Chapter 4

The first day of practice was always a big deal in Petros. Former players, parents and residents came to watch practice, ready to tell all their buddies about the team’s strengths and weaknesses after one practice. The crowds were larger than some schools draw for games.

Cole appreciated the support and didn’t care about the crowd as long as they stayed out of the way. There had been a few spectators get plowed over during practice over the years so the coaches made sure they stayed in the infield now. Many of them visited with Stub for a few minutes to try and get some inside information.

He used to make up some really strange stuff until Cole asked him to quit, tired of hearing about all-state running backs moving to Petros or that ESPN was in town to film a segment on the program.

Cole noticed several people gather around Scoop, either for the shade or the conversation. Most of them were former Panthers and were like heroes to Scoop.

He decided it was time to get going.

“Let’s get everybody together,” Cole suggested, walking toward the middle of the field. He felt good about the turnout and had no feelings of dread about going through another year.

Stub and Ichabod gathered everybody around their head coach for his usual “This is what we expect out of you” speech, the same one Cole used every year, with only minor changes.

He waited until everybody was on a knee with helmets removed. One of the first things players learned was you did not sit down during practice or in a game. It was okay to take a knee, but if your rear hit the ground, your legs would be running quickly. Sitting was bad enough, but if a player used his helmet as a seat he would quickly realize that was something a Petros Panther did not do.

“First off, we want to welcome everybody,” Cole stated, looking around at his players while slowly pacing. “It’s a special honor to play football for Petros High School. Not everybody can do it and we’ll find out over the next few weeks if you have what it takes. Most of those guys under the oak tree there had what it took and played football for Petros.”

He pointed at the tree and everybody turned around to look.

“Those boys became better football players on this practice field and better people by playing football,” Cole continued. “You learn valuable lessons playing sports that can’t be learned anywhere else. You learn what it takes to succeed and to never quit. Hopefully, you’ll also learn to count on your teammates and always give a little extra when the going gets tough. Those are good lessons for sports and for life.”

He let the words settle for a moment, wondering if they had any impact on a group callused by video games and violent movies. Cole remembered how he felt the first time a coach said something like that to him. The speech gave him the shivers and inspired him to do things nothing else ever had.

“Most of you are coming back and know what to expect,” he added. “For you new guys, we don’t do things like everybody else. If you want to step out on the field for us, there are several things you must know and do. First off, you’ve gotta keep your grades up or you’ll spend practice time in study hall and nobody plays on this team unless you practice. As a member of this team, you’ll represent this team in everything you do. That means you’ll behave. You won’t act up in class, drive around town drinking beer or cause any problems. That’s not negotiable. I expect you to be in shape, know your assignments and give everything you have on every play. Finally, you’ll play with class. Our players don’t talk trash or do things to embarrass other players or schools. Those players over there didn’t do it and were successful so there isn’t any reason for you to do it.

“What you’re fixing to do isn’t easy. That’s why every boy in school isn’t out here. They’d rather be in bed, sleeping under the air conditioning. You have to sacrifice many things to be out here. But I believe you’ll find it worthwhile after you put on the black and white uniforms and take the field for the first time and hear the crowd roar.”

Cole had to stop for a second and catch his breath.

“As you probably know, we play to win here,” Cole stated. “I’ve always thought that if you play the game, you play to win. That’s not just football, but every part of your life. That’ll carry over to your job, your family and your relationship with God. But at the same time, we’ll do it the right way. We don’t cheat or take shortcuts. We’ll win cause we work harder. We’ll be in better shape, better prepared and never quit.

“The boys who wore these uniforms before you built a special tradition. Over the last fifteen years, we’ve been to two state finals, won twelve district championships and averaged ten wins a season. That’s not bragging on me. That’s to point out you have some big shoes to fill.”

Cole wished for a drink of water. He was getting a little dry mouthed and figured his mouth was foaming.

“The last couple of years haven’t been our best years, you guys know that,” he added. “People are wondering if we can get back on top, questioning whether you boys have what it takes to get us there. We’ll play three tough non-district games and our district is gonna be a booger this year. But I don’t care. I look around and see you guys and know you’ve got what it takes to get us where we want to be.

“Okay, we’ll get started in just a minute but I need to go over a few other rules. If you’re gonna be on this team, you won’t drink, smoke or do drugs. You do that junk, you won’t be a part of this team. You cannot use tobacco products on the field or at school, and shouldn’t even use them at all. You’ll treat your teammates with respect, the same way you want to be treated. When one of the coaches tells you to do something, you do it. Don’t wait to be told again or question why, just get after it. I don’t feel the need to swear or cuss and don’t expect to hear it from a bunch of teenage boys. Always be on time and give your best effort, out here on the football field and in the classroom.”

Cole decided he had talked enough and turned it over to his assistants. They had everybody jog around the field once and get lined up to do some more stretching and get loosened up.

It would be a few days before the players started hitting each other, which was fine with Cole. He wanted to use this time to teach his players fundamentals and conditioning. He noticed there wasn’t the usual gaggle of fat linemen bringing up the rear during the jog. The group pretty much jogged as one, no gap between the big guys and the little guys.

There were a few players who needed to lose a little gut. But most of them were in good shape, knowing if they were out of shape, they would regret it.

Ichabod got everybody to line up and stretch. The seniors were up front, followed by the juniors with the sophomores at the back. He told the front line what to do and they relayed the message to the others. Cole and Stub walked among the other players, watching to make sure everybody did it right.

It took almost fifteen minutes to get through with stretching, the coaches making sure all the muscles were properly loosened up. This was what made players ache more than anything when they got out of bed the following morning, but it was the most important thing to do to avoid injuries.

The coaches broke the team into three groups to do agilities. This lasted almost thirty minutes as the players did the ropes, ran around the cones and went through other drills to improve speed, coordination and conditioning. The players rotated frequently from different stations to the other coaches.

The drills were set up so there wasn’t any long time between drills. Everybody had already worked up a sweat in the hot and humid August morning, especially Stub, who looked like he had been in a shower with his clothes on.

Cole got the players together that he wanted on the special teams. He put together a list this morning, planning to get as many players as he could on the different special teams. But at the same time, Cole made sure his best players were on the field. That was how important he felt about the special teams.

So many other teams failed to put much emphasis on the special teams, preferring to spend most of the practice time on offense and defense. Other teams worked on it at the end of practice, if there was enough time, and by then the players were tired and lost their focus.

Petros practiced each part of special teams. The Panthers were blessed with a senior, Jeremy Toll, a player who handled all the kicking duties for two years and was as good as anybody in this part of the state.

Lucky would back up Jeremy, sporting a stronger leg but lacking the accuracy. They worked together all summer. Jeremy’s accuracy was excellent up to around 35 yards on field goals while Lucky could hit up to 45 yards, if his aim was true.

What made Jeremy a little unique was his size. He stood barely 5-foot-5 and weighed only 120 pounds, sopping wet, nothing like his brother who played for the Panthers a couple of years ago. Because of his stature, he really couldn’t help on anything but kicking. That did not keep him from working as hard as any of his teammates, though.

He was also an excellent soccer player and would probably be the valedictorian for his senior class.

After special teams, the Panthers went through defensive drills, breaking into groups again. They did individual drills first, followed by team drills. Ichabod did not act like he had a veteran defense, instead going through the fundamentals like this was the first time any of the players stepped foot on the field.

During the team set, the first eleven players consisted of the eight returning starters, seven seniors and one junior, Skip Steele, also the Panthers’ best running back. The other three players were other seniors.

The coaches did not have a second team selected yet, working all of the players through the same drills, looking for players to step up.

Lucky, D.J. and Happy worked on the same unit. Lucky and D.J. were in the secondary while Happy played inside linebacker.

Finally, after a water break, the team switched to offense. Cole had most of the offense set, trying to platoon as many players as possible. At quarterback, Gary was one of the few seniors on the starting offense.

Cole wanted as many different players to play, even if it meant using some younger players on offense. Most of the seniors started on defense, only switching to offense during critical times.

Stub had his work cut out for him on the offensive line, a group blessed with talent and better size than usual, but also fairly inexperienced.

In the backfield, Gary was at quarterback. At running back, Cole planned to start with Derwin Lane at one running back along with Skip. Derwin was the Panthers’ best defensive player so Cole hoped somebody stepped up so Derwin could concentrate on defense.

Cole thought Skip should be one of the best running backs he had coached in years. Skip was only 5-foot-10 and weighed 175. His legs were not overly large but he had already set records in the weight room for players his size. Skip was one of the fastest players on the team with the speed to go all the way on any play.

Derwin was a decent running back, but not quick enough to worry many defenses. He had good hands and was an excellent blocker. Derwin practically lived in the weight room all summer. Cole knew Derwin hoped to play running back and felt like the senior deserved the chance, as long as it did not interfere with defense.

The Panthers had another good senior running back, Kenneth Williams, but he would miss the first part of the season with an injury.

Like the defensive drills, Cole went through the same routine with the offense, starting slow and going through the fundamentals. After finishing up with the session, the Panthers ran same gassers before ending practice. They would return later to lift weights and go through a second practice session.

Scoop caught up with Cole as they made the short walk back to the gym.

“Figure we might win a couple this year?” Cole asked, getting the question out before Scoop got started.

“Oh, yeah!” Scoop said. “I think this should be the best team we’ve had in three years.”

Cole felt that way also, but wouldn’t say it. It was way too early and too many things could happen between now and the end of the year. He noticed Scoop had the notebook out and was ready to go.

“Let’s wait until we get in the office,” Cole suggested, not wanting to stay out in the heat longer than necessary. It would be a long day and he wanted to conserve as much energy as possible.

Scoop nodded and smiled, obviously pleased with the suggestion. Cole did not always like it when Scoop came into the office because he could talk for hours. But it was too hot for Scoop, who was having trouble breathing.

They entered the gym, walked down the stairs and through the dressing room. Most of the players were still in the locker room, trying to put fluids back in their body. The cooler air blasted Cole and Scoop as they made it into the office, like a slap in the face. The air conditioner worked better when nobody was coming in and out of the office so there was a little cool air inside. Cole got a couple of bottled waters and sat down at his desk, motioning for Scoop to sit opposite him.

Ichabod and Stub came into the office, got some water and sat at their desks.

Scoop downed most of his water in one gulp and wiped the sweat away from his forehead with a hankie he had in his front pocket. He laid the notebook on the desk, pulled out his pen and slid the chair closer.

“You feeling okay?” Cole asked.

“I’ve got a little headache but I’ll be fine,” Scoop snapped, obviously wanting to change the subject. He appreciated everybody’s concern but there were more important things to worry about than his health, like football.

He really wanted another bottle of water but was afraid to ask, fearing Stub’s response. Scoop knew Stub didn’t mean anything by the kidding, unlike others. But Scoop had been through that his whole life and did everything possible to avoid giving anybody a chance to pick on him.

“Boy, we looked good today!” Scoop exclaimed. Cole thought this was more of a statement than a question, something Scoop never realized. Cole thought a writer should ask questions if he expected a response, not make statements.

“Yeah, we did,” Cole stated, playing along for a minute. Scoop had his pen out and was ready to get after it. Cole’s comment was not what Scoop hoped to hear. The pen stood poised, ready to fill the page with all the coach’s observations on the Panthers’ chances this year.

“Uh, how did you feel about the team this morning?”

“I felt like everything went well,” Cole answered. He sipped from his bottle. Cole did not like dealing with the media any more than necessary, always feeling like what he meant to say did not come out like he intended. He used to hate talking to the writers and avoided it like poison ivy. But Cole eventually accepted it as part of his job. He could have a little fun with Scoop, though.

As could his assistants, especially Stub.

“I really feel good about this team, Coach!” Scoop exclaimed.

“I’m sure the boys will be relieved to know that,” Stub pointed out.

“We have the opportunity to have a good team,” Cole mentioned, not paying any attention to his sweaty, hairy assistant.

Scoop was a little rattled, having to worry about saying something wrong and giving Stub the opportunity to nail him. Scoop liked it better when he was alone with Cole and Stub was somewhere else. At least Ichabod was not bad. He sometimes looked at you like you were an idiot, but never said anything that made Scoop feel that way.

“Do you feel Lucky might beat Gary out at quarterback?” Scoop asked. It was a good question, one everybody wondered about, but so surprising it made Stub spit up his water.

“Gary’s our quarterback,” Cole responded, not bothering to really answer the question.

Scoop tossed his empty bottle at the trash can. He was only a few feet away but the bottle rimmed out.

“How far can we go this year, Coach?” he asked.

“I think our bus can take us practically anywhere,” Stub speculated.

Cole shot Stub a dirty look, one that did not register. He wanted to say as far as the defense could carry the team, but knew that wasn’t the best thing to say.

“Our goals are the same as they always are,” Cole answered. “Our first goal is to win our next game. Then we want to get better every week. After that, we’d like to win our district and go undefeated. Finally, we want to get in the playoffs, advance to the state finals and bring home the gold ball.”

“That’s not asking too much,” Stub commented.

“Not really,” Scoop agreed, not realizing what Stub meant. “I really feel like our guys are much more talented this year.”

“Than what?” Stub asked.

“Than last year.”

“Why do you say that?”

Scoop was getting a little frustrated. Stub always liked to mess up his interviews and was doing it again. He saw Ichabod trying to hide his enjoyment while Cole was getting irritated. Before Scoop answered, his cell phone rang.

He pulled the phone out of his pocket and looked at it like it was an open sore, finally pushing the send button. Everybody knew who was calling and Scoop expected to hear about it as soon as the call ended. He stood up and walked to the doorway, mumbling so nobody could hear.

“I love you, too, Mother,” he said, hitting the button to end the conversation.

Cole and Ichabod acted like they did not hear anything. Stub was poised like a snake fixing to strike. Scoop was flustered and tried getting his things together and to leave before Stub attacked. He really had not gotten anything good for his story so the quotes would be fabricated, just like usual.

He was quite upset. He had asked Mother not to call him while working. But she never remembered. At least the call was telling him breakfast was ready and waffles were waiting, Scoop’s favorite meal.

“How’s Mommy doing?” asked Stub.

“Okay,” Scoop answered, before realizing the request was not really sincere. He waved and walked away, trying to smile.

“You shouldn’t be so hard on him,” Cole advised.

“I know,” Stub agreed.

“This morning was much better than last year,” Ichabod injected, trying to change the subject. He did not really like the way Stub treated Scoop either, although it was humorous at times.

“I don’t know if I could handle another year like last year,” Stub added.

“I’m ready to start winning again,” Cole stated.

“Then we shouldn’t keep playing all those big schools in our non-district games,” Stub advised. He hated starting off most years by losing the first three games, or winning only one of the three. The Panthers usually bounced back and won the rest of the district games, but that was getting harder with the improvements in the district over the last few years, and had not been the case for the last two years.

“It makes us a better team,” Ichabod argued.

“You don’t get better by playing the dogs,” Cole added. “All that’s good about games like that is you usually get to play all your guys.”

“I wish we could throw on the pads and start hitting,” Stub said. “That’s the best way for our line to improve.”

“Our offensive line needs to get better quick,” Ichabod agreed. “They’re going to be awful young.”

“Yeah, but we got some boys who’ll pop you in the mouth,” Stub countered. “They’re a little green but they aren’t scared of nothing.”

“I wonder if that new guy can help?” Ichabod asked.

“He’s the tallest guy we’ve had around here in a while,” Stub commented. “We must not put something in the water. All the other towns grow tall boys but the only time we get any boys with height is when they move here and that doesn’t happen often.”

“Gary’s going to have to pick it up at quarterback,” Ichabod pointed out, a thought that had been bothering Cole all morning. “He seems half a step behind.”

“His passes sure are ugly,” Stub pointed out. “At least we got Lucky there just in case, right Cole?”

Cole was trying to ignore Stub. He was putting together some depth charts and really did not want to be drawn into this conversation, especially since he wasn’t sure how to answer.

“Right, Cole?” Stub repeated.

“Gary will get better,” Cole said.

“Skip sure looks good,” Ichabod stated, changing subjects since he knew Cole did not want to talk about the quarterbacks.

“It’s gonna be nice having somebody who can score from anywhere on the field,” Cole added, his head still bent over the papers in front of him.

“There sure is a big difference between him and Derwin.”

“Yeah, as a running back, Derwin makes a heckuva linebacker,” stated Stub, now leaning back in his chair and putting his feet up on the desk. His shoes and socks had disappeared off his little feet, giving the other coaches a sight and smell they could have done without.

“Probably going to have to give D.J. a shot in the backfield,” Cole suggested, scribbling down a name on his chart.

“That would be a pretty good set of running backs,” Stub agreed, wiggling his hairy toes. “That would give us a good backfield, especially after Lucky gets in at quarterback.”

“Stub, your feet are disgusting,” Ichabod mentioned. “Put them somewhere we can’t see them or smell them. You need to spray them with air freshener or something.”

The comment seemed to hurt Stub’s feelings. He looked at his feet, the toes still wiggling at a mile a minute. He started to protest, but had noticed a little aroma filling the office. Stub got a yardstick and started rubbing between his toes, trying to get at the athlete’s foot that drove him crazy. He noticed everybody had gotten quiet and looked around, seeing this was more than the other two occupants of the room could handle.

“You’re the most disgusting person I’ve ever been around,” Ichabod said.

“Okay, I’ll quit,” Stub countered, taking his feet down from the desk. “Satisfied?”

“Much better,” Ichabod added, wishing he had one of those little smelling candles to light.

Cole and the other coaches broke out film and started watching it, continuing until noon. Stub slept for most of the film, waking when it was time to eat. They left to get nourishment and go home for a while, planning to return before the players showed up to lift weights.

It was going to be a long day, an appropriate start to what would be a long season.

Chapter 5