had lined up and then signaled Coach to call a time out. Sean, Tim and Coach huddled up. "Dix," Sean said, "I been watching their D-line. Not all of them are watching the snap. The Left Tackle is only listening. I can tell. On the last two downs he took off just a little bit before the actual snap. The Ref didn't see it, but I did. Hard-count it on this play. If it works, it'll be half the distance to the goal line and a first down. I think it's got a decent chance to work." Tim returned to the field and huddled his Offense. He ordered the hard count. If there was no penalty, the play was to be a simple run up the middle. He knew they could get the one yard they needed for a first down out of that, but as one of Tim's game axioms went you don't turn down free yards on an opponent's penalty. Sauntering up to the line of scrimmage, Tim took his position under center. The hard count began and sure enough it drew the player Sean pointed out off sides. The ball was moved half the distance to the goal line and it was now first and goal to go at the two-and-a-half. The play Sean sent in next was designed to reward Brett for his interception, as Brett was now in the game at Wide Receiver. Tim lined up in the shotgun formation. Again, he hard-counted the snap in an attempt to give the opposing defense the jitters. He figured it would buy him a split second extra. This time, Sun Prairie wasn't buying what Tim was selling. There was no penalty and the hard count bought Tim no extra time. It didn't really matter, though, as Brett was quick enough and agile enough to fake out his coverage and turn to dart across the middle of the end zone. Tim fired the ball over the heads of the defending players straight into Brett's hands for six making the score 27-14. Sean signaled the Place Kicker to stay on the sidelines and for Tim to hustle back and go for the two-point conversion. The guys successfully executed it, and the score now stood at 29-14. Sean's reasoning for calling the two-point conversion was that if they got it then even if Sun Prairie was able to score two unanswered touchdowns with extra-point kicks the Cougars would still be ahead, and even if Sun Prairie managed both with two-point conversions, they'd only need a field goal. The remainder of the game, however, became a stalemate with neither team making mistakes, but neither team scoring either. It was not an indication of ineffective, or poor offensive play on either side, but straightforward, hard-nosed defense. Watching from the stands, the game was closer-run than the final score indicated. But it was another win, and the team at 3-0 felt that they'd done their jobs against a tough opponent and notched up another step on the way to their goal. Coach Slater's remarks after the game were positive. He told his men that he was proud of their play that evening. He reminded them that they had played a truly good team with a tough defense that night, and after some initial disappointing play by their own defense, in the second half when it was crunch time the defense delivered. Sean was awarded the game ball for three touchdowns and as Coach put it, "superb play calling." Coach then took Brett aside and let him know that if there were two game balls he'd get the other one, telling him, "Son, sometimes there are unknowns who show up and turn out to be real stars, you know, guys that just come along and surprise the shit out of you. You're one of those guys, and I'm proud as hell to have you on our team." The guys decided not to have a post-game party that night as everyone was tired. The game had been a hard one and took a lot out of everyone. That may have been a good thing for that evening as unbeknownst to anyone, one of the team was the focus of a meth-fueled rage. END CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE * The WIAA Big Eight Athletic Conference consists of the following schools: Beloit Memorial Purple Knights Janesville Craig Cougars Janesville Parker Vikings Madison East Purgolders Madison LaFollette Lancers Madison Memorial Spartans Madison West Regents Middleton Cardinals Sun Prairie Cardinals Verona Wildcats