My Name Is River Blue (29 page)

In addition to
the football team playing well, there was pressure on the coaches and players
to be good role models to all the young boys from their part of the state, so
parents would pay the hefty fee for their boys to attend one of the summer camps.
Harper Springs would be hosting three sessions of Hawks Summer Football Camp
for junior high kids, and some of the Hawks coaches and players would work each
camp.

The immediate
future was not looking bright for the Harper Springs Hawks and their fans. The
loss of three key players was devastating, and the team could focus on little
else but the fact that those players had been permanently expelled from school.
None of us knew the whole story, but earlier that afternoon we heard that the solicitor
had brought additional charges after finding that the boys were deeply involved
in drug trafficking to minors. Since Casey and Josh were seventeen years old,
the state would try them as adults, and there was a real possibility that they
would serve time. At sixteen, Joe would go to family court and probably do time
in Stockwell.

Coach Haney and
his assistant coaches worked hard to have us ready to play and did their best
to keep our minds on the game. Their biggest challenge was improving my
competency on enough plays to get by the first game, and getting the offense
used to Max and me instead of Casey and Joe. Something as simple as my
teammates becoming used to my cadence at the line of scrimmage was more
difficult than I thought it would be. Preparing Max and I to play critical
roles as starters was an almost impossible job to do in only a day and a half.

Principal Wilson
worked around the rule that said athletes could not play in a game if they
didn't attend classes the day before and the day of a game. Every player on the
offense checked in with homeroom and then we went straight to the field to
practice our plays with me at quarterback and Max at tailback. We worked until
nine o'clock Thursday night and until three o'clock on Friday. Both days at
practice, teachers with open periods took turns reading from textbooks on the
sideline. If anyone had asked us, we could have said that teachers definitely
gave lectures.

Thirty minutes
before kickoff on Friday night, our locker room atmosphere resembled that of a
funeral home viewing room. I tried not to be paranoid, but I didn't think it
was my imagination that some of the older players were very cold towards Max
and me.

Instead of
showing excitement for the season opener, we all quietly waited for Coach Haney
to give his pre-game talk, and he didn't have to ask us to calm down before he
spoke. He did what I would expect any coach in his situation to do and that was
to make a good attempt at inspiring us to overcome adversity. He told us that
we should not give up on our goal to win a conference championship just because
we lost three players.

"Listen
guys, we can still achieve our goal if everyone gives his best effort. I'm
sorry that we lost three players, and I know they were not just teammates, but
good friends to some of you. I care about those boys, and I hope they get their
lives straight, but I'm not giving up my dream for this team because they made
selfish choices. Now each of you has a choice to make.'

"We have a
new quarterback and a new tailback, and they need your support. I have faith in
them that they will give maximum effort, and that they will improve with each
game. Tonight, I want the other team and every one of our fans to see your
character. To see how we respond when we've been punched in the gut. It's time
for us to focus on the game, support each other, and kick some Iverson
ass."

As we ran on to
the field, I loved the roar of the home crowd, the booming sound of the band,
and the electric atmosphere of Friday night football under the lights. I could
never remember feeling such excitement, and I hoped that I could play well
enough to give us a chance to win. I knew if we could get by the first game
that I would have another week to run live reps of the plays.

No one knew at
the time, but I would have even longer to prepare for the second game of the
season. Because of the terrorist attacks on September 11, the second game,
scheduled for September 14, would be delayed a week as would the rest of the
games on our schedule.

I stood next to
Coach Haney as the Knights kicked off to us and was thrilled when I saw the
ball coming down into Ant's arms. I yelled for my roommate as I watched him
return the ball to our forty-two yard line to give us great field position for
our offense to start. The coach planned to sub Ant in and out at wide receiver
because he and I had worked together on pass patterns so much that Coach Haney
thought it would be a positive for the team.

I tried not to
show it, but I couldn't have been much more nervous than I was in my first
huddle. After I relayed the play that Coach Haney called, there was weak
acknowledgement and very little enthusiasm from my teammates when we broke the
huddle and went to the line. There were no positive vibes from anyone with the
exception of Max.

On our first
play, the Knights stuffed Max at the line for no gain. I wasn't sure if it was
a good play by the defense or poor blocking by our line. The second time it
happened, I decided that it was some of both. On third down, I dropped back to
pass, but I never had time to look for a receiver because the Knights blitzed,
and our line did little to slow them down. I was hit so hard that I struggled
to stand. The Iverson defensive players promised me that I wouldn't make it
through the first half.

At the junior
high level, I had been bigger than most of the players were, but on that high
school field, I was only of average size compared to most of the upperclassmen.
I struggled to pretend that I wasn't in pain as I walked off the field with Max
by my side. When I reached the sideline, Coach Haney was chewing on our
offensive line for their poor efforts at blocking, and he threatened to replace
any player who couldn't do his job. When he asked, I told the coach that I was
fine, but I wanted to speak to my line. He nodded, and I limped over to where
the players were sitting on the bench.

I looked at my
teammates, and as calmly as I could, I ask them why. "Guys, you're not trying
to block for Max and me, and I want to know why you would do that."

No one said
anything. They ignored me, and I lost it.

"Are you
afraid to talk to a freshman? Is there not a single one of you man enough to
tell me to my face?"

That got their
attention as several of them stood. Bob Fielder, the senior center, got in my
face. "Maybe we don't like blocking for guys who rat on teammates, so they
can take their spots. Even when they're wrong, you never rat."

I was clueless.
Max had come to stand next to me. I looked at him, and he shook his head that
he knew no more than I did, so I asked. "What in hell are you talking
about?"

"Casey told
me what you did. He offered you, Jefferson, and Summers a ride to burn one, and
you called the cops on them before they could get home and hide their shit.
They weren't even a mile down the road when the cops stopped them."

I stood closer
to Bob and spoke as loudly as he did. "First of all, he didn't say shit to
us about going to smoke weed that night or any night. Second, we didn't call
anyone. According to what you're saying, we had to have called as soon as he
drove off. What did we use for a phone? None of us has a cell phone. Coach Booker
came out to lock up when Casey was driving away, and he talked to us for about
fifteen minutes until our rides came. He'll tell you that he didn't let any of
us back inside to use the phone."

Bob looked
confused. I knew he wanted to believe me, but he wasn't saying anything.

"Look, Bob,
I'm sorry about Casey and them, but they made the choices that got them in
trouble and hurt the team. There is nothing more important to me than the Hawks,
and I will
never
make a decision to let down any of you guys. For the
sake of the team, let's drop this shit and play the game."

Bob couldn't let
it go without a warning. "Alright, Blue. We'll support you for the team's
sake, but we better not find out that you ratted on those guys, so you could
take their spots."

I held out my
fist, and Bob hesitated, but then bumped it. The rest of the guys around us
threw their hands in on ours to show their support. I never have understood why
Casey said that I called the cops unless it was just spite because I was taking
his spot.

When I walked
over to Coach Haney, I saw Coach Booker move to where I had stood in front of
Bob. I found out later that the coach verified my story. Coach Haney told me to
let him know of any guy who wasn't doing his job when we went back on the
field. He added, "River, you did good with them."

The rest of the
first half, our defense held the Knights scoreless, which was a good thing
because when their defense wasn't stopping our offense, we screwed up and
stopped ourselves. We had several penalties for delay of game and jumping
offside. Between Max and me, we mishandled several handoffs, and I threw four
incomplete passes because the receivers weren't where I thought they would be.
On every pass play, I scrambled for my life, because even though my line was
trying to block for me, Iverson's defensive line was dominating us.

The second half
began with the Knights taking the kickoff to their thirty-yard line where they
began a long drive. They took the short yardage our defense gave them and methodically
marched for the first score of the game. With the extra point, the Knights led
7-0. After Max fumbled near our own end zone, the Knights scored on the next
play. The third quarter ended with Iverson kicking a field goal after they
intercepted a bad pass from me. Iverson led 17-0.

As I watched
Iverson kick the field goal, Coach Haney grabbed my facemask, pulled me to him,
and yelled right in my face. I had never seen him so angry, and he was angry
with me. He scared me enough that I felt my bowels churning.

"Blue, you
got too much talent to cower like a beaten dog, but that's what you look like,
and your offense won't follow you that way. I haven't seen the River Blue I
know for one damn play. Make the offense yours. Take charge, and do it now. Make
something happen. You hear me?"

"Yes,
sir." It was embarrassing for Coach Haney to jump my ass in front of the
team, but he was right. I was too tentative in everything I did. I was so scared
of failing that I wasn't playing, and the offense took their attitude from me.

At the beginning
of the fourth quarter, when I took the field with our offense, I was angry and
determined that Coach Haney would never speak to me that way again. I was done
with sounding like a scared freshman and acting like I had never been in a
tough fight. In my head, I heard Coach Riddle say, "Execute the play, and
let your instincts take over."

I disregarded
the fact that all of the players were older than I was, and when I spoke in the
huddle, I sounded aggressive and confident. I think I would have punched any
teammate who argued with me.

"Guys,
three bad quarters is all on me. I was scared, and I didn't do my best but that
shit is over. For the rest of this game, I'm giving everything I got, and I need
you to do the same."

I sensed the
change immediately. When I took the snap from the shotgun, the line gave me the
time to throw a twenty-yard bullet that Ant caught near the sideline. The next
play, Max Summers swept around right end with me blocking for him. I literally
left my feet and threw my body into an Iverson linebacker to free Max, who
broke two tackles for a fifteen-yard gain.

When I took the
next snap, I rolled to my right, and then scrambled back left with Knights
chasing me. On the run, I unloaded a strike thirty yards away to Ant, who
caught it in stride and outran the defensive backs to score our first touchdown
of the game. Rollins Memorial Stadium erupted with noise loud enough to shake
the stands along with the nerves of the Knights.

After I released
the pass to Ant, I took a teeth-rattling hit that flattened me. It hurt so bad
I had tears in my eyes, but I quickly stood up to show I was fine. My adrenaline
was good temporary pain medicine, but it didn't help much the next day.

When I came off
the field, my teammates were on their feet to greet the offense. I acted a
little psychotic, as I shouted at every defensive player to hold the Knights on
the next series. I guaranteed that the offense would score if the defense would
just get us the ball again. Our defense fought hard, and the Knights called
running plays to avoid a turnover and run out the clock. After three plays,
they punted the ball back to us. Brett Holloman, our team's defensive captain, ran
to me on the sideline and yelled at me to put up or shut up. I grinned and was determined
that I would put up my best.

We took over on
our own forty-two yard line. Knowing that we needed to score quickly, the Knights
were defending the pass, which left a big hole up the middle for Max Summers to
gain eighteen yards. The defense still played for a pass when Max hit the hole
in the middle of the line followed by me carrying the ball. Max threw a vicious
block to cut down a linebacker, freeing me to run at full speed. I made two
Knights miss and ran until their safety tripped me up at the Knights' five-yard
line. The next play I threw a corner fade to our tall, senior receiver, Matt
Broome, who out jumped the defender to pull down my high pass for a touchdown. It
was quite a catch of my poor throw. The extra point pulled us to within three
points with a little over a minute left to play.