Chapter 10
Practice the following week continued to get tougher in preparation for the start of the season. The Panthers had another scrimmage on Saturday night against Hon, another Arkansas school. But they spent most of the practice working on fundamentals and preparing for the opener the following week against Conser.
After his performance in the Bates scrimmage, D.J. got more snaps with the first team, forming a tandem with Skip that had the potential to be outstanding.
Derwin saw less action as the other running backs, not that it bothered him. He liked running the ball but preferred defense. He was also smart enough to realize D.J. was a better back. And whatever was best for his team was good with him.
The hitting in practice was intense, pleasing the coaches. Ichabod was pretty much set on his starting eleven. He still considered moving Lucky and D.J. into the secondary but knew Cole was not crazy about that idea.
Lucky tried to avoid Gabby all week. But everywhere he went or turned, she was there, usually with D.J. He was nice to her, but really just wanted to stay away.
She spent a lot of time with D.J. and it looked like they were now a couple. Each time Lucky saw them, it made him feel like he had swallowed his Adam’s apple.
In the past, D.J., Happy and Lucky got together and spent at least one night playing Monopoly or video games. Andy was invited to join in and played his first game, getting trounced badly, along with D.J. and Lucky.
Happy was the winner in Monopoly, as usual. He liked playing Monopoly almost as much as lifting weights, actually studying strategy and reading everything possible about the game. Nobody had a chance that night. Happy’s strategy was sound and the game was clinched before it was halfway over.
They played at D.J.’s house because he had a game room and his parents were away, so they could laugh and make noise without bothering anybody. The only thing that interrupted the game was two phone calls that caused D.J. to retreat into the other room. Nobody asked or probably even cared who was calling, but Lucky had a good idea who called.
---------------------
Just like the boys, Petros’ coaches spent at least one night together every week, talking about the game, the team and whatever else came up. They had done it for years and since none of them were married or had any prospects lined up, it was something they would probably continue.
They met in their office, took the phone off the hook and closed the curtain. They brought a few snacks and while this could technically be considered work, nobody really looked at it that way as it was too much fun to be considered part of their job.
The three men sat around a table, looking to see what goodies the other coaches brought. Stub and Cole stared at something Ichabod had prepared. It looked like nothing they had ever seen. Ichabod was a terrible cook and seemed to have topped himself with this dish. Stub always said he would be skinny too if his cooking was as bad as Ichabod’s.
Even Ichabod usually wound up skipping his contribution, realizing something had gone terribly wrong. Not that it kept him from trying. Ichabod studied cookbooks and tried to follow the directions, but usually wound up with a disaster.
“Ichabod, what the heck is this?” Stub finally asked.
It was green with what appeared to be tomatoes and lettuce on top.
“It’s a casserole,” Ichabod proudly announced.
“You trying to poison us so you can take over?”
“Of course not.”
“It looks like something my cat throws up,” Stub added, an image that failed to make the food look better.
“You don’t have to eat it,” Ichabod commented, insulted again by Stub’s critique.
“That’s good. I don’t think I could.”
Cole mixed in a little bit of everything on his paper plate, even some of Ichabod’s casserole. He did not want to touch that slop either, but his first bite was of the casserole, since Ichabod was staring at him.
It was one of the most disgusting things Cole ever put in his mouth. His taste buds protested immediately. He hoped his face was not showing how terrible it tasted.
“How is it?” Ichabod asked, leaning forward in his chair and staring at Cole with a hopeful look on his face.
“It’s uh, not all that bad,” Cole answered.
Stub was not as kind, of course. He took a bite and immediately spit it in the trashcan. He wiped away any remaining residue from his lips, shaking his head while glaring at Ichabod.
“Ichabod, you’ve really topped yourself this time,” he commented.
“What do you mean?” Ichabod asked.
“This has got to be the most disgusting thing you’ve ever made.”
Ichabod’s shoulders slumped and his face registered the pain. He enjoyed cooking and always wanted to be a chef. He tried so hard to make meals his friends would enjoy. But it always seemed something went wrong and the meal was a disaster.
It could not be that bad, Ichabod tried convincing himself. He knew Cole had not liked it either, just did not say anything to keep from hurting his feelings. Ichabod summoned his courage and took a bite. It was all he could do to swallow and required even more effort to keep it from coming back up. Sadly, it was that bad.
“You’re right,” he agreed. “It is bad.”
Stub and Cole laughed over Ichabod’s reaction as they added other foods to their plate.
They finished building their plates and got something to drink. Then, they attacked the food.
“You guys ready?” Cole asked, as he grabbed the remote and turned on the television.
Stub and Ichabod looked longingly at the remote in Cole’s hand, wishing they had it. It was the classic case of remote envy, a disease running rampant whenever adult males gathered together and somebody else had control of the remote.
Nobody else had the touch or timing, of course, to know when to switch from one channel to the next when it got boring or a commercial came on.
Cole put on a tape of Conser, the Panthers’ opponent in the first game the following week. They were familiar with Conser since the two schools had played each other to open the season for the last ten years. It was typical of Cole’s early schedule. Conser was tough, a team as good as any team the Panthers would play aside from Hodgen.
Petros only won two out of the ten games. The games were usually fairly close before Conser pulled it out in the last half.
Cole knew this would be a typical year for the Cowboys, only this team had the potential to be better. Conser went to the state semifinals in Class 3A the previous year. The only preseason ranking Cole had seen listed Conser as third in Class 3A.
Petros was not ranked in Class 2A, an omission that did not surprise Cole, but did bother him.
Since most of Conser’s players were back from the previous year, they were watching film of last year’s 27-6 win over the Panthers.
It had been a sign of things to come for the Panthers, a game that was not even as close as the final score indicated. That game had started Petros on a tailspin the Panthers never recovered from.
Cole knew the Cowboys would be better this year. But he knew his team should be better, also.
While watching the film, Cole remembered how Conser dominated the line on both sides, opening huge holes on offense and stuffing the Panthers with its defense. Petros did not have the size or speed to compete last year.
Cole hoped it was different this time.
“You guys think D.J.’s ready to start at running back?” Cole asked.
“Yes,” Ichabod answered.
“Without a doubt,” Stub stated. “You put him and Skip back there and that’s the best set of running backs we’ve had in a long time.”
“I’m not sure if we’ll start him but he’ll play a lot so don’t wear him out on defense,” Cole directed, looking at Ichabod.
“Yeah, that will make us better,” Stub commented. “Now just as soon as we get Lucky in at quarterback…”
“Gary’s our quarterback,” Cole interrupted. “He won’t lose any games for us.”
“But he won’t win any either,” Ichabod pointed out.
“That may be true,” Cole admitted. “But Gary’s worked harder than anybody else and deserves to start. If he can’t do the job, then we’ll make a change.”
“I’d just be worried that we’ll be a little light in the backfield,” Stub mentioned. “Both those guys we’ll have at running back are pretty small and we might have a tough time on short yardage plays.”
“I was thinking about that earlier,” Cole responded. “We might just load up back there.”
Ichabod and Stub smiled. They knew what Cole meant by “load up”. He wanted to put another running back in the backfield between the two split backs and run some plays out of the old T-formation. They also knew a part of him would love to run that offense all the time.
“We’re gonna go with the ‘T’ on short yardage?” Stub asked.
“Either that or the bone,” Cole answered, referring to the wishbone offense that was so popular back in the 70’s. It was an offense Cole always loved but never used because his teams never had the right personnel.
Cole knew Derwin or Happy could play fullback in the wishbone and they would have the right personnel to play the offense. Except at one position, they both thought.
“Gary can’t play quarterback in the bone,” Stub injected. “He’s not quick enough to get to the corners.”
“I realize that,” Cole agreed. “We’re going to start working on it for district play.”
“What about the first three games?” Ichabod asked.
“We’ll go with the split back until then,” Cole directed. “On short-yardage plays we’ll put Derwin or Happy in. Maybe both.”
They continued watching film, but did not get too involved with it. They knew Conser’s personnel well, almost like it was their own.
“I wish you’d quit scheduling teams like this,” Stub blurted out. “We’re playing the three biggest schools around here and it always makes us start out with a bad record.”
Chapter 11
After his performance in the Bates scrimmage, D.J. got more snaps with the first team, forming a tandem with Skip that had the potential to be outstanding.
Derwin saw less action as the other running backs, not that it bothered him. He liked running the ball but preferred defense. He was also smart enough to realize D.J. was a better back. And whatever was best for his team was good with him.
The hitting in practice was intense, pleasing the coaches. Ichabod was pretty much set on his starting eleven. He still considered moving Lucky and D.J. into the secondary but knew Cole was not crazy about that idea.
Lucky tried to avoid Gabby all week. But everywhere he went or turned, she was there, usually with D.J. He was nice to her, but really just wanted to stay away.
She spent a lot of time with D.J. and it looked like they were now a couple. Each time Lucky saw them, it made him feel like he had swallowed his Adam’s apple.
In the past, D.J., Happy and Lucky got together and spent at least one night playing Monopoly or video games. Andy was invited to join in and played his first game, getting trounced badly, along with D.J. and Lucky.
Happy was the winner in Monopoly, as usual. He liked playing Monopoly almost as much as lifting weights, actually studying strategy and reading everything possible about the game. Nobody had a chance that night. Happy’s strategy was sound and the game was clinched before it was halfway over.
They played at D.J.’s house because he had a game room and his parents were away, so they could laugh and make noise without bothering anybody. The only thing that interrupted the game was two phone calls that caused D.J. to retreat into the other room. Nobody asked or probably even cared who was calling, but Lucky had a good idea who called.
---------------------
Just like the boys, Petros’ coaches spent at least one night together every week, talking about the game, the team and whatever else came up. They had done it for years and since none of them were married or had any prospects lined up, it was something they would probably continue.
They met in their office, took the phone off the hook and closed the curtain. They brought a few snacks and while this could technically be considered work, nobody really looked at it that way as it was too much fun to be considered part of their job.
The three men sat around a table, looking to see what goodies the other coaches brought. Stub and Cole stared at something Ichabod had prepared. It looked like nothing they had ever seen. Ichabod was a terrible cook and seemed to have topped himself with this dish. Stub always said he would be skinny too if his cooking was as bad as Ichabod’s.
Even Ichabod usually wound up skipping his contribution, realizing something had gone terribly wrong. Not that it kept him from trying. Ichabod studied cookbooks and tried to follow the directions, but usually wound up with a disaster.
“Ichabod, what the heck is this?” Stub finally asked.
It was green with what appeared to be tomatoes and lettuce on top.
“It’s a casserole,” Ichabod proudly announced.
“You trying to poison us so you can take over?”
“Of course not.”
“It looks like something my cat throws up,” Stub added, an image that failed to make the food look better.
“You don’t have to eat it,” Ichabod commented, insulted again by Stub’s critique.
“That’s good. I don’t think I could.”
Cole mixed in a little bit of everything on his paper plate, even some of Ichabod’s casserole. He did not want to touch that slop either, but his first bite was of the casserole, since Ichabod was staring at him.
It was one of the most disgusting things Cole ever put in his mouth. His taste buds protested immediately. He hoped his face was not showing how terrible it tasted.
“How is it?” Ichabod asked, leaning forward in his chair and staring at Cole with a hopeful look on his face.
“It’s uh, not all that bad,” Cole answered.
Stub was not as kind, of course. He took a bite and immediately spit it in the trashcan. He wiped away any remaining residue from his lips, shaking his head while glaring at Ichabod.
“Ichabod, you’ve really topped yourself this time,” he commented.
“What do you mean?” Ichabod asked.
“This has got to be the most disgusting thing you’ve ever made.”
Ichabod’s shoulders slumped and his face registered the pain. He enjoyed cooking and always wanted to be a chef. He tried so hard to make meals his friends would enjoy. But it always seemed something went wrong and the meal was a disaster.
It could not be that bad, Ichabod tried convincing himself. He knew Cole had not liked it either, just did not say anything to keep from hurting his feelings. Ichabod summoned his courage and took a bite. It was all he could do to swallow and required even more effort to keep it from coming back up. Sadly, it was that bad.
“You’re right,” he agreed. “It is bad.”
Stub and Cole laughed over Ichabod’s reaction as they added other foods to their plate.
They finished building their plates and got something to drink. Then, they attacked the food.
“You guys ready?” Cole asked, as he grabbed the remote and turned on the television.
Stub and Ichabod looked longingly at the remote in Cole’s hand, wishing they had it. It was the classic case of remote envy, a disease running rampant whenever adult males gathered together and somebody else had control of the remote.
Nobody else had the touch or timing, of course, to know when to switch from one channel to the next when it got boring or a commercial came on.
Cole put on a tape of Conser, the Panthers’ opponent in the first game the following week. They were familiar with Conser since the two schools had played each other to open the season for the last ten years. It was typical of Cole’s early schedule. Conser was tough, a team as good as any team the Panthers would play aside from Hodgen.
Petros only won two out of the ten games. The games were usually fairly close before Conser pulled it out in the last half.
Cole knew this would be a typical year for the Cowboys, only this team had the potential to be better. Conser went to the state semifinals in Class 3A the previous year. The only preseason ranking Cole had seen listed Conser as third in Class 3A.
Petros was not ranked in Class 2A, an omission that did not surprise Cole, but did bother him.
Since most of Conser’s players were back from the previous year, they were watching film of last year’s 27-6 win over the Panthers.
It had been a sign of things to come for the Panthers, a game that was not even as close as the final score indicated. That game had started Petros on a tailspin the Panthers never recovered from.
Cole knew the Cowboys would be better this year. But he knew his team should be better, also.
While watching the film, Cole remembered how Conser dominated the line on both sides, opening huge holes on offense and stuffing the Panthers with its defense. Petros did not have the size or speed to compete last year.
Cole hoped it was different this time.
“You guys think D.J.’s ready to start at running back?” Cole asked.
“Yes,” Ichabod answered.
“Without a doubt,” Stub stated. “You put him and Skip back there and that’s the best set of running backs we’ve had in a long time.”
“I’m not sure if we’ll start him but he’ll play a lot so don’t wear him out on defense,” Cole directed, looking at Ichabod.
“Yeah, that will make us better,” Stub commented. “Now just as soon as we get Lucky in at quarterback…”
“Gary’s our quarterback,” Cole interrupted. “He won’t lose any games for us.”
“But he won’t win any either,” Ichabod pointed out.
“That may be true,” Cole admitted. “But Gary’s worked harder than anybody else and deserves to start. If he can’t do the job, then we’ll make a change.”
“I’d just be worried that we’ll be a little light in the backfield,” Stub mentioned. “Both those guys we’ll have at running back are pretty small and we might have a tough time on short yardage plays.”
“I was thinking about that earlier,” Cole responded. “We might just load up back there.”
Ichabod and Stub smiled. They knew what Cole meant by “load up”. He wanted to put another running back in the backfield between the two split backs and run some plays out of the old T-formation. They also knew a part of him would love to run that offense all the time.
“We’re gonna go with the ‘T’ on short yardage?” Stub asked.
“Either that or the bone,” Cole answered, referring to the wishbone offense that was so popular back in the 70’s. It was an offense Cole always loved but never used because his teams never had the right personnel.
Cole knew Derwin or Happy could play fullback in the wishbone and they would have the right personnel to play the offense. Except at one position, they both thought.
“Gary can’t play quarterback in the bone,” Stub injected. “He’s not quick enough to get to the corners.”
“I realize that,” Cole agreed. “We’re going to start working on it for district play.”
“What about the first three games?” Ichabod asked.
“We’ll go with the split back until then,” Cole directed. “On short-yardage plays we’ll put Derwin or Happy in. Maybe both.”
They continued watching film, but did not get too involved with it. They knew Conser’s personnel well, almost like it was their own.
“I wish you’d quit scheduling teams like this,” Stub blurted out. “We’re playing the three biggest schools around here and it always makes us start out with a bad record.”
posted by Craig Hall at 4:32 AM
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