Win, or Else Page 6

CHAPTER 5

  REBUILDING

  “R-R-R-Ring - - R-R-R-Ring - - R-R-R-Ring”. It was the telephone in the Andrews’ home at 7:30 Saturday morning.

  “Hello,” answered Mrs. Andrews. “All right, I’ll get him.” Mrs. Andrews hurried to the bedroom where the coach was enjoying the luxury of sleeping a little later than usual. “Bob,” she called. “Bob, hurry! It’s the police on the phone. They want you, hurry!”

  In a moment, Mr. Andrews was wide awake and bounded to the telephone. “Hello - - (pause) - - No! - - I don’t know! I don’t think they would - -. Well, will you let me know as soon as you find out? Thank you for calling.”

  Andrews slumped down into a nearby chair.

  “What is it, Bob? What happened? You’re white as a sheet.” asked his wife.

  “There was an accident over near Whitetown this morning. One of the kids was killed. Three more are seriously injured and are in the hospital. No identification, they had their swimming suits on. They think two of them were the Brown boys but they can’t ‘rouse anyone there on the phone.

  The coach wasn’t sure what to do next. He ate breakfast, but it was very tasteless. He dressed to go downtown but he didn’t know where he would go or what he would do. Before going to town, he telephoned the Brown home. The phone rang for a long time, but no one answered, so he hung up.

  He drove down to the police station where he found out that they had just received further news. The Brown twins had been in the accident but were not seriously injured. Tim had a concussion. Tom had bruises and a badly sprained leg and possible internal injuries.

  The police had been given this story. The boys had been at a party at Brown’s house. After the party they had taken their dates home. After two o’clock they had decided to go swimming. They had gone home, changed into their swimming suits and went for a swim in White Lake near Whitetown. After swimming, they started for home. Len, the driver, missed a curve on a back road, jumped a ditch and rolled his car over several times.

  Len had been pinned under the car and probably died immediately. The others had been thrown from the car. Tim and one other boy had been knocked out. Tom had thought his leg was broken and feared moving, so he had just laid there.

  The scene, which was first seen by a passing motorist much later, was a real mess. Police received the call a little after six o’clock. An ambulance took the boys to the hospital.

  “Oh, yes,” added the desk man, who was reporting the news to the coach. “The officer, who investigated found lots of beer cans in the car, some empty and some full. It looks like they must have had some party.”

  Anxiety for the welfare of his players was soon replaced with anger in the mind of Mr. Andrews. The last thing the policeman had said was, “They must have had some party. Yet, the last thing he had told them was to get home and get their rest.

  Questions began popping up in the coach’s mind, “What were they doing out in a car that time of night? Who else had been at their party? Why the beer cans?”

  Last night he was worried that someone would be hurt and lost to the team. Now, he wished that they had been hurt playing football rather than this way. Now, he would have to kick them off the team. Even if they were stars; flagrant violation of training rules could not be tolerated. There was no other way than to handle them.

  The talk of the town, over the weekend, was the accident. Most of the fans speculated, immediately, on their ability to play after their injuries. It seemed to most of the followers of the team that they would be welcomed back to the team IF they could play. Even some of the players reasoned that they would not be dropped; after all, the team couldn’t win without them.

  At Monday night’s practice Mr. Andrews made it official. The Brown boys were through playing for him. “Win, lose or draw,” he said, “we will not play anyone who tries to cheat on his teammates. Winning is important, but learning how to cooperate with the team is more important. If you don’t learn this, you’ve missed the biggest part of the game.

  “I’m not going to ask, but I hope none of you were at that party. If you were - - - - - - -- “

  “You don’t need to worry about that, Coach,” interrupted Cain, “Some of us were asked, but we didn’t go. Maybe we should have told you.”

  “No, I don’t want any squealers, either. This is your team. You fellows should take care of those things yourself. I know we’ll miss those boys, but if that was the way they wanted it, they probably wouldn’t have helped us anyway. I hope you fellows learn a lesson from this.”

  “Enough of this standing around as if we’re at a funeral, we have work to do, and lots of it. Let’s run the laps.” Thus, Coach Andrews ended the discussion about dismissing half of his backfield.

  When they divided the team, adjustments were made in the line as well as the backfield. Guts was put into the offensive as well as defense. Pat Olson, a junior guard, was demoted to the second team. Don Lake, who was a good runner and blocker, was moved to guard and Guts would try his hand at center.

  Guts was quick at learning to snap the ball to the quarterback. He also quickly learned to hold his position for pass protection and to block both left and right. Before practice was over he looked as if he had played the position for years. The only part of the job he couldn’t do yet was to hike the ball accurately on the long snap for kicks; but for that he would switch places with Don Lake, who could make the long snap when needed.

  Changes in the backfield were more difficult to make. Dick Schultz would be given the chance to play quarterback. He had played the position on the “B” team last year doing a creditable job. This year he had been relegated to sit on the bench as the number two quarterback, but now the success of the team weighed heavily on his ability to fill Tom’s shoes.

  Joe Blaine, who had been working at fullback, would now work part time as quarterback, too, to back up Schultz. This was the same part he had played last year and a few times when he was needed, he did well as the signal caller.

  Gene Fry, a junior who had been working behind Tim at left halfback, would be moved up to the first team. Gene was a fast runner but didn’t have Tim’s speed or his all-around ability. If he could keep his “glass eyes” in his head, he should be able to do satisfactorily. He had been teased a lot about losing his “glass eye” since the incident last Friday.

  Replacing two experienced defensive backs was not going to be easy either. Smitty and Jim Torkle were to be given first chance at the positions. Smitty had the tools. If he would think well enough to do the job was another matter. Jim Torkle was a junior halfback with little experience. He would probably do better than Fry, who had trouble seeing things from a distance and was better than any of the other candidates available for the job.

  The Foxville Booster Club was a tradition that went with football at the school. The adult social club was open to any interested boosters of the team. They met every Tuesday evening during the football season to discuss football and help when they could. The concession stand was one of their projects. The money raised from the profits had been used for a whirlpool bath, football scoreboard and other extras for the team and the school.

  The Booster Club meetings usually featured the watching of film of the previous game, (the projector was also financed by the club). Discussions of the games were often held with the coach answering questions. Sometimes, as they did the first night, time was taken to get workers for the concession stand, or to plan activities of the organization.

  After listening politely as the coach showed the films and commented about the last game, the lights went on and the boosters began asking questions.

  “I understand you aren’t going to let the Brown twins play.” asked the first questioner.

  “That’s correct,” started Mr. Andrews working his way unknowingly into the trap they had set for him. “I feel sorry for those boys. Not because they were hurt, but because they tried to cheat the
ir teammates and they got caught.”

  “Then why did you kick them off?” asked the same man.

  “We have training rules which are designed to help the boys learn how to care for their bodies . . . and to help them to be in good mental condition. They all know the rules, and anyone who does not cooperate does not play. Eleven-thirty was the time they were to have been in last Friday. They were still chasing around after three o’clock.”

  The majority of the people present understood the reason behind the coach’s action and supported him. It was evident that some of those attending were opposed to his actions. They came prepared to give Mr. Andrews a hard time.

  “Your training rules are too old fashioned,” began one young man in a very angry tone. “Most of the kids in this town smoke. Do you think you can stop them? All you do is make them hide when they smoke. Why don’t you come up-to-date? This is the 20th century we’re in.”

  Another man hit on the drinking rule, “What are you going to do about it if a kid has a beer at home and his folks give it to him?” Then without waiting for an answer continued, “Then what’s the difference if he drinks at home or at a party?”

  “My daughter goes with a football player. He brings her home so he can be home by ten o’clock. Now what fun can kids have before ten o’clock?” This was a mother attacking the school rule on the time athletes should be home. “I can’t see how that is any of your business, what time our kids get home. That should be left up to the parents. Some people need more sleep than others. Shouldn’t parents know more about that than some teacher?”

  By this time Andrews was burning with rage. It was not surprising that some people were angry with him. That was not unusual. The degree of antagonism shown was very upsetting - - and they weren’t done yet. Several more stood to criticize parts of his rules.

  A reporter for the local newspaper was the last to speak. He probably said what the others wanted to say but couldn’t. “It seems to some of us that you are the one who has caused this trouble. We have a good team, but it won’t be much without those Brown boys. Sure they broke training rules. Lots of kids do it and don’t get caught? You have to expect that from kids. They got hurt in the wreck, isn’t that enough for you? We think you should apologize to them and ask them to come back out for football.”

  “APOLOGIZE - - Ask them to come back?” Mr. Andrews was on his feet. “Are you serious?” he asked in disbelief.

  “I certainly am”, continued the reporter, “and if you don’t get them back, things are going to be pretty rough for you. If we don’t win this championship, you had better look for a new job.”

  “Do you have anything to say, Coach?” asked the President of the club.

  “I guess I’m in the wrong place,” he began, “I thought this was the Booster Club. It seems more like the “booter” club.” This caused some laughter and permitted the loyal fans to show their support of the coach by applauding. While the clapping lasted, the coach cooled down considerably and decided on his reply.

  He thought these people who object were acting just like kids when you take their teddy bear away from them. They need some teaching, too. The reply was short and simple, “I was hired to coach boys, not to win a championship. Learning to play the game of life is more important than beating someone else. We’ll play to win, but we’ll play by the rules.

  “If you, in your life or your business, don’t like the rules imposed on you; you still must follow them, or suffer the consequence. That’s the way the game of life is played. That’s also the way we teach it in football.”

  Practice Wednesday was welcomed by the coach. During the night he had rolled and tossed thinking often about the speeches made against him, and thinking of things he should have said but didn’t. Much of his spare time in school was also spent thinking about the incident. Mr. Andrews was anxious to get out to the field and work on the rebuilding of the team.

  Offense took up most of the practice time. New plays were never introduced and old plays were run over and over again in an attempt to perfect them.

  Defensive practice was short, but it was long enough to produce another “Smitty Goof” as the boys called them. Smitty had caught a nice pass from Schultz in the early part of practice, taking it over his shoulder and sprinting away from the defense. Now, while playing defensive back, he made another nice catch. This time he picked off a pass from the intended receiver, circled around, and headed for the goal posts. When he started back toward the rest of the team Coach Andrews met him.

  “Nice catch, Smitty!”

  “Thanks, Coach.”

  “But where did you think you were going with it?”

  “For a touchdown, where else?”

  “But, you ran the wrong way! Didn’t you know the difference?”

  A few plays later, another pass was intercepted neatly by Smitty. He was running toward the sidelines when he caught it. He circled around in an arc, and again headed for the wrong goal. When he had run a few yards, he heard the team laugh. He stopped, walked toward the coach, and sheepishly asked, “Did I do it again?”

  A light practice was held on Thursday night. This was the last practice before the first league game. Rather than being down in spirits from the loss of their backs, the team seemed to be in higher spirits. They knew those who were on the team now were trying their best. No one had felt that way about Tim and Tom.

  When Coach told them, “I think we’ll win this one,” he was speaking his true conviction. Ellison would have the home team advantage; which is a big help, especially early in the season. The “Foxes” had the better line, which also had to be considered as an advantage. “If we can stop them, we should win number one.” Mr. Andrew had said to his team.

  It rained Thursday night and again on Friday. There was a threat of more for Friday night. When the teams took the field, they both were aware of the advantage the heavier, more experienced Foxville line would have. Strategy for the game was formulated accordingly.

  Ellison gambled on long touchdown passes from the start rather than trying to run against the better line on the spongy field. Every play was the type of pass a team would use if they were behind with very little time left to play. On some of the plays, the quarterback faded back into the pocket to pass. Other times he rolled out to one side or the other giving his ends more time to get open. Almost every pass was thrown to their tall right end.

  The Foxville line was effective in spoiling most of the passes by rushing the passer before he could get set. This resulted in his passes missing their mark time after time.

  The new combination of backs used by the “Foxes” was no more effective than the “Chiefs”. Each drive started toward the Ellison goal was stopped by the home team or by fumbles.

  Shortly before halftime the “Chiefs” hit pay dirt on one of their long passes. The quarterback took the snap from center and faked a handoff to the halfback going to his left. While the quarterback rolled out to the right, the big right end went straight down the field and the left end went racing into the same zone that the right end was in.

  Effective coverage by Smitty and Torkle took them both to the same spot covering the likely receivers but leaving the whole left side undefended. It was into this zone that the “Chiefs’ ” halfback went. He had carried out his fake so well that when the “Foxes” realized he didn’t have the ball they ignored him. He kept running and when the quarterback had pulled the defense to the right side, he threw a long pass to the halfback who was all alone by now. After catching the ball, it was a cinch to score. No one was near him.

  The Ellison team lined up for the extra point attempt. Even though the Foxville line poured through, the kicker made a good kick. The scoreboard showed the hometown fans that their team led 7 – 0.

  Rain began falling soon after the “Foxes” received the kickoff. This caused the strategy to change again. At the halftime break both coaches had told th
eir teams to play a ground game instead of trying passes. The turf was already wet, and with the extra rain it would be next to impossible to cut or to pass well.

  “This should help us,” explained Andrews. “They gambled on their best in the first half. They don’t have a running game to go with their passing, so this half should be ours.”

  The second half did seem to belong to the “Foxes”. A steady drizzle handcuffed the passers and receivers, while the ground game of the Foxville team worked well.

  In the third quarter the heavier, stronger line of the “Foxes” moved the opponent’s line out of the way opening hole after hole for short gains. Sometimes the quarterback pushed ahead for a few yards. Blaine, the fullback, drove hard with his feet kicking up the mud. The halfbacks also took turns grinding out a few yards at a time.

  Inside the ten yard line Schultz crossed up the defense with a daring, but successful pass play. With the defenders pulled in tight to stop the running game, he tossed a short, basketball type pass to Augie Bent just over the line. The defenders, moving up to stop what they thought was a sure running play, couldn’t change directions in time. Augie scored the touchdown.

  Because of the rain, Mr. Andrews decided against kicking the extra point try. He signaled to Schultz not to kick.

  Dickie Schultz, elated because his change of strategy had been successful on the touchdown, again decided against a straight ahead play. He faked a handoff to the fullback going into the guard’s hole, then pitched back to Smitty - - but Smitty wasn’t there. He had tried to turn on the soft ground but couldn’t. Thus, the ball was thrown backwards to nobody.

  “What was he trying to do?” asked the coach to anyone who was listening as he turned angrily and began walking back along the sideline.

  In a moment the coach was again shouting encouragement to his team as they returned to the center of the field. “That’s all right gang. We need another touchdown to win anyway.”

  Ellison tried a few passes but with no success. Their line play was weak, and they didn’t manage to get even one first down in the second half.

  It was not until late in the game that the “Foxes” were able to put together another serious threat to score. Fumbles or miscues had stopped one drive after another until then.

  A recovered fumble on the 18 yard line opened the way for the last quarter score. After working the ball down to the two yard line Schultz called for a time out.

  “What should we try now, Coach?” asked the signal caller of his coach near the sidelines.

  “It’s first down and two to go”, said the coach slowly trying to figure out which play to suggest. “Let’s try the two-play sequence.”

  Back in the huddle, Dick called the plays. Then he reviewed them for Smitty who couldn’t remember what to do.

  The first play was a straight drive by Smitty. This gained only a few inches. To the “Chiefs” surprise the visitors lined up the second of their sequence without a huddle. The quick play found Blaine in the end zone before the defense was even lined up properly.

  The visiting fans sent up a great cheer which could be heard in spite of the steady rain still falling. His teammates began pounding and slapping Blaine on the back. He had scored, and now the “Foxes” were ahead.

  “Hold it, gang. It’s no good,” called Dickie, his hands hanging limp at his side.

  “What’s wrong, Dick?” asked Cain from the ground where he had gone down with the defender he had blocked out.

  “How come?” pleaded Guts, who had pushed his man way back into the end zone.

  “Look at the referee,” Dick said pointing to the official.

  Ellison fans now had a chance to cheer as the man in the black and white shirt stepped off five yards against Foxville; then gave the signal for illegal procedure.

  “What’s wrong, Ref?” Cain asked the referee.

  “Right halfback started too soon.”

  “That’s Smitty!” said Cain, turning to the halfback he continued, “See what you did now? What’s wrong with you? Can’t you count?”

  “Yeah! I just wanted to get started to get a block.”

  “You don’t even block. You only fake on that play,” said Cain.

  “All right, we aren’t done yet,” said Dickie as he knelt in the huddle.

  “Smitty, we’ll give you a chance to get it this time. We need seven yards. 163 left on three.” Then he paused, “got it, Smitty? No goofs.”

  Smitty nodded that he understood what he was to do. When they lined up he was determined to score and make up for his mistake. At the signal he started running the slanting path he was to take. The ball was given to him, and he continued running toward the left tackle, Tiny Small, who was opening the hole for him.

  Just beyond the line, however, he was met by two tacklers. One hit him neatly at his knees; the other hit him in the middle of his back. As he went down the wet ball squirted from his grasp into the end zone where it was downed by the Ellison boys for a touchback.

  The “Chiefs” easily stalled out the remaining minute and won the game by the 7 to 6 score.

  Ten miles on the bus, returning home after a game of this type seemed as if it took hours. Wet, disgusted boys sat quietly, thinking while the bus rumbled over the road to Foxville. It was not fun for the boys to work so hard to win the game, and to have victory so near only to end up one point short of winning. This had been the story two weeks in a row.

  Back at the Foxville High School the coach called his team together before they dressed to go home.

  “I only have two things to say about the game tonight. First, I’m sorry you didn’t win tonight. You played good football, and I’m proud of you. Every game has a winner and a loser. Tonight we won the statistics but lost the game. Keep working and luck will be with us. We’ll win our share.

  “Secondly, I’ll tell you again; we have some new plays which we need to help our scoring. If you are all back next week, we’ll learn them. Know what I mean?”

  Most of the team nodded. They understood. They also felt better after hearing some kind words from him. This would be a long weekend.