Guts vs Glory (4 page)

It didn’t take long until Mike got
his first chance to play.  Our defense held their offense to only three plays
before they had to give the ball back to us.  I think the other team watched
the previous week’s game because they seemed ready for Mike.  During our first
game, no one knew what he was capable of, so as soon as Mike got the ball, he
simply ran straight ahead and was never touched.  Now, our opponent knew what
he was capable of and knew they would have to stop him right away.  Mike didn’t
make it far, but at least he made positive yardage on his first play.  He got
another chance a few plays later when our running back lost yardage on a play
and he was sent in to take his place.  Once our quarterback handed him the
ball, no one could catch him.  Just like that, he had scored his second career
touchdown.

Although he didn’t score a
touchdown every time he had the ball, Mike made the most of his opportunities
whenever he got called back in.  I didn’t get my chance until halfway through
the 2nd quarter.  One of our offensive linemen needed a break so I came in for
him.  After a few plays of not letting anyone get the advantage on me, the
offensive lineman was ready to come back in.

Going into the locker room at
halftime, we were up by 20 points.  The coach wanted us to keep playing our
game without making any changes.  We had a big lead, but he said a lot could
happen in 24 minutes.  Clearly, that meant that we were still backups. 
However, Mike would still get a few chances to improve on his punt returning
ability.

We remained backups until the 4th
quarter.  We were up by 24 points, so the coach wanted to bench the starters to
protect them from injury.  I became the starting defensive end, while Mike took
the role of running back.  He continued to add yards onto his already
impressive performance, as well as another touchdown.   I was able to add a
tackle behind the line of scrimmage and, while on offense, didn’t let a single
opponent get by me.

At the end of four quarters, we
achieved our goal of keeping the crowd quiet.  We took their energy and we became
the loud ones.  We huddled up on the middle of their field like we owned it and
no one was going to challenge us.  We sang our school’s fight song, and then
ran into the locker room so we could head home.

On the way back from the game, the
atmosphere was just the opposite of what it had been on the way to the game.  Everyone
was yelling and cheering, while the coaches were bragging about their
successful plays.  Mike and I were even congratulated by our teammates, which
made us feel really proud about our game performances.  There was hope for this
new twist in our lives

When the bus arrived back at
school, our parents were there waiting us.  As we got off the bus, the parents
and families of the rest of the team broke into the school’s fight song.  After
the first couple of lines, the entire team joined in with them.  Then, the
weirdest thing happened.  While Mike and I talked to our parents about the
game, a couple of teammates approached us.  From out of nowhere, they invited
us to a post-game celebration.  If there was ever a time when we questioned if
we were actually part of the team, that invitation answered those questions for
us, and any questions from then on out.

Before long, it was obvious why
we
were invited to that party; all of the focus was on Mike.  Although I had a few
good plays myself, the guys kept telling Mike that he would probably be a
starter soon.  That prediction came true at practice a few days later.  Just
like the previous week, we were given our game assignments in our small
groups.  I would continue to be the first backup, but Mike got promoted to
starting running back and became special team’s returner.

Later that week, our team was
prepped by the coach for the upcoming game.  Although most of the guys already
knew what the coach was explaining, it was new to Mike and I.  Apparently, the
first two games we played were called non-conference games.  They were known as
tune-up
games and wins or loses didn’t count toward the conference
record.  Those results would, however, be counted towards our overall season
record, which would determine if we would be eligible for the state playoff
tournament or not.  Our conference record, meanwhile, would determine which
team in our conference, out of eight teams, had the best record at the end of
the season with a trophy going to that team.  It was a trophy that East
Whitaker had only won a handful of times.  Of course the goal that year, as
always, was to win the trophy again, but the stronger goal was to not lose a
single game for the rest of the season.  That had only been done once during
regular season, but had never been done during the post-season.

It was then explained that the game
Friday would not only be our first conference game of the season, but could be
our third victory in a row for a hopefully undefeated run.  That gave our team
a new motivation.  Suddenly, those games had even more meaning.  We weren’t
just trying to win games; we were trying to win trophies while padding our
team’s resume for the post season.

Preparing for that game meant
getting ready for our first game in the Becker County Conference.  It would be
a game that would either put us on the map in the conference, or would let
other teams know that we could be beat.  Even though we had already achieved
two victories, we were playing against teams that were equal to our level of
competition.  I think that’s what made Mike the most nervous.  He would be the
starting running back for our team during this first conference game.  If the
coaches made a bad decision in promoting him, we risked losing the game and could
have jeopardized our season.  If he did well, he would have to play at that
level of expectation all season.  Mike clearly felt like he carried the season
in his hands.  Sure, he had good games the first two weeks.  But as the coach
pointed out, those were against teams that didn’t have the same skill level
that we had.  Mike would have to have the same game experiences against the
upcoming high caliber teams that he had displayed against the teams we had
already played.

Shockingly, that game ended up
being even better than Mike’s first two games.  He had 3 touchdowns, nearly 200
rushing yards, and figured out how to run back a punt return without just going
in a straight line.  Amazingly, that was one of my best games too.  As an
offensive lineman, no one got past me.  As a defensive lineman, I had 2 tackles
and 1 sack.  For the amount of time that I had played in my life, I was more
impressed than anyone with the numbers I had.

After that victory, those
statistics would stay fairly constant for the next few weeks.  Even though I
was putting up impressive numbers, I was still a backup.  I was getting
stronger, but I still wasn’t as strong as the other guys on the defensive
line.  When I asked the coach why I was still on the sideline, even though I
was displaying so much success on the line, he told me that as a backup,
opponents would be unfamiliar with my specific habits.  They were used to the
habits of the starter, so when I relieved a starter, they weren’t prepared for
me.  If, however, I remained a starter, teams would be able to stop me as soon
as they studied my habits.  The coach reassured me that if I continued to get
stronger, eventually no team would be able to stop me, and that’s when I would
be trusted as a starter.

I was slightly confused by the
coach’s logic, but it made more sense when I watched Mike run.  Once he became
a starter, opponents attempted to create defensive plays specifically to stop
him.  But, because of his speed and quick turns, those plays were irrelevant. 
They still couldn’t catch him.  I knew I would soon be in his shoes as long as
I kept up with my workout routines.  Rather than being put off by what the
coach said, I was encouraged.  In fact, throughout the weeks, my workouts grew
in intensity.

After winning our next four games
in a row, Mike was a star.  With 13 touchdowns, he was on track to break the
school’s touchdown record.  Fans would cheer every time he got the ball, and
students would go out of their way to acknowledge him at school.  Mike didn’t
let it go to his head, though.  We remained close friends.  Even though I was a
backup for the rest of the regular season, while he was the starter, our
friendship survived.

As strong as our friendship was, so
were our grades.  Not only did we continue to work out in the early mornings,
but we also continued to study late at night.  He maintained a C average, while
I was getting Bs.  Our grades were going up, we were getting faster, we were
getting stronger, and even our popularity was growing.  Even though I wasn’t a
starter, I was still earning a reputation as one of the team’s hardest
hitters.  Remarkably, I had the most tackles for loss in our defensive line
group. 

In the six weeks of conference
play, the excitement and intensity we originally felt remained constant.  As we
continued to win, we were getting closer to that perfect record.  We all shared
the same goal of maintaining that perfect record, and we were committed to
working together as a team to achieve it.  Whatever we were doing in, and even
outside of, practice was clearly working, so there was no need to tinker with our
finely tuned machine.  All that changed, however, during the last week of the
regular season.

It was rivalry week.  That week’s
game meant more than just a win.  That game would be a reflection of the type
of season we had.  If we lost that game, we had a poor season.  If we won that
game, we had a great season.  That game would give us an undefeated season.  An
undefeated season would rank us tremendously in the state playoffs.  It would
also be our last home game.  That meant that the seniors would be playing their
last regular season game at East Whitaker High School.  Clearly, that group of
seniors didn’t want to go out on a loss.  And most importantly, that game was
against our biggest rival, the West Whitaker Wolves.  Beating West Whitaker
would give us bragging rights, and stop
their
undefeated season.  It
would be unthinkable to let the Wolves take away our perfect season.

Even Monday’s practice started off
differently.  In our small groups, our coaches were more intense than usual. 
Their voices were louder than normal, and there was no joking around.  Their
attitudes made the team act seriously because nobody wanted to make those
coaches mad.  That seriousness led to harder hits in practice and the team
seemed to be even more in sync.

Up until that game, we were on a
winning streak.  We were expected to win games because that’s just what we
did.  We were excited about games, but we had never been intense about them. 
The West Whitaker week had a different feel, though.  It felt as if it was a playoff
game and the result of that game would make or break our season.  For that, we
had to give it our all at practice and leave nothing behind.  We had to hit as
hard as we could, we had to run as fast as we could, and we had to move as soon
as the ball was snapped.  And anytime we didn’t do any of those correctly, it
was 20 push-ups.

Our Wednesday practice even felt
like a real game.  The coach would get irate if the starters messed up and
would make them correct themselves three times over just to make sure they did
it correctly.  Even the backup team was playing intensely and would also be
corrected on any mistakes.  It was the most intense week of practice we had ever
endured.  We were not going to lose to those West Whitaker Weenies.

Thursday was more of a celebratory
practice.  The coach wanted to remind the seniors that the following day would
be their last home game.  We were also celebrating our last regular season
practice.  Although we would be practicing during the playoffs, the celebration
was more of a reflection of surviving 11 grueling weeks of practice that led us
to the playoffs.  Finally, we were celebrating because the coach made it clear
that we would not have another chance to celebrate until we celebrated the
final game of the state playoffs.  Once we beat West Whitaker, it would be time
to get ready for round one of the playoffs.  There wouldn’t be time to
celebrate, and the coach even forbade any post-game celebrations.

Even at school, the atmosphere was
different.  The students knew how important that game was.  They went out of
their way that week to show their school spirit. Every student wore aqua and
dark purple, our team colors.  We were dismissed from school at the end of
every day that week with the fight song playing on the P.A. system.  The best
display of school spirit, though, was the prep rally.

School was put on hold for one hour
while the entire student body met in the basketball arena.  Just like at a
game, we came crashing through the gym doors once we were announced, and were
greeted by a full audience of cheers.  When we stood in the middle of the
basketball court, we saw cheerleaders with their faces painted, students with
their aqua and dark purple clothing, signs, banners, and even air horns.  We
suddenly realized that we weren’t just playing the game for us; we were playing
for the entire school.

Before every home game, the locker
room was full of excitement and horseplay.  However, before this game, the
players were quiet.  We looked like men on a mission.  The entire team knew
what was at stake and we would have to give all of our time, energy, and
attention to that game.  As we made it to the field for the pre-game stretches,
we walked in unison.  I noticed that for the first time that season, the
stadium was full an hour before the game had even started.

Back in the locker room, the coach
gave another great speech.  He reminded us how important the game was, not just
to the team, but to the seniors as well.  He made us realize how great it would
feel to achieve an undefeated season at home against West Whitaker while the
entire town watched.  Then, it was game time. 

Although the players were quiet, it
still wasn’t silent in the locker room.  We could hear music.  Opening the
locker room door, the music got louder.  We could see the high school marching
band on the field.  The band usually played before the game and at halftime,
but they were usually finished by the time we came back from the locker room. 
Something different was about to happen.  The instruments stopped.  The only
sound came from one single drum making a simple beat that seemed to keep the
band in step while they continued to march.  The band suddenly came to a halt. 
They formed two lines which created a tunnel; much like the cheerleader tunnel
we were used to, only 10 times bigger.  As the fight song started up, the
audience stood up, sang, and clapped to the beat.  Although some of the players
seemed to know this would happen, I was totally taken by surprise.  The team
ran through the tunnel. 

As I ran, it occurred to me that
when we were looking for groups to sign up with on that first day of school,
the band was the first group we turned down.  As a football player, you knew
about the band.  You knew that they entertained the fans while you were in the
locker room, but you never considered them as part of your program.  However,
at that moment, that big group of band nerds, the group that we had walked away
from on day one, had suddenly become a powerful part of our team.  The band
would later stand right on the sidelines during the game.  They played music to
fire up the crowd, and played the East Whitaker fight song every time we
scored.

Halfway through the 2nd quarter,
the score was tied.  With the anxiety at an all-time high, I heard someone
behind me yelling to the crowd for an “H”.  Without wasting any time, the crowd
fulfilled his order.  Again he asked for an “O”.  Again, the crowd didn’t miss
a beat.  I turned around to see an elderly man dressed from head to toe in dark
purple and aqua standing up with his hands on either side of his mouth
screaming loudly at the crowd for an “R”.  He continued until the crowd
enthusiastically spelled H-O-R-N-E-T-S.  Standing next to him was another man,
also dressed from head to toe in our Hornets colors, banging on a cowbell.  The
atmosphere was certainly charged as the crowd was louder than the cheerleaders.

We went into the locker room at
halftime with the game still tied.  The coach told us that we were doing
everything right and there was no need to get discouraged.  We practiced hard,
and that hard work would pay off as the game went on.  He told us that the
intensity of that week’s practices weren’t just directed at working on plays for
the game; we were working on enduring the speed and tempo of a high-paced
game.  It was that endurance, achieved through practice, which would help us
win this game.

The game remained tied until the
last few minutes of the 4th quarter.  Mike returned a punt and put us 40 yards
away from the end zone.  After three unsuccessful deep throws by our
quarterback, we had one chance left to score or we would be taking the game
into overtime.  We were exhausted from battle, so overtime would feel like a
second game to us.  We were more than willing to try preventing overtime. 
Unfortunately, we were too far out for our kicker to attempt a field goal, so
we had to come up with a single running or throwing play that would get us the
40 yards we needed.  During the time out, I was asked to join the offensive
huddle.  I figured I would be used on the offensive line, so I was in complete
shock when the coach told the team that I would be getting the ball.  He
reasoned that the defense would never see it coming, my size would be hard to
take down, and my speed had increased to the point where I could be trusted to
actually move the ball.

From the huddle, I went to stand on
the offensive line next to the tackle.  To their defense, I could’ve been
confused with a tight end, which was usually used as an extra blocker on the
line of scrimmage.  Once the ball was snapped, I ran over to the quarterback,
who then handed me the ball.  By the time their defense realized I had the
ball, I was already 10 yards ahead of the line of scrimmage.  At that point, it
was a foot race to the goal line between me and the entire Wolf defense. 
Although my speed had increased, I still wasn’t as fast as their defenders, so
that 10-yard head start was definitely a necessity.  They didn’t catch up to me
until the 7-yard line.  By then, I had so much momentum going that I felt like
nothing would take me down.  Suddenly, with the weight of three defenders on my
back, I struggled to move as the weight too much to bear.  I could feel my
teammates trying to push me the last two yards into the end zone, but my legs
finally gave out and I fell hard like a tree cut down in the woods.  Then…
silence. 

Did I blow it?  Did I let down the
team, the coaches, the town?  After what felt like minutes of silence, I finally
had answers; the chords of that familiar fight song I knew so well, the
eruption of the crowd, the entire team tackling me in the end zone.  Mike might
have been our best player, breaking the school records that night for both
touchdowns and rushing yards in a regular season, but I won the game!  I made
us perfect!