Date: Sun, 11 Jun 2017 03:24:04 +0200
From: Nick Brady <y2kslacker@mail.com>
Subject: Carhops - Chapter 9

CARHOPS - Chapter 9

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Copyright 2017 by Nick Brady, all rights reserved.

-------------------------------------------

It was 1954, a new year. It would be a year of change.

On May 17, the Supreme Court of the United States unanimously ruled that
separate educational facilities were inherently unequal. As a result,
racial segregation was ruled a violation of the Equal Protection Clause of
the Fourteenth Amendment of the United States Constitution.

In simple terms, this meant that separate schools for whites and coloreds
would have to be integrated. The times were changing, and the effect on
small communities like ours was hotly debated.

There was an accepted division of the races here. We had our part of town
and colored folks had theirs. We had our schools and they had theirs. It
had always been that way. But now, it looked like that was to change. It
was no longer a question of if this was to happen, but when and more
importantly, how?

The city council and the school board searched for a solution that would
smooth this transition. Although Watalekee was segregated just as were all
the cities and towns in Oklahoma, we had not experienced any serious racial
strife. What would bring us together as one community, especially in
regards to our schools? After much discussion and soul searching, one thing
stood out. We all loved football.

After much debate, it was decided to first integrate the school sports
programs. Both schools had a basketball team. More recently, both schools
now had a football team. Only the Tigers had a baseball program, but there
were likely talented players in the colored part of town. The theory was
that if we could learn to cheer for an integrated sports team, we would be
more likely to accept an integrated school.

In the 1954-1955 school year, the sports programs would be integrated. In
the 1955-1956 school year, the schools would be integrated. The decision
was not unanimous, but it passed. Now the question was just how to make
this work. Wisely, the details were largely left up to the school
administrators and the coaches.

As soon as school was out for the summer, a meeting was held to iron out a
plan. The first step was to hold a joint session with the athletes and
their families from both schools. The sight of the mix of races mingling
together on the football field was unusual. I quietly joined them on the
sidelines.

Joe Johnson, the Superintendent of Schools for Watalekee stood and spoke to
the group. "I want to welcome all of you today. As I'm sure you know, we
are looking to integrate our school system. While there may be some who
have problems with this, it is now the law of the land and we must
comply. If there is one thing that can unify the people of this town, it is
our common love of sports. For this reason we plan to integrate our sports
teams first, beginning with the coming school year. In the following year,
we will integrate our school systems. I know that you young men love and
respect sports. I am asking you to put that respect above any personal
differences you might have with your teammates. If any of you have
misgivings about combining our programs, I ask you to put those aside for
the benefit not only for our teams, but for our community.

"Roger Thompson will continue as the head coach for the Tiger football
team. Tyrone Walker of the Panthers has agreed to serve as his
assistant. Both of these men are excellent coaches and will provide great
leadership for our team. I have asked Coach Thompson to explain our plans
for the coming season. Coach Thompson?"

Coach Thompson spoke up. "Good morning. The first thing I want you to know
is that Coach Walker and I have talked at length, and are in agreement
about the plan I'm going to present to you. He is an talented coach and a
fine man. I look forward to working with him.

"Beginning on Monday, This town will have only one football team composed
of athletes from both schools. For the next two weeks we practice as one
team. You will learn to work together and come to know each other as
individuals, and we will come to know you. After the first two weeks, we
will create two rosters, one of those chosen to be the primary starters,
and another for a secondary group of players. The individuals who will be
chosen to fill these positions will be selected on the basis of
talent. Race must not be a factor in this. What this will mean is that some
of you may have to yield the position you previously held to another
athlete, perhaps of a different color. I know this may be difficult, but we
want to be able to field the strongest team we possibly can.

"I want you to understand that the decision regarding primary and secondary
players will be made jointly by Coach Walker and myself alone. We will
consider advice from the other men who assist with this program, but the
final decision will be ours. For this reason, if any of you have a problem
with that decision, your problem will be with us, not with the person we
selected. If you are not willing to abide by our decision you are free to
leave the team. If there are personal conflicts which result from our
decision then you may be disciplined, and possibly dismissed.

"Now it is my pleasure to introduce Coach Walker. For those who do not know
him, he grew up here in Watalekee and went on to the University of Illinois
where he was selected for the football team as a walk-on. While there, he
majored in Physical Science with a minor in Sports Administration. Frankly,
his credentials are better than mine and his education more recent. I have
no doubt that he could have secured a much more lucrative position
elsewhere, but has come back to his home town to build up the sports
program and the community. We are privileged to have him with us. Coach
Walker?"

Coach Tyrone Walker was a young black man of medium height and athletic
build. He stood and addressed the group. "Thank you Coach Thompson. I look
forward to working with you. I don't have a lot to say today except that I
want you to know that I love this community, and I love the sport of
football. We have some excellent athletes on both sides of town, and if we
can work together I think we can have an excellent team. I look forward to
bringing home a conference championship next year. We need all of you to
accomplish that. Thank you."

He sat down and someone started to clap. After a brief pause the others
joined in. It appeared that Coach Walker had been accepted.

"What did you think about the meeting?" I asked Henry the next day.

"I thought it went pretty well," he said. "We'll see what happens when
practice starts."

"You'll be starting for the Tigers when school starts," I told Henry.

"I don't know about that. I'll just be a freshman."

"If team selection is based on the tryouts, you'll have as good a chance as
anybody," I reminded him.

Henry nodded his head. "We'll see," was all he would say.

I rode over to the field every morning to watch the practices, as did a lot
of interested townspeople. The guys were subjected to a lot of physical
training. Calisthenics, wind sprints and endless drills were the order of
the day. I was glad I wasn't on the team. It was clearly hard for some of
the guys who had gotten lazy since the last season. There was a lot of
huffing and puffing, and a few guys were seen to puke on the
sidelines. Henry was not one of them. He looked good.

We got together on Sunday afternoon at my apartment. "How did it go?" I
asked.

"I did OK, I think," Henry said.

"You didn't puke."

"No," Henry admitted, "I didn't do that."

"I was there, Henry. You looked great. I bet you make the first team."

"We'll see," he said modestly, but he smiled.

I was there the next week when they ran hundred yard dashes. They had
endurance drills. The coaches were working them hard. If Henry was not the
fastest guy on the team, he was very close. Probably the fastest runner was
Eddie, the boy who had been the Panther quarterback. The athletes were
broken up into two groups and played scrimmages against each other. There
were passing drills, and Henry missed very few of the balls that were
thrown to him. Things were getting interesting.

At the end of the second week, they were told that on the coming Monday,
the first and second string teams would be announced. Of the boys who had
begun the trial period, a number had already dropped out.

"You're a shoo-in," I told Henry.

"I don't know. I wish I had your confidence," he said.

I was in the stands on Monday. There was a fair crowd of interested
spectators from both parts of town. The aspirants were assembled in a group
facing Coaches Thompson and Walker. We could hear Coach Thompson as he
addressed the group.

"I want to thank all of you who have worked so hard over the past two
weeks," he said. "I know that you are all anxious to learn of our decision,
so we will not waste your time with any further remarks. We have selected a
group of starters who will be our first string. When I call your names, I
want you to assemble on my right."

He began to call out names. Not surprisingly, most were from the former
Tiger team. They were good athletes and had the benefit of
experience. Besides, there were more of them, making it likely that the
team would be largely white. But among those selected was Eddie, the
Panther quarterback, Charlie, one of the running backs, and a big colored
boy named Devon who was selected as the Tiger center. Next the coach
announced the second string. Three more from the Panther team were
selected. Henry was one of them. I quietly cheered and pumped my fist into
the air. Henry glanced up at me and smiled as he walked to the group on the
coaches left.

Coach Walker spoke next. "Those of you who have not been selected are still
part of the team. We want to thank you for your hard work and promise that
you will still have a chance to play. We will experience injuries. Some of
our initial selections may not work as expected. We need you to be our
reserve, and back up those we have selected today. Don't give up, guys. We
want you to stay with us. Thank you."

The two groups then scrimmaged with each other. Spirits seemed to be
high. To my eye, neither group was significantly superior. Of course, my
eye was always on Henry. It had been a year since we first met, and he was
taller and stronger. Lean, fast and agile, when thrown a pass he picked it
out of the air with sure hands and ran through the first string defenders
like a long legged cat. When he was not able to receive a pass thrown to
him, it was usually because the second string quarterback threw it short or
long.

I wondered why Henry was not in the group of starters and decided that
being a freshman next year must have something to do with it. But he would
be able to play in the games, and when that happened, his talent would be
obvious. I had confidence in my friend.

"You should be a starter," I told Henry.

"The coaches decided on the teams," he reminded me. "They know what they're
doing."

"You'll be on the first string by the third game," I predicted.

Henry smiled but didn't reply.

I was a regular in the stands when the new Tiger team practiced. Henry was
working hard. He was first in the sprints and threw himself into the
exercises with a passion. Both teams had to learn all the standard plays,
and some new ones concocted by the coaches that were quite original. They
ran endless drills. Playbooks were handed out and they were told to
memorize them. Football had homework. When I wasn't at the stadium, I was
in the library.

Henry was up early every morning running two miles with a can of beans in
each hand. After breakfast he was at football practice. After practice, he
was memorizing the playbook. He was compulsive about it. He had no free
time, at least not for me. Friday afternoon, I rode to his house to find
him stretched out on his bed with the playbook on his chest. He was asleep.

I sat down on his bed and ran my hand over his short curly hair. He slowly
opened his eyes. "Hi, Jimmy."

"You look awfully tired. Maybe you've been working too hard."

"I'm OK. I got to do this, Jimmy."

"Do what? Kill yourself?" I was worried about him.

He sat up and stretched. "I have to get in shape. It's really important."

"I know you love football, but you'll wear yourself out at this
rate. What's going on?" I asked.

"After last week, the coaches had a little talk with me," Henry explained.

"What kind of talk? I thought you were doing good."

"Oh, I'm not in trouble or anything. Actually, they were very
encouraging. They said I had talent."

"I knew that. What else did they say?"

Henry smiled, "They said that if I developed like they thought that I
could, I might be good enough to get a college scholarship. I never dreamed
that I could go to college. I need to work really hard."

"Ah! So that's why you're working so hard. You need to take it easy,
Henry. You could really hurt yourself."

Henry shrugged. "It's just exercise. It will make me stronger."

"I guess, but I worry about you. You can overdo this kind of thing, you
know.

"Not really," Henry wasn't convinced.

"Yes you can. When you train too hard, you can strain your muscles. You
have to let them rest so you can recoup. You can get so tired that it'll
slow you down," I argued. "It will affect your performance."

"How do you know all this?"

"I can read. I'm a nerd, remember? There are books in the library about
this kind of thing,."

Henry had a confused look on his face. "But Coach Thompson said I should
work hard."

"I'm not saying you should dog it. I'm just saying that you can't do
everything at once," I told him. What you need is a training program."

"What do you mean?"

"That's when you do one kind of thing one day and another thing the
next. Like weight training on even days and running on odd days, or
something like that."

Henry gave me a straight look. "Did your book tell me how to do that?"

"Not really, but that's the idea. I'm not a coach or a trainer," I
admitted, "but it's still good advice."

"Suppose you're right? How do I do this?"

I thought for a moment. "If I were you, I would ask Coach Walker. Tell him
that you want to get yourself in the best shape you can for football season
but you don't want to over train and hurt yourself. Ask him what he thinks
about a training program. See what he says."

Henry nodded slowly. "I guess I could do that."

"It can't hurt," I said. "Coach Walker is right out of college and probably
knows a lot about this kind of thing. He will know if anybody does. Ask
him, Henry."

Henry looked at me seriously then started to laugh. "I think maybe I should
call you Coach Jimmy."

"I'm just trying to help," I said.

"I know, and you are helping," Henry said. "I'm so busy trying to do
everything at once that I'm probably not thinking straight. Maybe I need a
good nerd to point me in the right direction. Thanks, Jimmy."

"Maybe you need to take a little break from football and relax for awhile,"
I grinned.

"What did you have in mind?"

"It's been a long time since we went fishing. Do you think you remember
how?"

Henry frowned. "I can't tomorrow. We have a big session to work on the
playbook tomorrow afternoon. We could go Sunday afternoon."

"Sure. Don't even take a fishing pole. I just want to spend some time with
you," I said.

Sunday after church we met at the road to Turner and rode out to the creek
with the ceder grove. We parked our bikes at the old circle of trees and
made our way down the hill to the little creek.

"I'm sorry. I guess I've been neglecting you, haven't I?" Henry admitted.

"I understand, Henry. You've been busy with football, and that's important
to you. I have missed seeing you though."

"I am, but you're important too. I can't neglect my best friend."

I pulled off my shirt and wiped the sweat from my face with it. "It's
awfully warm today. What do you think about falling in the creek?"

Henry looked up and down. "I don't know. I forgot to bring my swim suit."

"Since when did that stop us?"

"I will if you will," Henry grinned.

I shucked my pants and waded into the creek. "Last one in is a rotten egg!"

In a moment Henry followed me. "Whoa! The water's cold!"

"That's the idea!" I pounced on him and unsuccessfully tried to pull him
under. I found myself underwater and came up sputtering. On impulse, I
quickly gabbed his testicles and held on tight. "Gotcha!"

Henry started to jerk back and then thought better of it. "Careful, there!
I'm using those."

'Hold still then," I said, and ducked under the water to inspect my new
possession. It looked nice in the clear water. Above my hand floated a long
black sausage which I took in my mouth and felt it began to swell.

"I'm using that too," Henry said when I surfaced, "but you can borrow it if
you like."

"Say you're sorry for dunking me," I grinned, tightening my grip on his
balls.

"You started it," Henry reminded me. "But if you ask me real nice, I'll
apologize anyway, since you have me by the balls, as the expression goes."

I let go of his nuts and wrapped my arms around him. "Apology accepted. And
you're right, I did start it. It was a big mistake on my part to pounce on
a handsome football stud, but I just couldn't help myself."

Henry held me tight. "You're right about one thing. I have neglected you,
Jimmy. I do apologize for that."

I moved my hand to his cock and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Apology
accepted. Let's make up for lost time, OK?"

Henry leaned over and kissed me. Not a frantic kiss in the midst of
passion, but a slow deliberate kiss. We were back on the same team. We
gathered up our clothes and walked back up the hill to the ceder grove
where we lay down on the quilt and made up for lost time. Nothing too
heavy, just an exchange of blow jobs and body fluids. It was slow,
deliberate and very sweet.

Monday after football practice I waited for Henry to get out of the
showers. He had a big smile on his face. "Would you like a job?"

"What kind of a job?"

"The coach said we need a team manager when the season starts. You
interested?"

"That sounds impressive. What does a team manager do?"

Henry laughed, "Basically clean up after the team – wash the uniforms,
pick up the locker room, pack stuff up when we travel – that kind of
thing."

"A real glamour job, huh?"

"Henry shrugged, "It won't be so bad. Some of the guys will help you, and
you get to sit with the team during the games. Plus, you get to travel with
us to away games. You'll be part of the team."

"Really? That does sound like fun," I agreed.

"At least we would see more of each other. What do you think?"

What do I have to do? I would love to be the team manager."

"Talk to coach Thompson. Tell him that you understand that the team needs a
manager and you want to be considered. Tell him you really want it and will
do a good job," Henry suggested. "I think the job will go to the person who
wants it the most."

"All I can do is try," I said. "Is the coach still here? I'll ask him right
now."

"He's inside the locker room. Take a deep breath, think about what you want
to say, and go talk to him."

I walked slowly over to the locker room entrance under the stadium,
thinking carefully about what I would say. When I went inside, I was
greeted by the odor of stale sweat, analgesic balm and humidity from the
shower. I saw both coaches picking up towels and trash from the floor. I
picked up what was between the door and the coaches as I approached them.

"It looks like you could use some help," I said as I placed the towels on
one of the benches and tossed the trash into a barrel. "Have you thought
about getting someone to be the team manager?"

Both coaches turned to look at me and smiled. "We were just talking about
that," Coach Thompson said. "Do you know what a manager does?"

I looked them in the eye and spoke up firmly. "Yes, sir. He would keep the
locker room picked up and wash the uniforms. He would mop up after the
practice and try to make this place smell better. I think I could do that."

"It's a lot of work," Coach walker said. "Why would you want to take that
on?"

I spread out my arms. "Look at me. I'm too small to have a chance to play,
but I love the sport of football. This would be a way for me to be a part
of the team. I would be willing to work very hard. I hope you will consider
me for the job."

Coach Thompson looked at me and smiled. "What's your name, son?"

"I'm Jimmy McKenna," I said and offered him my hand.

He shook my hand and said, "I'll remember your offer, Jimmy. We may get in
touch with you."

I thanked them and walked out. They hadn't said no.

Henry was sitting on the sidelines and smiled when he saw me leave the
locker room. "How did it go?" he asked when I walked up to him.

"I don't know," I admitted. "I'll have to wait and see, I guess. I gave it
my best shot."

"That's all you can do," Henry clapped me on the shoulder.

We parted and rode off in different directions. I needed to get home and
tell Mom that I might have a new responsibility. I figured that she would
approve.

"I think that's nice," she said after I explained what I had volunteered
for. "I hope they chose you for the job."  I had been blessed. Now to see
what happened.

I hung out at the stadium every day when the team practiced. I didn't talk
to the coaches again, but I think they noticed that I was there. I hoped
that they thought my presence had more to do with my interest in the team
rather than my interest in Henry. Anyway, I was there every day. On the
following Monday, Coach Walker caught my eye and waved me over.

"Are you still interested in being the team manager?" he asked.

"Yes sir. Very much," I replied.

"Why don't you come in the locker room so we can talk to you about what
your responsibilities will be."

I resisted the urge to pump my fist in the air and followed him inside.  He
showed me the washer and dryer, the cabinet with the laundry soap, and
where the brooms, mops and disinfectant were kept. I was instructed to
gather up all the towels and wash them every day, and the practice uniforms
once a week. Once the season started, the game uniforms had to be washed
the day after each game, and before each game I was to be sure that the
right uniforms went to the each player. That meant that I had to know the
jersey number for each player, both the starters and the second string. If
one of the scrubs was called into play, he would quickly swap jerseys with
a player who was off the field. It was a lot to remember and would be a lot
of work, but I was part of the team.

I started right then, picking up, sweeping and mopping until the lingering
odor improved somewhat. All the towels needed to be washed, dried and
folded, This was to be a daily routine. On Friday I washed all the practice
uniforms and and laid them out for the next week of practice. Henry helped
me and recruited a couple of the other freshmen to pitch in with the
laundry. It was working. Neither of the coaches said anything to me which I
took to mean that I was doing OK.

One of the fringe benefits of my new job was being in the locker room when
the athletes showered each day after practice. The sight of thirty young
guys parading around naked, flipping each other with towels and generally
horsing around was, to say the least, stimulating. I forced myself to avoid
staring and went about my chores with a feigned air of indifference.

After working together for a month now, everyone seemed to getting along
quite well. There seemed to be no friction between the white and colored
players, at least so far. When the regular season started, I was hopeful
that this would continue. Over the summer, there were a few adjustments
made to the roster, as two of the starters were replaced with guys from the
secondary, and one of the scrubs was promoted to the second string. Henry
remained on the secondary, although he impressed me as one of the better
players.

Sunday afternoons were for Henry and I to spend a little time together. The
location of choice was in my apartment, made more convenient because my
mother was at work. Henry rode over on his bike after church when Mom left
for the restaurant. A year ago he might have hesitated to ride into my part
of town. Now, it had become less of a concern due to the integration of the
football teams during summer practice. Nevertheless, we stayed inside,
mostly in my bedroom.

"Are you sure this is safe?" Henry asked as we snuggled together naked on
my bed. "What if your mother comes home early?"

"She doesn't get off work until late," I assured him. "Besides, I locked
the bedroom door just in case."

Henry sighed. "I don't know, Jimmy. I am so afraid that someone will find
out that we do this sexual stuff. It could get us in terrible trouble."

"No one has to know. We've been careful."

Henry shook his head. "I hope not, but I have everything riding on playing
football and trying to get a scholarship. I could lose all that."

I was silent for a minute. "It wouldn't be all that great for either of us,
Henry. This is about me, too."

"I'm sorry. Of course it is. I just don't know what to do," Henry
said. "How am I going to go through high school and then college without
somebody finding out about me? This isn't going to go away, Jimmy. I don't
think we're going to get over this."

"I'm not going to change, and this isn't going to go away," I said. "I
don't want anybody to find out, but I don't know what to do besides be
careful. I guess we could decide to never be together again, but I don't
want to do that."

"What other choice do we have?" Henry asked.

"Probably none," I grinned, "but we are safe here. Can we discuss this
later?" I rubbed Henry's firm stomach and he smiled at me.

"You sure know how to change the subject," Henry said.

I turned onto my side and looked at Henry stretched out beside me.  In the
past year, my friend had grown. He was taller now and much more
muscular. The football program and all the physical training was bulking
him up. He was still very lean - there wasn't an ounce of fat on his long
body, but he had a lot more muscle. His smooth skin was black and
shining. He was a beautiful young man. Next to him, I felt like a runt.

I sighed, "I'm trying to be serious, but when I'm with you, I can't think
about anything else but being with you. I know what I want to do right now,
and it's not talk."

I put my hand on Henry's chest and felt of his firm pecs, ran it over the
round shoulders and down his muscular arm. I ran my hand down over his flat
stomach and traced the treasure trail of fine black hair down to his bush
of curly pubes. His cock reacted by beginning to rise.

He took a deep breath and looked at me. "Oh, Jimmy," he sighed.

I rose up and moved to straddle his muscular thighs and press my balls
against his, our cocks touched and I took both of them in my hand. We were
both hard now, and his cock dwarfed mine. I might have grown slightly
beyond the five inches I had the summer before, but his six inches was now
closer to eight. Our foreskins were retracted partly, exposing the
heads. My cock was white as porcelain, his as black as ebony. My cock head
was bright pink, his a rusty brown. I squeezed them together, causing him
to squirm.

Henry looked down and ran his fingers through his black curly pubic hair,
then touch my blond bush. "We're kind of like salt and pepper, aren't we,"
he chuckled.

I smiled at him and moved up so that the ends of our dicks were aligned,
placing my balls against the base of his cock and began to stoke them up
and down in my hand. "Do you like that?" I asked.

"Oh, yes," he sighed, and ran his hands over my body. "You're beautiful,
Jimmy. Do you know that?"

"Next to you, I look like a shrimp," I laughed.

"No. Not at all. You're perfect just like you are," he said. "It would be
boring if we looked the same. I like it that we're different. We're very
different in some ways and just the same in others."

He passed his hands over my arms as I continued to stroke us both, our
cocks moving over each other. The sight of this was very erotic. I could
feel the cum rising in my balls. "I could get off this way," I said.

"Go ahead. I like to watch. This is something new," Henry said.

"There must be a million ways to get off with you. I'd like to try them
all."

"Me too. I love to make love to you, Jimmy. I never get tired of this," he
pulled at my arms, and I lay down on top of Henry, feeling his hard body
against mine. He wrapped his arms around me, pressing our cocks together
between us.

Then he kissed me and ran his hands over my back and ass as I humped
against him. He moved his hips from side to side creating wonderful
sensations. We held each other tightly and the kisses grew more passionate.

We were both exuding pre-cum and the space between us grew slippery. I got
that breathless feeling again and held him tighter. I could feel the firm
muscles in his chest pressing against me, felt his big cock pushing against
my stomach, felt the muscles in his shoulders flex under my hands. The
motion was intense, then I felt the hot cum spurt out of his cock and coat
our bellies. That triggered my own and I emptied myself against him.

We pressed our open mouths together and panted as we came together
simultaneously. It was very intense.

"Oh my Lord," Henry gasped. "I just can't let go of you, no matter what
happens."

I pressed my mouth on Henry's ear and dared to whisper, "I love you,
Henry."

"I know. I love you too," he said. "I just can't help it."

We held each other for a long time, feeling our rigid cocks soften, feeling
the slippery ooze between us drip slowly down Henry's sides. Then I lifted
myself away from him and looked down at the mess we had made.

"I need to get us something," I giggled.

"We kind of made a mess," Henry admitted and tried to scoop the cum away
from my bedspread.

I grabbed my undershorts and wiped first our stomachs, then the
bedspread. "It's not the first time I have made a mess on my bed. Don't
worry about it."

"Who else has made a mess on your bed?" Henry asked.

"Just me, silly. Mostly thinking about you."

"Oh. In that case, let me help you."

We straightened up the bed then went into the bathroom to clean ourselves
up. We fixed a sandwich in the kitchen and made some small talk, then Henry
left to ride home before it got dark.

Our worlds had changed forever, and would become even closer when football
season began.

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To be continued.

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