Date: Thu, 21 Sep 2017 21:12:05 -0500
From: Eric Trager <trager2275@gmail.com>
Subject: It Is What It Is: Chapter 49

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Trager.

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CHAPTER FORTY-NINE



The next two weeks went by uneventfully. Sean was, so far, able to produce
the winning record that he felt was his responsibility. The team was
running smoothly. The players coalesced into a talented unit, albeit a tad
less talented than the previous year's squad, but they were improving each
and every day. The other Coaches warmed to Sean's no-nonsense style of
leadership and his willingness to delegate authority as long as is produced
the desired results.

Currently, the Cougars posted a 3-0 record, most recently having beaten
their closest Big Eight Conference rival from last year, the Madison West
Regents. Sean took a gamble for that game, electing to start Kris Krieger
figuring that the Regents would be expecting Kevin Masterson, against whom
they knew how to play due to the fact that they had all previously been
team mates. It wasn't so much that Krieger ran different plays than
Masterson would, it was that Krieger wasn't the expected opponent. And he
acquitted himself well. So well, in fact, that Sean knew with confidence
that he could put the Junior Quarterback in any time he pleased and not
have to worry about it. It was satisfying as well that the Cougars played
the Regents away, in Madison, and still won. Yes, it was a narrow victory
by the score of 21-17, but it was still a W.

Monday morning early, Sean was contacted by the Sports Editor of The
Janesville Gazette asking if Sean would be willing to sit for a short
interview. Sean agreed, but flummoxed the Editor when he made a condition
of the interview his review and approval of the questions to be asked prior
to sitting down. The Editor initially balked, but gave in when Sean stated
that the condition was not negotiable. He reminded the Editor that the
entire team was being asked to do without their near-legendary Head Coach,
and that he therefore could not entertain the possibility of walking into a
reporter's trap. Now, or ever. Gob smacked, the Sports Editor agreed to
Sean's condition and emailed him a list of questions. Sean read them over,
deleted a couple, changed the wording of some others, and sent the list
back with a note stating simply, "The attached list of questions is what
the interview shall consist of. No deviations."

Again, the Sports Editor was shell shocked.

Mid-morning, Sean received a notice from a Student Monitor to report to
Principal McVay's office. Upon doing so, the Principal sat him down and
handed him a letter. "Read this. I just printed it out..."

It was a notice from the WIAA stating that they were about to launch an
inquiry into a student taking the roll of Head Coach in a WIAA-sanctioned
interscholastic sport. "Well, what do you think?" Principal McVay asked.

"Pardon my French," Sean said, handing the letter back while pointing at it
with his other index finger, "but this is a crock of shit. Wanna know what?
I figured some idiot might pull this crap, so I did my research. The only
statement in the WIAA regulations concerning Coaching staff is that it be
done in accordance with a member district's policies. Well, guess what... I
reviewed ALL of the policies of the Janesville Public Schools, too, with
respect to this, and there is nothing at all mentioned when it comes to the
temporary incapacity of a Coach and how a replacement is chosen. Nothing
whatsoever."

"Yes, I am aware of that..."

"Well, are you also aware that according to Coach Slater, it's in his
contract that should he become temporarily incapacitated that he, and he
alone, has the authority to name the person acting in his place?"

"I was not aware of that."

"That's what Coach told me. So, in the absence of any written district
policy anywhere that would supersede what's in Coach's contract, the
language in his contract IS the district policy that would apply in this
case. If I were the school system, I'd tell the WIAA to fuck off. They
haven't got a case. Period."

"I'm not sure we can tell them to fuck off..." Principal McVay laughed.

"Well, what I just said is how it is. I mean, why would they waste their
time investigating nothing? I'd like to know who's behind it, because this
isn't their first time at the rodeo. They know what their rules are just as
well as they know what their rules are not. They're banking on the School
Board and the Administration being a bunch of fucking pussies. Anyway, will
I be replaced? Yes, or no..."

"I don't see the need for that, at least not now, but I don't call the
shots. I imagine the School Board will want to get involved."

"Those numb-nuts?" Sean said derisively. "They couldn't shit their way out
of a paper bag...  The only people they care about pleasing are the
Teacher's Union goons."

"No comment," Principal McVay chuckled.

"I want you to know that I've agreed to do an interview with The
Gazette. I'm pretty sure they don't know about this, but I'm gonna let `em
know... I was asked to do a job, and I can assure you a hundred percent
that I WILL NOT let the team down. I intend to do the job I was asked to do
until Coach Slater returns. And that's just the start and the end of it. If
I have to, I'll turn public opinion in this town against the WIAA. I can
use my public persona any way I choose. It's a sword, cuts both ways..."

"Your determination is commendable."

"Look, with everything I've been through in the past year, I never lost
sight of one thing, and that's when you say you're gonna do something you
are duty-bound to see it through. A hundred percent. Do they think I'm just
going to roll over? That I'll disappear? I will not!  Nothing doing! The
guys are depending on me, and like I said, I won't let them down. Do you
think for one second I'd let any of those men, especially the Seniors in
their last year, lose a whole season? Absolute horeseshit! These WIAA
people don't scare me. They can kiss my ass."

"Very well... I'll let you know if there are any developments."

"Thanks. Now maybe I can get on with the rest of my day..." Sean rose, and
left the Principal's office rolling his eyes. For his part, Principal
McVay's eyes were popping out on stalks.

After practice that day, Sean and Andy made the short trek from the school
to Ginny's house.

"Well, it's my favorite two hotties!" Ginny said, answering the door. "What
brings you over this way?"

"Ginny, you remember you said if we ever needed anything to come see you?
Well, there is something we need..." Sean answered. "We've never asked
before, but..."

"Look, you two, I fucking meant what I said. Let's go to the patio. Care
for a cold one?"

On the patio, Ginny handed them both a 16-ounce PBR. "OK, boys. Spill it!"

Sean went on to spell out for Ginny the substance of his meeting that
morning with Principal McVay. "OK, so like what do I do to get this
bullshit off my back?"

"Alright, look, Sean. There's nine members on the School Board. Four of
them wouldn't be there without my, shall we say, backing. The other five
are dipshits, but they know I can have them replaced at the next election
if I feel like it. For now, we'll see which way the Board wants to go with
this, but I'll have a word with my four people. And just remember, they've
got a referendum on the ballot this Spring for construction of a new
school, so unless they want someone like me coming out against that, I'm
pretty sure they'll see it my way... IF they want their shiny, new school
toy to play with, that is... And we all know how these kinds of people just
LOVE to build monuments to themselves... You'd think they were from North
Korea, or something... Anyway, what do the guys on the team think?"

"They don't know about this. Yet..."

"Well, it's not something you can keep from them. If you do, and if they
find out some other way it will damage their trust in you, mark my
words. Especially since you have no control over when they'll find out, or
from whom. I mean, you absolutely know you can expect a story from one of
those Commie Rag Madison news outlets... Remember the hatchet job the TV
station tried to do on Coach Slater last year... Don't let that be
you. You're too smart for that, Sean."

"I'll tell them tomorrow."

"I certainly would. Now, you leave the rest to me. That's what I'm here
for. And next week we need to have a little meeting about that hotel
deal. I think there's a way forward here..."

"OK, thanks, Ginny. We'll see you next week."

Ginny knew exactly what she needed to do. She began by picking up the phone
and making a series of calls. No one in town, if they were smart, declined
to take a business call from Ginny Miller. An hour later, satisfied she'd
got the ball rolling in the right direction, she placed a call to the
School System's Athletic Director.

She was merely lining people up, but made it clear she'd not tolerate
anyone going wobbly.

Ginny knew she would also need to find out who was behind this annoyance
and make sure they understood it was the wrong decision on their part. To
that end, she contacted Charlie Ditmar, having been well impressed with his
firm's handling of security at her home during the Bill Kennedy
ordeal. Ditmar said this would be a cakewalk and he'd have it wrapped up
shortly.

Content things would work out her way, Ginny ordered a pizza.

At the end of practice the next day, Sean gathered the team
round. "Gentlemen, it appears that the WIAA has taken it upon themselves to
do what they call launching an investigation into my position as Acting
Head Coach for the time being of our Varsity Football program. I want you
all to know that I've been given a job to do and I intend to do it. I
consider this to be nothing more than an act prompted by cowardice and
treachery. On the part of whom, I don't know yet. But I'll find out. What I
do know, and what I want you to know is that I'm not going anywhere. I
won't let you down. I asked when this all happened that you believe in me,
and I want you all to know that I believe in you. We're a team, gentlemen."

Silence greeted the end of Sean's remarks. Then one by one, the players
began to applaud and cheer. Someone called out, "You got brass balls,
Coach!"

"I felt I had to make you aware," Sean said. "You'd have found out anyway
and best you find out from me. That will be all for today. Dismissed."

In the locker room, Kevin Masterson as Captain of the Offense told the team
that they were all to meet at the Italian restaurant after showering.

Once there, Masterson said the meeting would be short but he just wanted it
off school grounds. He went around the room and asked each man, yes or no,
if they stood behind Sean in his position as Acting Head Coach.

To a man the answer was an unhesitating yes.

"Then here's what we're gonna do..." Masterson proceeded to outline for the
team what he felt was a strong course of action should it become
necessary. He then called for a vote of the team. When he called for the
ayes, the response was deafening, and when he called for the nays there was
only plain, dead silence.

"Alright, then, let's go home. I've got everyone's phone numbers, so if the
time comes I'll send out a group text and let everyone know when and where
it's gonna be a go... This is BS, guys.  Total fucking BS. Coach Wyman
literally almost broke his neck last year in the Championship game because
that's the kind of guy he is. He did it for the team. Just like any of us
would do and just like what he's doing now is for the team. He won't let us
down and we CAN'T let him down."

Again, there was unanimous vocal assent.

The next day after practice, Sean sat down with the Gazette Sports Editor
for his interview.

EDITOR: Coach Wyman, thanks for agreeing to sit down for this
interview. Shall we get started?

SEAN: Fire away...

EDITOR: First of all, we'd just like everyone to know that Coach Slater is
in our thoughts and prayers. How do you feel stepping in?

SEAN: He's in all of our thoughts and prayers, too. He's a great man. We
owe him our Championship from last year, and over the years he's touched
the lives of thousands of students at this school in ways he probably
doesn't even realize himself. Anyway, how does it feel? Look, I was asked
to do a job. I intend to see it through until the time Coach Slater is
back.  We're a team. We feel Coach's absence to be sure, but he asked me to
just get on with the season, and he asked the same of the team. We can talk
more about that later – I see you have a list of questions there so why
don't we run through them...

EDITOR: I notice we're meeting here in the Head Coach's office.

SEAN: Yes, and you'll also notice the name on the door says Robert
Slater. I am not the Head Coach. I only sit in his chair for a few hours
every day. And it's a big chair to fill.

EDITOR: You've got a 3-0 record so far. How do you view the team doing
going forward?

SEAN: We'll just take it one game at a time. That's the only way to do
it. What I can tell you is that this team is hard workers. Every single one
of them. Like last year, we're blessed to have two capable Quarterbacks,
but I don't want to overlook the other positions. At the beginning of the
season we were a little concerned with the defensive backfield, but they've
really come along in terms of actual game performance. So far, the coaching
staff is pleased with what we've seen. That said, as we all know excellence
chases perfection, but it doesn't always catch it. Those aren't my words,
they're Coach Slater's. Right now, I'd rate our performances as very
good. Our goal is excellence. So, we'll see... Perfection? Who knows...

EDITOR: Are you at all concerned being both a student and a Coach?

SEAN: No. Next question.

EDITOR: Is it true that in addition to everything else you have twin babies
that are only a few month's old?

SEAN: Stop the tape. Right now. That question was submitted in advance of
this interview and I deleted it. It was not to have been part of this
interview, and to be honest it's none of your fucking business. You're the
Sports Editor, you don't write a gossip column. Here's the deal: if that
question appears in the paper, I promise you that neither you, nor anyone
else at your newspaper will never interview me, or any of the other Coaches
ever again. We're here to talk about the Craig High School Varsity football
program, not my personal life. Am I being clear?

The Sports Editor was taken aback, but one look from Sean indicating that
he was deadly serious put the issue to rest. The interview went on from
that point in a factual manner, with the Editor finally winding up.

EDITOR: In closing, is there anything else you'd care to add, Coach?

SEAN: Yes. And this is a scoop for you. It's come to my attention that the
WIAA has stated they intend to launch an investigation on whether, or not I
can fill in for Coach Slater until he's able to come back. I would like to
assure most importantly all of the players and all of their parents that I
am indeed able to do so under my understanding of the existing policies of
not only the WIAA but also the Janesville Public Schools. I'd add as well
that I've already made the players aware of the WIAA's intentions. It was
my duty to do so because had I not, and then had they found out through
third-party information, they'd have rightly lost all trust and confidence
in me. I owed it to them because we're a team. I don't see that there's
anything more to add on this subject at this juncture. To me it's a
non-issue, but if they wish to waste their time...

EDITOR: This is a bombshell!

SEAN: I'll keep you abreast of any developments.

EDITOR: Thank you for sitting down with us, Coach.

SEAN: Thank YOU.

As it turned out, the next game saw another Cougar victory, upping their
record to 4-0. As a result, there was additional pressure put on by the
WIAA.

At the same time, the twins continued to thrive. Now, they were a little
bit above average in terms of both height and weight for babies their age,
and Doctor Schroeder noted their cognition to be superior although he also
noted that it was also identical. Exactly identical.  What one could do,
the other could do and in the same amount of time. What one couldn't do,
neither could the other.

It occurred to Sean the words of Madame Zastrow that if the twins were to
have The Gift, Sean would know. After dinner that night, he asked Andy what
he thought.

"Hey, Brown Eyes, you remember what Madame Zastrow said, you know, like if
the Twins would have The Gift?"

"Now that you mention it, yeah..."

"Well, I mean, didn't you ever notice how everything they do is always at
the same time, even their development? I mean, they weigh the same, they
take a dump at the same time, they seem to learn new things at the same
time and what about that they raise hell if they're separated? I mean, ya
gotta admit..."

"Yeah, I guess you're right..."

"Look, she knew your mom. Can you call and get an appointment with her? For
Sunday? Make it as early in the morning as possible. I'll let Mrs. Cheadle
know that she'll come with us."

"What if she doesn't take Sunday appointments."

"Tell her we'll pay double the rate. Triple if we have to. I don't care how
much it costs. Don't worry, she'll do it... They are her Great-great
nephews."

"OK...."  Andy laughed as he made the call, telling Sean they were all set
for 7:30 a.m. on Sunday.

"7:30?!" Sean asked, askance.

"Dat iss vut she said..." Andy replied, mimicking the old Russian Jew.

"OK, I'll let Mrs. Cheadle know. She'll prolly tear a strip off me. I
swear, she thinks the British Empire still exists, and that she's Queen
Victoria..."

"We are not amused..." Andy joked back.

"OK, well, I'll go tell her and then how about you amuse my asshole..."

"I'll be waiting in the bedroom with my dick in my hand."

"Be there in a flash!" Sean smirked.

Entering the nursery, Sean found Mrs. Cheadle. "We're leaving for Kenosha
at 5:45 in the morning. The boys are coming and so are you. We'll be
meeting their Great-great Aunt."

"Are you daft?! Sir?!" Mrs. Cheadle exclaimed.

"Hey, I didn't set the time, and I don't have time to argue about
it. Anyway, I got another appointment with Andy, and it's right now if ya
catch my drift..."

"That's too bloody much information, Sir!"

Sean just laughed as he bolted down the hall, hearing Mrs. Cheadle's
British sarcasm growing fainter in the background. Entering their bedroom,
Sean saw his husband as he said he would be: in bed, on his back, legs
spread, eyes closed and slowly masturbating. Sean saw glints of precum
shining on the head of Andy's big cock. Even after all this time with Andy,
Sean stopped for an instant to take in the beautifully massive shaft with
which he was about to be impaled.

Andy moaned softly, not yet aware of Sean's presence. He took his precum on
his index finger, inserting it into his mouth. He writhed languidly,
continuing his slow jacking, and fondling his balls. Sean by now was
completely hard, reaching into his gym shorts to manipulate his own member,
and finger his asshole.

Silently, he stripped off his clothing. Then he padded toward the bed, Andy
still unaware. Once at the bed in a flash he engulfed Andy's hefty,
dripping cock into his mouth and throat causing Andy to buck and
hiss. Sucking his lover for a minute, Sean found he was in no mood to
wait. He wanted it now.

While Andy's cock impaled his throat, Sean turned, placing his ass in
direct line with Andy's mouth. Instantly, Andy started eating Sean's hole
causing Sean to go rigid as he felt his anus relaxing and falling open,
warmed and titillated by his husband. Soon, Andy replaced his mouth with
two, then three fingers, giving Sean a ferocious prostate milking eliciting
a river of clear, sweet precum. Andy savored Sean's precum, then deemed him
to be ready for the taking.

Andy's recent growth spurt netted him clearing six feet tall, barely
albeit, but still at six feet, and all his exercising paid off in a lean,
chiseled 175-pound body. His strength allowed him to flip Sean over, pull
him to his knees, position him on all fours and then in one motion to enter
him.

Both Andy and Sean jolted, Andy from the sensation of his lover's hole in
supple firmness clamping down on the length and sensitive head of his dick,
Sean from the warm heat of being filled by Andy's ample pole.

Andy was in no mood to take it slow. He fucked Sean fast and manhandled him
roughly. With each stroke, he pulled almost completely out, then rammed
back in with full force. Sean begged Andy to fuck him even harder.

Both next door, and forty miles to the north-northwest, in Madison, two
other young couples were in the throes of animal passion. Jim Nolan
ravished Danny's ass, somewhat of a rarity as Danny usually topped, while
in Madison Brett plunged Danny's lookalike cousin.

Three sets of lovers drove themselves toward powerful orgasm. Six sets of
balls prepared their loads. Andy pounded Sean's ass mercilessly. Jim had
Danny begging to cum inside him, Brett made ready to withdraw and shoot his
load on Tim's face.

Tim often asked Brett to spray him with cum. The previous Winter at the
cabin up North, the boys drew straws. Tim came up with the short straw and
by dint of losing the draw was assigned bukkake duty. He found he enjoyed
it, and ever since then let Brett know that he got off especially hard
being coated in cum. Brett, for his part, had the ability to orgasm
multiple times in relatively short succession, and even the third load was
a decent one. Tim preferred cum ropes laid on his face where he could feel
the warmth and lap up the ones closest to the reach of his tongue.

Tim knew most would regard his like of this as degrading and submissive. He
didn't care. Seeing other guys cum turned Tim on, and Brett knew it and was
more than happy to oblige his husband. More often than not, simply the
sight of Brett shooting his load was enough to make Tim get off. The truth
was that Brett and Tim were each in love with everything about the other
one. They had long ago decided that each one could put up with a dalliance
here, or there so long as the other one was involved as well, and the other
two couples weren't the only ones involved. Brett and Tim already had made
quite a splash in the gay student scene in Madison, and a lot of people
knew them by name. It wasn't at all unusual for them to have an overnight
guest.

Danny and Jim, on the other hand, led a more conventional life. Faithful to
each other except for the trip to the cabin, they delighted in using the
sling that Andy removed from the main house when the nursery was done and
put in the otherwise unused bedroom of the apartment over the garage with
the understanding that Andy and Sean had the use of it when they
desired. Tonight, however, Danny and Jim made use of it as Jim plowed
Danny's ass with abandon. Most of the time, Jim bottomed for Danny but that
only served to slightly mask the fact that Danny was an accomplished bottom
and could make his lover cum simply by the way he controlled his anal
muscles to massage Jim's cock. This always brought Jim to a shattering
orgasm and tonight would be no different.

Andy continued to pound Sean into a whimpering, gelatinous mass. Sean bade
Andy to go faster and rougher as he could feel himself nearing the point of
no return. Gasping, Sean shot his load all over his chest for Andy to
see. Sean always had muskily-scented sperm, and this time not only did the
air hang heavy with the scent of his sperm, the volume of the load was so
heavy Andy couldn't take it any longer, and filled Sean's ass with a river
of warm seed. The feeling of Andy spasming inside of him together with
feeling the heat of Andy's cum streams pushed Sean over the edge to a
second orgasm almost as heavy as the first, so much so that most of the
hair on Sean's chest was glued together with his perfume-rich semen. He
scooped some of it up on his finger and fed both himself and Andy as they
collapsed into each other's arms.

The next morning bright and early, Sean, Andy, Mrs. Cheadle and the babies
set off for Kenosha. Joey and Lennie never fussed much in the car, and were
asleep for the entire trip almost as soon as Sean was done backing out of
the driveway.

Arriving at Madame Zastrow's place of business, Andy and Mrs. Cheadle
carried the babies inside while Sean parked the Equinox and hurried back to
meet the others. It was not until Sean entered the building that they heard
Madame Zastrow stirring in the back room.

"I villa be right viss yoo, boys," She called out. Entering the room, she
first glanced at Mrs.  Cheadle. "Yoo are English Nanny, da?"

"Yes, I am. Mrs. Cheadle," Mrs. Cheadle replied, extending her hand which
Madame Zastrow did not shake, but rather turned over and studied the lines
in the palm.

"I see yoo huff much experience vit da little oness. Ziss vill not take
lonk. Let me see ze babies.  Ah, yess. Ziss one iss Joseph, and ze udder
vun iss Leonart. Zey look like yoor mudder, Sean, ant zey vill grow up too
look like her, too. I can see zat zey vill be goot boyss, but zat iss not
vy yoo haff come to me today..."

"Um, no, not it isn't..." Sean said.

"Vell, let's get to ze point, Zen, shall ve? I can tell you dat dese boys
haff gift. Dey both do. Ant zair gift is very stronk. Yoo see, my sistair,
Vehrgeenia, she hass gift, but only little. More like eentuition. My
daughtair, too. Now, zese boys, zey haff gift maybe stonger dan me."

"Oh, wow..." Sean said.

"Ant right now day want be togedder, nyet? Dey cry venn yoo take zem avay
from one anudder, da?

"Yes," Sean replied.

"Dat iss because I know dat Leonart almost did not make it to diss vorld
alife. Even den, Joseph know dat. He feelss he must to protect Leonart, and
Leonart feels he iss not safe vitout Joseph near to him. Diss vill pass,
but in life, Joseph vill alvays to protect Leonart, and in time dey vill
alvays protect each udder. Dey are goot boyss and dey vill not giff you any
trouble..."

"OK, but what about..."

"Say no more. Yoo want know eef dey be like dere mudder in some
vay. Nyet. Dey inherit gift trough dere mudder, but dat eess all. Dere
mudder hat gift, too, but she did not know how to use it. She use it for
bad, not goot. Dat is vy she die. Dese boys vill haff dere personalities
more like your mudder, more like yoo. I already say dat dey vill bee goot
boyss. Don't to vorry."

"Well, I just hope I do alright as a dad..."

"Yoo vill be goot fadder, Sean. And dere vill be vun, maybe two more little
vuns. Very vell, zat iss all ze time I haff for today. Andrew, I vant see
yoo ven de udders leafe. De rest of you can go now."

Sean and Mrs. Cheadle shrugged, thanked Madame Zastrow and walked back to
the car with Joey and Lennie still asleep in their portable car seats. Once
they were out of the building, Madame Zastrow bade Andy sit down.

"Andrew, giff me your right hand."

Andy complied.

Madame Zastrow turned it over, intently reading the lines in Andy's palm.

She squinted, and muttered something in Russian to herself. She continued
that way for the better part of two minutes.

"Andrew, yoo can neffer tell to Sean vat I am going to tell to yoo. I tell
yoo now so zat ven da time come yoo vill know..." She then proceeded to
give Andy some explanation that took only a short time. "Dat iss all vat I
haff for yoo, Andrew. You are goot man. I vill not see yoo again.  My time
iss not lonk for diss vorld. I should haff been gone alreaty, but Gott said
I must to stay for a little vile yet. Goot bye, Andrew."

Andy looked at Madame Zastrow. He found himself unable to speak, but he did
give her a hug, nodded his head, and left.

"What did she want?" Sean asked.

"She told me about the last conversation she had with my mom..." Andy
answered.

Sean was not a hundred percent convinced, but for now he had no choice to
believe Andy.

The trip back to Janesville was uneventful, even when the babies woke up,
demanding to be fed. Mrs. Cheadle, ever prepared, had two warm bottles
inside an insulated shoulder bag. She had seated herself in the middle of
the back seat in order to easily feed both tots, and when they had their
fill, skillfully burped them without removing them from their car seats. As
soon as that was done, they fell back to sleep for the remainder of the
ride, although about twenty- five miles east of Janesville, near Lake
Geneva, Andy remarked that his nose was telling him there were two newly
filled diapers in the back seat.

Mrs. Cheadle laughed, uncharacteristically, and quipped, "Well, how do you
think I bloody like it, Sir? I'm bloody sitting in the middle of two shite
piles!"

"Thought you'd be used to it by now," Sean smirked.

"I'll bloody remember you said that!" Mrs. Cheadle responded. "Sir..."

"It does stink," Andy said. "You think we should stop and change them?"

"Yeah, I guess we should..." Sean answered. He pulled over at the next Kwik
Trip, knowing they'd have changing stations in the bathrooms. A few minutes
later, both babies, as fresh as roses, were popped back into the car
allowing for a breathable remainder of the trip.

On Monday when Sean got home after practice, there was an envelope for him
bearing the return address of `Janesville Public Schools, 527 S. Franklin
Street, Janesville, WI.'

Sean opened it, removed the enclosed letter and read it. The letter
requested his presence at a public meeting of the School Board scheduled
ten days hence, the topic of the meeting to be Sean's appointment as Acting
Head Coach of the Craig High School Varsity Football program.

"Alright," Sean thought to himself, "They're gonna wish they never
scheduled this fucking meeting."

That week saw the Cougars notch up another win, holding on to their
unbeaten record by making it now 4-0. Sean was in good shape for the
meeting he thought, and he'd had a conversation about it with his starting
Quarterback. They met in Sean's office the day before their most recent
game.

"Mister Masterson, thank you for coming," Sean opened the meeting.

"Sure, Coach... What's up?"

"Well, Mister Masterson, it appears as if our illustrious School Board is
sticking their nose into my appointment as Acting Head Coach. Now,
ordinarily I wouldn't do this, but seeing as you and I are here alone, I
think it's OK." Sean handed Kevin Masterson the letter he received from the
School Board. "Read this..."

Kevin Masterson read the letter with increasingly furrowed brow, looked up,
and handed it back to Sean.

"What is your opinion?" Sean asked.

"Well, I think it's a load of crap. As far as I know, Coach had the right
to name you as acting Coach. Am I right about that?"

"You are..."

"Would you be upset with me if I shared with the rest of the team the
existence of this meeting? And it's a public meeting, right?"

"I would not be upset if handled correctly, and yes, it is to be a public
meeting."

"I know exactly what to do."

"I thought you might, Mister Masterson. I think that will be all for now."

"OK, Coach. This is gonna work out. You'll see."

The evening before, Sean had scanned the letter, emailing it to George
Dickson, Coach Slater, and Ginny. If he was going to go down, he didn't
intend to go down without a fight.

On the appointed Wednesday evening at the School Board building, the
Chairman of the School Board called the meeting to order with a
standing-room-only audience. In the audience were Coach Slater, albeit in a
wheelchair, George Dickson, Tim Dickson, Brett Dowling, Andy, John, Joe
Wyman, Ginny, Principal McVay and not to be missed by anyone, the entire
Craig Varsity football coaching staff as well as the entire team itself,
each man in his Jersey, as well as the Cheerleading Squad, their Coach and
as many of the student body as would fit in the room. So many people showed
up that the attending Police Officer had to turn people away.

The President of the Board opened the meeting, stating that the purpose was
to help decide whether, or not it was wise to allow the football program at
Craig High School to become the target of a WIAA investigation.

He then asked the School System's Attorney to address the Board and take a
few questions. The Attorney's testimony was uninformative as it seemed to
lack any legal analysis and merely serve to reinforce what appeared to be
the a priori majority position of the Board that the Janesville Schools
should shy away from the issue as if the threat alone of an investigation
were enough.

After that, Principal McVay was called and he answered a few questions in a
bland way, although not so bland as to indicate to the Board that he agreed
with what seemed to be afoot.

Next was the Superintendent of Schools, a woman whom, to Sean, seemed to
prove the old axiom that in life most people rise to their level of
incompetence. He found her to be obtuse, unclear, waffling and unable to
put together a coherent English spoken sentence.

After the Superintendent's performance, Sean was surprised that the
President of the Board called him next.

During questioning, Sean did not veer from his standpoint that he
understood it was part of Coach Slater's contract that he could name anyone
he chose as Acting Head Coach in the event he was temporarily incapacitated
and that the WIAA rules only stated that such appointments be made within
the policy of each individual school district. Sean then turned the tables
on the President of the Board by asking him if he was able to recite for
everyone just what the written policy of the Janesville School district was
with respect to such things in order that everyone could have a clear
understanding.

The President of the Board stammered, deferring to the District's
Attorney. The Attorney could give no clear answer.

At that moment, Coach Slater, through a heroic effort, slammed his cane to
the ground and stood from his wheelchair. "It'sh time for me to shpeak!"
Coach Slater said in a gravely yet comprehensively authoritative voice. "I
can't shtay here all Goddamn night!"

The room fell stone silent, all eyes on the long-time Coach.

Coach Slater waved a sheaf of papers. "Here!" he stated to the President of
the Board. "Here'zh a copy of my contract. I had my Attorney, George
Dickshon right over there," Coach said pointing at George, "review the damn
thing, and he schircled the part where it shays I can name whoever I want
azh Acting Head Coasch if I'm temporarily out of action. Here! Read it and
then we can all get the hell out of here! You have no other polischy, and
you know it. Thish izh a joke!"

The entire School Board, the Superintendent and the Board's Attorney sat
with mouths agape.

"I shaid take thish and effing read it!" Coach Slater bellowed. "All you're
doing is washting the time of a young man who'zh doing a damn fine job at
shomething he never asked for! How dare you! You should be giving him your
shupport!"

At that point, it was not lost on the Board members that Ginny, seated in
the front row, was filing her nails and stonily staring down all nine of
them seemingly simultaneously.

The President of the Board pointed to George Dickson, who had caught his
eye. "Attorney Dickson, could you come to the podium?"

Once at the podium, the President asked George if he had reviewed Coach
Slater's contract."

"I have," George replied.

"And what is your opinion?"

"I reviewed Coach Slater's contract as well as all of the public records
that are available online with respect to the WIAA's policies and the
District's policies on such things and a District policy manual dated June
of 2014 that was furnished to me by Coach Slater. I found that the
District's online information as well as the policy manual itself is silent
on the subject. Therefore, it is my opinion as an Old Country Lawyer that
what controls here what is stated in Coach Slater's contract."

"Wait!" The Superintendent exclaimed. "The Board can alter its policy at
any time! If it is the decision of the Board to avoid this WIAA
investigation, a policy can be made here and now! We can have done with
this whole thing right now!"

At this, George Dickson returned to his seat, thoroughly disgusted.

The President of the Board then threw the meeting open for public
commentary.

Ginny rose and strode to the podium even though she hadn't been called. She
didn't care.

"Good evening, Mister President, Board Members and Madame Superintendent."

"Good evening, Mrs. Miller," the Board President, who was not one of
Ginny's people, replied.

"Mister President, before I begin I'd like to address the remarks just made
by the Superintendent. Never before have I heard a person in a high
position say something so craven and cowardly. Her remarks were a disgrace,
and she ought to withdraw them. Of course, it is true that within legal
bounds the Board can make, unmake, or change policy at their pleasure.  We
all know that. What bothers me is that there was no reason to make those
remarks unless Madame Superintendent would rather not have someone snooping
around, and for whatever reason that might be I couldn't possibly
imagine..."

"She can imagine a reazhon alright..." Coach Slater laughed.

"But be that as it may," Ginny continued, "that's a different issue and one
which is not being looked into tonight," Ginny glared at the Superintendent
who looked away. `Just as I suspected," Ginny thought to herself, `a
fucking chicken shit.'

"We are here tonight to help the School Board make the determination as to
whether, or not the School Board is going to stand behind a young man who
is giving selflessly to his school mates. Whether, or not the School Board
will honor a contract written between them and Coach Slater. Whether or not
we, as a community, have the backbone to stand up and do the right
thing. Well, will we, or won't we? What's so hard about this? Let's not
take all night planning on this, OK... It's a simple issue, and let me
simplify it for you even more. Either we stand behind this young man, or I
review the pledge I gave some months ago to make a substantial contribution
toward the building of the new Elementary School that you say you need so
much, and without my contribution you will not have the money to do. If you
can change your policies, then so can I. That is all I have to say."

Ginny did not wait to be excused by the President, she merely returned to
her seat in the front row, continuing to somehow glare at all the Board
Members as if they were one person.

The President asked for others to come forward. In all about twenty people
did. All supported Sean. At the end, the President asked if there was
anyone else who wished to state an opinion.

Kris Krieger indicated that he would like to be heard. He approached the
podium, and once there was asked to state his name.

"I'm Kris Krieger. I'm the backup Quarterback on the Varsity football team,
and I'm one of the team Captains. Um, we had a vote, and I'm the one the
team picked to speak for all of us."

"What class are you in?" The Superintendent asked.

"I'm sorry, ma'am?" Krieger responded, "I think the President of the Board
is running the meeting and I don't think he called on you to ask me
anything... Anyway, I'd like to go ahead with what I have to say. It won't
take long."

The Superintendent at that point asked the President of the Board if she
might ask a question.

The President nodded.

"What class are you in this year?" she asked somewhat imperiously.

"I'm a Junior, ma'am..."

"And your age is?"

"Sixteen, ma'am. But that's two questions and you said you only had one..."

"Mister President, I move we do not hear from this young man. We should be
hearing from adults."

Before the President could respond, Kris Krieger responded. "Well, Madame
Superintendent, then why did you hear from second graders when you had a
meeting about how kids feel about God in the classroom? Why did you hear
from all kinds of kids of all ages on the issue of standardized testing?
Did you think no one else was aware that you did these things? It was OK
for you to parade underage kids through here then so they could say what
you wanted to hear, so what possibly is your reason for not hearing from me
now as the chosen representative of the entire football team? Do you think
I might say something that you DON'T want to hear? I'm sorry, I really am,
I didn't come here to pick a fight, but I'm going to continue now..."

The room silent, Kris Krieger continued. "As I said before I was
interrupted, I won't take long.  The message I was instructed to deliver to
you tonight, and by a unanimous vote of the entire Varsity football team
and Cheerleading Squad is this: if you make Coach Wyman go as our Acting
Head Coach, then we all quit. The Varsity football team and the
Cheerleading Squad. All of us. We quit. Coach Slater picked him to lead us
until he gets back. We believe in Coach Slater and we believe in Coach
Wyman. We're a team, and he's our Coach. OK, I'm done."

"You'd all quit?" The Superintendent asked, aghast.

"Yes, we will. Forgive me for putting it this way, but yes, we will, and I
was speaking English."  Kris Krieger responded matter-of-factly, returning
to his seat amid gasps from the audience, and noticeable discomfort from
the Board Members and Superintendent.

After that, other people were heard from also uniformly behind Sean
continuing to run the team. At long last the Board President indicated that
as their last public contributor they would hear again from Coach Slater.

Coach Slater had managed to stay through the entire meeting, and although
tired, and ill, he wheeled his wheelchair to the podium, again planting his
cane into the floor while semi-feebly standing.

"I'm not a well man... Yet..." Coach Slater began. "But I will be... You
can bet on that. For almosht thirty yearzh I've coasched a lot of young men
in this town. I've alwayzh done what I think izh right by the men I
coasch. What I did wazh right when I appointed Coasch Wyman to take over
for the time I'll be out. And it'sh shtill the right deschision. It wazh
right for the team.  You people on the Board can deschide whatever the hell
you want. I don't have a vote, but I wouldn't schange a thing. You lishten
to your playerzh and your scheerleaders and your other shtudentsh, and
everybody elshe who came here tonight. I'm tired. I'm gonna go now, but
know thish: I made the deschision I made and like I shaid I wouldn't
schange it. And it was my deschision to make. You gave it to me."

At that moment, unnoticed, Charlie Ditmar entered the room, found Ginny in
the front row, sat down behind her in a seat that Ginny had held open
knowing he was due to show up, whispered something in her ear, and handed
her a small sheaf of papers.

Ginny leafed through them quickly, skimming here and there, then stood up.

"Mister President, I've just been handed some information I'd like to share
with the Board.  With your permission, of course..."

"Is it pertinent" The President asked.

"Yes. I believe it is. Very much so," Ginny answered.

"Very well, but please make it brief."

Ginny strode to the podium, the sheafe of papers in her hand.

"If it pleases the Board, I found it odd that, out of the blue, the WIAA
would do what they called in imprecise terms `open an investigation' into
Sean Wyman's position as Acting Head Coach some weeks after he assumed the
job. It seemed to me that if they had some specific objection to it that it
would have been made known right away."

"Please," the Board President said, "get to your point..."

"Certainly. I was suspicious enough about the circumstances of the whole
thing to engage the services of a Private Investigator in order to find out
who was behind it. Just a moment ago, the Private Investigator handed me
his findings. I scanned his conclusion before I asked to speak just now,
and I can tell you that his conclusion is startling."

"Will you furnish the Board with a copy of the Investigator's report?" The
Board President asked.

"I'd be delighted to furnish a copy to the School District's Attorney, and
to do so now," Ginny replied.

"And what was the Investigator's conclusion?" The Board President asked.



END CHAPTER FORTY-NINE