Chapter 16

It was a normal week of practice, working on fundamentals and focusing on the basics of blocking and tackling.

Cole watched film of the Redbirds and reviewed the scouting report from Lance Dooley, a former coach who now taught at Petros and usually scouted the upcoming opponent. Cole also talked to the coaches from Cowlington, the 3A school Reichert had just dominated. Cowlington usually had a good team, but had no chance against the Redbirds.

Reichert was huge, featuring a line averaging over 220 pounds on both sides. The backs were fast and the quarterback was one of the best Petros would face.

The Redbirds used a pro-style offense, mixing the run and pass better than any team Cole had seen in years. Reichert’s offense was so balanced a defense could not concentrate on one area, knowing the Redbirds were able to hurt defenses by running or passing.

Cole looked for weaknesses on the Redbirds and found little. He wasn’t real impressed with Reichert’s special teams and while the Redbirds’ defensive line was huge, they seemed a little slow on film.

The weather was hot all week and even worse Friday when the Panthers boarded the buses for the trip to Reichert.

When they finally arrived in Reichert, a much larger town with a new stadium and high school, everybody was glad to get off the buses and stretch their legs. On road games, Cole always liked to arrive early enough so they had plenty of time to walk around the field, get dressed and loosen up.

There was a group of Reichert players milling around when the Petros players got off the bus.

The mouthing started then, the Reichert players getting after the Panthers. Petros’ players laughed about it but were more than a little miffed. The mouthing was not the usual trash talk consisting of how they were going to win, but instead was personal, talking about the players, their parents and families.

It might intimidate other teams and players, but it was a mistake to do this against the Panthers. It just made them more determined. They weren’t scared of these guys.

Derwin was the only Petros player who talked back, offering to take on the whole Reichert team by himself if necessary. Stub had to get him away, knowing if Derwin went after them, it would take the national guard to separate them.

After the players dressed, Cole and the other coaches led the players out on the field to go through the pre-game drills, now greeted by insults from the fans, who were even worse than the players

Reichert had a new set of coaches this year, a group Cole hadn’t met. He wondered why the coaches let this go on. If his players or fans acted this way, he would end it quick.

The Redbirds’ coaches didn’t seem the least bit concerned.

Cole’s patience wore thin quickly, the final straw coming when he saw Reichert’s coaches laughing as the players were mouthing and cussing the Panthers.

He called all the players together, his face as red as a tomato.

Stub knew Cole was serious now. He saw the vein on Cole’s forehead stick out and whenever that happened, it meant the head guy was not a happy camper.

“Boys, I’ve had enough of this crap,” Cole stated. “I don’t know about you, but I want to pound them. Don’t talk all that crud with them. If you do, you’re dropping to their level. It doesn’t do any good. The best way to respond is to hit them so hard they can’t open their mouths and then beat them on the scoreboard, where it matters.”

Cole wished he could suit up. He might be past his prime but knew his body could still deliver a few hits. He would feel it the next day, but it would be worth it. Back when he played, if anybody ever insulted him or his team like this, Cole would tear them apart.

And enjoy it.

He was a little surprised in the behavior. Petros and Reichert had played many times over the years and it was a good rivalry, certainly never like this.

The Panthers were dressed in their road uniforms, wearing white jerseys with black numbers, black pants and white helmets. Reichert wore its usual home outfit of white helmets and pants, red shirts and white numbers.

Cole watched the captains meet out at the middle of the field. The Panthers won the coin toss and elected to receive. This was definitely out of order. Most teams deferred to the second half but Cole wanted to try and get on top quick.

His players were a little surprised about their coach wanting to get after Reichert like this. Cole didn’t need to give out any stirring pre-game speech as the Panthers were ready. It was the kind of emotion usually felt only in district games or against Hodgen.

Before the kickoff, Cole gathered his team around him.

“Dominate these guys,” he yelled. “On offense, keep moving the chains and keep the ball away from them. Don’t get caught up in the cheap stuff. The more they talk, the harder we hit them. Let’s play like Petros Panthers out there.”

The school song was blaring out from the band. Everybody on Petros’ side stood and clapped along with the song.

D.J. and Skip went back to return the kick. The referee blew his whistle and the kicker got the game started with a long kick, taking advantage of the strong wind to send the ball into the end zone for a touchback.

The Panthers took the field and huddled quickly. They broke the huddle and hurried to the line. Gary handed off to Skip on a quick dive, picking up five yards. D.J. got the call on second down, getting an additional four yards on the same play to the other side.

Facing third and one, Cole sent in the same play with D.J. getting the call again. Gary noticed a gap in front of him, took the snap and blasted straight ahead, easily picking up enough for the first down.

Skip followed with a power play over the right side, cutting back behind a great block by Freddie Farmer, who pulled from his guard spot and wiped out the defensive end. The run was good for four yards.

The Redbirds weren’t expecting this. They had only allowed four first downs the previous week and Petros was moving at will.

Petros continued to drive, reaching the Reichert 22 before a holding penalty and incomplete pass killed the drive. Facing the hard wind, Cole elected not to try a field goal on fourth down and threw a pass instead. Gary had Murray open over the middle but his pass was knocked down, ending the drive.

Cole wanted to score and get the lead, but was pleased with the offense’s performance.

Reichert’s offense broke the huddle and spread players all over the field. The Redbirds only had one running back along with the quarterback in the backfield. Five receivers were spread out.

Cole was never a big fan of the so-called “West Coast” offense, believing the offense could be explosive at times, but had many problems. It wasn’t a good offense to run out of and seemed to struggle near the end zone. The Panthers ran a version of this offense, mainly in the two-minute situations.

Reichert defied the odds by having a good running attack, however, with a talented running back. The quarterback had a great arm for a high-school quarterback and was being recruited by several colleges. He stood almost six-four, weighed just over 200 pounds and even though he wasn’t real mobile, was smart and seldom got hit because of his excellent offensive line.

Because of the type of offense Reichert used, the Panthers planned to go with a nickel or dime defense most of the time, using five or six defensive backs and trying different looks to confuse the quarterback.

Lucky was told just before kickoff he would get his first start on defense and was concentrating on his assignment, trying not to think about how cool this was. He watched as the quarterback took a three-step drop and looked for one of the receivers on his right running a slant. The quarterback never got the chance to get rid of the pass, though, as Sam Roberts blew by the blocker and hit the quarterback before he got his feet planted.

On the next play, Lucky read the quarterback’s eyes, saw the pass coming toward his receiver and easily knocked the ball down before it reached its target.

The defense huddled up.

“I wish I could throw a spiral like that,” Gary said.

“So do we,” said Harry.

The players laughed, waiting for Derwin to step back into the huddle and relay the call.

“That was cold,” replied Skip, shaking his head.

Derwin reappeared in the huddle and didn’t like hearing his teammates laughing.

“You guys shut up and play ball,” he hollered, then relayed the call.

Ichabod had seen something and tried to get the players’ attention. As they broke the huddle, Derwin saw the coaches waving their arms.

“What’s he want?” Derwin asked.

“He’s telling us to watch out for the draw,” D.J. advised

“I got that covered,” Derwin replied. “Don’t relax now. Let’s get this three-and-out.”

Ichabod’s prediction was true. Derwin saw the draw from the start, knifed in between two blockers and smashed the running back, still in the backfield.

The hit was so hard it could be heard in the Eucker seats. It was particularly satisfying to Derwin because the running back had a huge game last year and was one of the guys mouthing the Panthers.

“Why aren’t you talking now?” Derwin asked as he stood over the running back, glaring down at him.

The running back didn’t even consider answering. One blow like this was enough to close his mouth for a while.

Cole expected to have a big advantage in the special teams. The Reichert punter showed that wasn’t necessarily true by getting off a long punt that sailed over Skip’s head and bounced out-of-bounds at Petros’ 36.

While it was an excellent punt, helped a good deal by the strong wind, the Panthers still had decent field position.

Cole sent in a triple option on first down. The play worked just as planned as Gary reached the corner and appeared to have running room, but was quickly tackled from behind.

“For somebody who’s fairly quick, he sure looks slow at times,” Stub commented, the same thing Cole was thinking.

Cole only nodded, more concerned with getting in the next play than engaging in a little chit chat with his assistant. Gary picked up three yards on the play, but should’ve gotten a lot more.

On the next play, a missed block allowed Gary to get trapped in the backfield for a loss, leaving the Panthers facing third-and-long.

Cole called for a draw to Skip, hoping to fool Reichert’s defense and avoid a possible bad play.

Even Cole was surprised when Skip took the handoff, did a 360 spin past a defensive tackle, almost lost his balance in the process, put his right hand down to keep from falling, then broke a tackle and burst into the open.

Skip flew past two other defenders and was breaking free when a whistle sounded, stopping the play.

Everybody on Petros’ side had a pretty good idea what happened.

“I don’t believe this,” Cole muttered. He removed his black hat and rubbed his sweaty forehead. He heard a commotion and saw Stub was at least 10 yards on the field, hollering at the official.

“He wasn’t close to being down” Stub hollered. “You weren’t going to call it until they talked you into it.”

Stub was referring to Reichert’s coaches. Stub was as mad as he ever got. This was an officiating crew Petros’ coaches didn’t care for, always feeling close calls went the other way for some reason, usually at important times.

The official’s face was now almost as red as Reichert’s jerseys.

Cole walked out on the field to control Stub, not wanting to get a penalty.

The referee came over from the middle of the field, heading straight for Stub, who noticed and was now directing his comments to the official in the white hat.

“Coach, you need to worry more about coaching your boys and let us call the game,” the referee shouted, moving so he was right in front of Stub, only a few inches away.

“Well, you need to do a better job,” Stub countered, not backing down. “He blew that call and you know it.”

Now the referee’s face was getting red. He moved even closer to Stub.

“Yeah, he might’ve made a mistake. But you haven’t been doing that good of a coaching job the last two years either.”

That was all Cole had to hear. He had controlled his temper up to that point, but lost it after hearing that comment.

Stub looked like he wanted to take the official’s head off, and started pointing and hollering back. Cole grabbed his assistant and pulled him back.

“Let me handle this,” Cole ordered. “You go on over to the sideline.”

When the official saw Cole turn to him, he started to back away toward the field.

Cole waved for the official to come talk to him, but the official turned around and jogged back toward the center of the field. Cole was stunned, not believing the official wouldn’t talk with him. He was able to make rude comments to assistant coaches but wouldn’t have anything to do with Cole.

Petros’ fans weren’t pleased either and were hollering comments that didn’t display the best sportsmanship. Cole looked around for the line judge and saw him standing just a few feet away, trying not to look back.

Cole headed toward him, still highly agitated.

But before Cole said anything, the official started.

“Coach, I’m sorry,” he said. “That wasn’t handled correctly.”

“You tell him to come talk to me or he’ll never call another one of my games,” Cole directed.

The line judge jogged out to talk to the referee to relay the message. A short conversation followed before the line judge came back to Cole.

“He said there wasn’t anything to talk about,” the official advised. “And that you better get off the field or he’ll flag you.”

“Is he always this terrible or is it just the games he works for us?” Cole asked, not expecting or getting an answer.

He walked back to the sideline, the steam still rising. In all his years of coaching, Cole had only been flagged twice, both as a young coach. He had picked up a few technicals in basketball, but usually just to get his boys motivated. This was beyond belief, though.

The drive stalled after the blown call and Petros was forced to punt. The ball sailed out of bounds at Reichert’s 17, again leaving the Redbirds with bad field position.

Petros’ defense was dominant again, forcing another three-and-out.

This was the story for the remainder of the first half. Petros’ defense held Reichert under control while the Panthers moved the ball up and down the field but couldn’t score.

Cole was proud of the way his guys played, just wished they had scored.

They made their way to the locker room at halftime, the scoreboard showing a big zero for both teams. He didn’t want to dwell on the bad call, knowing if he did, the players would follow his lead.

He always liked to let his players have a few minutes to get drinks and recoup from the first half. The first thing he noticed was how determined his players were. They weren’t the least bit satisfied with the first half or the score.

There was some discussion about the call, along with how the Panthers should be ahead by at least two touchdowns. Cole huddled with Stub and Ichabod to talk about the first half and decide on what changes to make in the second half.

Stub was still complaining but Cole cut him off.

“Doesn’t do any good to gripe about it,” Cole advised. “We can’t do anything about it. We need to worry about the second half and not what happened in the first half.”

Stub started to say something, then stopped and nodded.

“How’d you like to be a player on Reichert’s team?” Cole asked. “They were expecting a blowout and they’ve got their hands full. You know their coaches have to be hacked.”

“I would be, and I am,” Stub muttered.

“We’ve been fortunate with the field position in the first half,” Cole pointed out. “That helped keep Reichert from opening up the offense.”

The other coaches listened to Cole, knowing whatever he predicted usually happened.

“They haven’t done much so far,” he added. “But their offense worries me. We’re gonna have to keep shuttling in guys to keep everybody fresh and pressure their quarterback.

“They’ve had some guys open but the quarterback hasn’t had time to find them.”

“We probably need to try some different stunts and blitzes,” Ichabod suggested, pushing the glasses back on his nose. “We only went with a couple of stunts in the first half and Reichert was picking them up toward the end of the half.”

“Their linemen have been confused and don’t know who to block,” Stub stated. “We’re a lot fresher than their guys.”

Cole nodded. Something had bothered him since the end of the half but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Until now.

“Don’t be surprised if they try and pound at us some,” Cole advised. “I sure would with a line that big. Those guys look huge compared to our boys.”

They discussed a rotation schedule, trying to make sure everybody would still be fresh in the fourth quarter.

The coaches checked on their players, making sure everybody was okay and all body appendages were still attached. There were a few bumps and bruises, but nothing serious.

Cole waited until he had everybody’s attention.

“That was a good first half,” he commented. “But if you were at your job working you wouldn’t have enough money to pay the bills.”

The players looked at each other, wondering what their coach was talking about. Cole saw the confusion, just like he wanted.

“The job’s only half done,” he added. “Don’t forget that. We’ve gotta finish the job or we won’t get what we want. If we were on a job, it would be money. Here, it’s to get a win. We’ve got to finish the job. That applies toward this game and to your life.”

He walked over to get a drink. Part of his white shirt had come untucked from the black pants and he tried to fix it while heading to the ice chest.

“We all made a bunch of goals before the season started,” Cole continued while removing a can of pop from an ice chest. “One of those goals was to win every game. Well, we didn’t win last week. But we have a great chance to grab one of those goals now. It’s just sitting there waiting for us to get it. Whoever wins this game will be the team that wants it the most. It’s that simple.”

Cole looked at the players for a few seconds, then turned and nodded at Ichabod, who would go over some changes on defense for the second half. When Ichabod finished, Stub took over and met with the lines on different blocking schemes on offense and stunts on defense.

The coaches then sent the players back out on the field. They warmed up for a few minutes, received final instructions from the coaches and took the field. The Panthers kicked off to start the second half. Jeremy’s kick got the benefit of the strong wind and sailed inside the five. The returner avoided a tackle at the fifteen, cut outside and reached the 33 before getting tripped up.

Cole noticed it as soon as the Redbirds broke the huddle. Reichert was junking the passing offense and bringing in the big boys.

The middle linebacker was now lined up at fullback and there were two tight ends and a wingback. It was similar to the kind of offense Cole liked to use, except Reichert was in an I-formation instead of a split back and used a wingback instead of a flanker.

Ichabod hollered instructions, but it was too late. Lucky had noticed the change almost as soon as his father and passed it on to Derwin. The defense was still adjusting when the Redbirds snapped the ball. The tailback got the call, running a blast right up the middle, hammering into the defense.

The Redbirds’ offense stopped missing assignments and began putting a helmet on the correct defender. The Panthers tried different stunts, other alignments and blitzes but it didn’t work.

Reichert just pounded away down the field. But as soon as Petros put eleven players in the box, the Redbirds used a play-action pass as the quarterback faked to the tailback and lobbed a pass to a wide-open tight end.

He rumbled down to the five before Lucky and Skip brought him down. Two plays later, the tailback dove over the right side for the score to put Reichert ahead. The kick barely snuck inside the right goal post, almost hitting it.

The score was 7-0 and Reichert’s players, who had been quiet for most of the first half, suddenly found their cockiness again, talking trash and taunting the Panthers.

Petros was shaken while lining up for the return. Reichert used a deep onside kick, hoping to keep the ball away from Skip and D.J.

The ball was high and held up by the wind, dropping between the two lines of the return team. D.J. was running ahead at full speed, trying to reach the ball. He didn’t arrive on time and when the ball hit the ground, it took a funny bounce, hit his leg and bounced back toward the advancing Reichert players. None of the Panthers were close and the ball was easily recovered by one of the Redbirds.

Petros’ coaches tried keeping the players calm but knew they were shaken.

That confidence was brought down several more notches when the tailback took the handoff, burst through a huge hole and was never touched en route to a 43-yard touchdown run.

It looked like the defense had collapsed on the play and the coaches were furious. Reichert now led by two touchdowns and with Petros struggling on offense, it might as well be a hundred.

Petros’ offense continued to flounder, only picking up two first downs in the second half. The Redbirds added two more scores, one after another long drive at the end of the third quarter and then tacking on the final score on a punt return.

The final score was 26-0, leaving Cole as devastated as he had ever felt after a game. Memories of last year were running through his mind. It was such a sense of disappointment. He never had an ulcer before but was afraid one would develop if things didn’t change quickly.

As he entered the dressing room, that feeling grew worse. There was nothing left in the boys. They had the chance to grab a big prize tonight but got manhandled in the second half.

Cole tried to console himself that the Panthers played an excellent team and the score was to be expected, but not after Petros dominated the first half.

Reichert might have been slow out of the gate, but was certainly ready in the second half and dominated play so badly the Panthers were demoralized.

Cole knew things would get even worse the following week if something didn’t change. Petros played Hodgen, the Panthers’ biggest rival and easily the best team they would play.

Chapter 17