the forty-yard line.
Silo: “Shoulda brought more beer.”
Spartans dig in. Wideouts right and left. In the shotgun, Waddell takes the snap, fakes right, then throws left, ball is caught at the thirty-two on quick slant by Gaddy, who is slammed down to the ground by Hindu Aiken. First down East Pike, and they’re moving the chains. Two forty to go, and the Spartans need somebody on the sideline to start making some decisions. They’re playing without coaches down there, folks .
Blanchard: “Who was making decisions?”
Paul: “After they got the first down, Neely and I decided we’d better burn a time-out.”
Silo: “I took the defense to the sideline and the whole team gathered around. Everyone was screaming. I get goose bumps thinking about it now.”
Neely: “Volume, Nat, before Silo starts crying.”
First down at the thirty-two. East Pike breaks huddle, in no hurry, split backfield, wide right, the snap, Waddell back to pass, looking right, and he connects on a down-and-out at the thirty-eight. The receiver did not go out of bounds, and the clock is moving at two twenty-eight. Two twenty-seven .
From the gate, Mal Brown smoked his cigarette and studied the crowd of ex-Spartans sprawled loosely together in the center of the bleachers. He could hear the radio and he recognized Buck Coffey’s voice, but he could not tell what game they were listening to. He had a hunch, though. He puffed and looked for Rabbit somewhere in the shadows.
East Pike at the line with a second and four, two minutes fourteen seconds to go in the game. Quick pitch left to Barnaby, and he cannot go! Hit hard at the line by both Utleys, Ronnie and Donnie blitzing through every gap, it seems. They hit him first and the entire team piled on! The Spartans are in a frenzy down there, but they’d better be careful. There was almost a late hit .
Silo: “Late hit, unnecessary roughness, half a dozen personal fouls, take your pick Buck. They could’ve flagged us on every play.”
Ronnie: “Silo was biting people.”
Third and four, under two minutes. East Pike stalling as much as they can as the clock ticks away. Back at the line all eleven Spartans are waiting. Do you run and get stuffed, or do you pass and get sacked? That’s the choice for East Pike. They cannot move the ball! Waddell is back, it’s a screen, and the ball is knocked down by Donnie Utley! Clock stops! Fourth and four! East Pike will have to punt! One minute fifty seconds to play and the Spartans will get the ball!
Mal was walking slowly around the track, with another cigarette. They watched him get nearer.
Paul: “The last punt return worked, so we decided to try it again.”
A low punt, a line drive that hits on the forty, takes a big bounce and then another, Alonzo Taylor scoops it at the thirty-five and he has nowhere to go! Flags everywhere! Could be a clip!
Paul: “Could be? Hindu drilled a guy dead in the back, the worst clip I’ve ever seen.”
Silo: “I started to break his neck.”
Neely: “I stopped you, remember? Poor guy came to the sideline crying.”
Silo: “Poor guy. If I saw him now I’d remind him of that clip.”
And so it comes down to this, folks. The Spartans have the ball on their own nineteen, eighty-one yards to go, with one minute and forty seconds left on the clock. Down thirty-one to twenty-eight. Crenshaw has two time-outs and no passing game .
Paul: “Couldn’t pass with a broken hand.”
The entire Spartan team is huddled together on the sideline and it looks like they’re having a prayer .
Mal was walking up the steps, slowly, with none of his customary purpose and banter. Nat stopped the tape, and the bleachers were still.
“Boys,” Mal said softly, “Coach is gone.”
Rabbit materialized from the shadows and loped down the track. They watched as he disappeared behind the scoreboard, and a few seconds later the bank of lights on the southwest pole went off.
Rake Field was dark.
______________
Most of the Spartans
Silo: “Shoulda brought more beer.”
Spartans dig in. Wideouts right and left. In the shotgun, Waddell takes the snap, fakes right, then throws left, ball is caught at the thirty-two on quick slant by Gaddy, who is slammed down to the ground by Hindu Aiken. First down East Pike, and they’re moving the chains. Two forty to go, and the Spartans need somebody on the sideline to start making some decisions. They’re playing without coaches down there, folks .
Blanchard: “Who was making decisions?”
Paul: “After they got the first down, Neely and I decided we’d better burn a time-out.”
Silo: “I took the defense to the sideline and the whole team gathered around. Everyone was screaming. I get goose bumps thinking about it now.”
Neely: “Volume, Nat, before Silo starts crying.”
First down at the thirty-two. East Pike breaks huddle, in no hurry, split backfield, wide right, the snap, Waddell back to pass, looking right, and he connects on a down-and-out at the thirty-eight. The receiver did not go out of bounds, and the clock is moving at two twenty-eight. Two twenty-seven .
From the gate, Mal Brown smoked his cigarette and studied the crowd of ex-Spartans sprawled loosely together in the center of the bleachers. He could hear the radio and he recognized Buck Coffey’s voice, but he could not tell what game they were listening to. He had a hunch, though. He puffed and looked for Rabbit somewhere in the shadows.
East Pike at the line with a second and four, two minutes fourteen seconds to go in the game. Quick pitch left to Barnaby, and he cannot go! Hit hard at the line by both Utleys, Ronnie and Donnie blitzing through every gap, it seems. They hit him first and the entire team piled on! The Spartans are in a frenzy down there, but they’d better be careful. There was almost a late hit .
Silo: “Late hit, unnecessary roughness, half a dozen personal fouls, take your pick Buck. They could’ve flagged us on every play.”
Ronnie: “Silo was biting people.”
Third and four, under two minutes. East Pike stalling as much as they can as the clock ticks away. Back at the line all eleven Spartans are waiting. Do you run and get stuffed, or do you pass and get sacked? That’s the choice for East Pike. They cannot move the ball! Waddell is back, it’s a screen, and the ball is knocked down by Donnie Utley! Clock stops! Fourth and four! East Pike will have to punt! One minute fifty seconds to play and the Spartans will get the ball!
Mal was walking slowly around the track, with another cigarette. They watched him get nearer.
Paul: “The last punt return worked, so we decided to try it again.”
A low punt, a line drive that hits on the forty, takes a big bounce and then another, Alonzo Taylor scoops it at the thirty-five and he has nowhere to go! Flags everywhere! Could be a clip!
Paul: “Could be? Hindu drilled a guy dead in the back, the worst clip I’ve ever seen.”
Silo: “I started to break his neck.”
Neely: “I stopped you, remember? Poor guy came to the sideline crying.”
Silo: “Poor guy. If I saw him now I’d remind him of that clip.”
And so it comes down to this, folks. The Spartans have the ball on their own nineteen, eighty-one yards to go, with one minute and forty seconds left on the clock. Down thirty-one to twenty-eight. Crenshaw has two time-outs and no passing game .
Paul: “Couldn’t pass with a broken hand.”
The entire Spartan team is huddled together on the sideline and it looks like they’re having a prayer .
Mal was walking up the steps, slowly, with none of his customary purpose and banter. Nat stopped the tape, and the bleachers were still.
“Boys,” Mal said softly, “Coach is gone.”
Rabbit materialized from the shadows and loped down the track. They watched as he disappeared behind the scoreboard, and a few seconds later the bank of lights on the southwest pole went off.
Rake Field was dark.
______________
Most of the Spartans
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