Chapter 55

Lynn “Lucky” Lester thought he knew pain before. There had been bruises, sprains, aches and other assorted ailments. But true pain was introduced to him that night, courtesy of the hit in the football game.

The pain was there all night, a constant throbbing. His body was trying to remind him of the injury and tell him not to do anything stupid, like playing a football game later in the week, until his ribs and back were healed.

Lucky could not eat, cough, move or use the bathroom without feeling like a knife was poking him. Sleep would come and go away, the pain refusing to subside. It was necessary for him to sleep on his back and Lucky was not a sleeping-on-the-back kind of guy.

He was a side guy, the same side as those injured ribs. So as he slumbered away, his body would start to turn over and the pain would wake him.

Lucky had taken the pain reliever, the extra-strength kind, and now wished he had taken the doctor up on her offer to get some pain medicine.

She had wrapped his mid-section tight, trying to keep him from moving. Lucky had used ice all the way home, hoping to numb the pain and keep away any swelling. But the only thing numb was his brain as he lay awake in his bed, wishing for sleep to overtake him again.

Lucky heard his father and brother arrive earlier, Lloyd making enough noise to wake the dead. His father had come in to check on him and they talked for a few minutes, although even the simple act of carrying on a conversation was difficult.

He knew his father was concerned for him, but Lucky knew it would just take a little time and everything would be back to normal. He just hoped it would be by this weekend.

The thought of his team making it to the state championship and not getting to play was like his worst nightmare. Even though he was still young, Lucky knew how many players would give up practically anything to play in a game like this, that they played their whole lives to reach a state championship game, but never got the chance.

Now, he and his teammates had made it and Lucky was determined to play, sore ribs or none. Lucky knew he was only a sophomore and there might be another chance waiting for him, but also that there was no guarantee. He remembered Dan Marino reached the Super Bowl as a rookie with the Dolphins, but never made a return trip.

There was no sure thing when it came to athletics. Lucky had seen too many surprising things in sports ever to take it for granted, even if he did think Petros would be better next year.

So would a lot of the teams the Panthers played, in the district and also in the playoffs. All those teams would be gunning for Petros, wanting to knock the Panthers off their pedestal.

Lucky knew what was needed. A lot of ice the first day, followed by many trips to the old whirlpool tub in the gym. He expected to become good friends with the tub this week. Lucky did not like getting in scorching hot water, but it sure beat standing on the sidelines, watching his teammates playing for a state championship.

He wondered if Gabby was asleep yet, knowing she tended to be a night owl and could watch movies all night, get a couple of hours of sleep and look like she slept all night. If she had a private telephone and it wouldn’t hurt so bad to get out of bed, Lucky would call her. But he knew her mother would answer the phone, not really thrilled to be awakened in the middle of the night just so he could talk to Gabby.

Lucky knew her parents liked him, but doubted a call in the middle of the night would improve their relationship.

He looked out the window and watched the rain beat against the glass, seeing the water slowly descend down. Lucky knew it might be storming outside and his ribs hurt like the dickens on the inside, but his blessings had been overflowing lately.

How else could he explain all the good fortune which came his way? His football team had made it to the state championship game, something nobody expected. The Panthers had beaten two of the best teams in his class to make it, in a pair of upsets people would talk about for years.

Plus, school was going good, his grades were excellent, and his relationship with Gabby was getting better every day. He just enjoyed being around her, hearing her talk, watching her smile and feeling her next to him when they held hands.

It made life even better, Lucky was sure of that. It was sometimes scary how well they got along. They didn’t ever argue, both of them willing to compromise in a way many married couples never could.

Neither of them put pressure on the other to do something they were not comfortable doing, a decision they reached early.

He imagined Gabby lying on her bed with the covers of the bed pulled over her while she watched some chick flick, her eyes misting up like they always did at the end. Lucky wondered if she thought about him late at night when sleep would not come.

It was way too early to think about marriage, of course, Lucky was only concerned with taking it day-by-day, but knew if things continued to progress, he would not mind spending the rest of his life with her.

He just hoped she felt the same way.

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There had not been this much excitement in Petros in years. All everybody could think about, talk about or dream about, was Saturday’s game against Anson for the state championship.

As people gathered together at church, in stores, the library or at each other’s house, the conversations were dominated by talk about the Panthers. There was some concern about the trouble downtown Saturday night with the Hodgen people, but luckily nobody was seriously hurt and the people who started it would have a lot of time to think about their actions in the county jail.

Most people had travel plans completed by noon on Monday. The booster club had chartered buses for those wanting to go to the game and not wanting to drive. Most of the churches also planned to take their buses to the game and return after it was over.

It was a good three hour trip to Stillwater from Petros, so many people decided to make it a weekend, going up early to watch some of the other championship games, then getting hotel rooms.

They discovered quickly hotel rooms in Stillwater were not so easy to come by, however, and they had to resort to staying in Oklahoma City or Tulsa, an hour’s trip in both directions.

Nobody cared, though. The Panthers were going after the gold ball Saturday and life was good. There were, of course, some residents who would not go to the game, mostly the elderly residents who either did not care about football or their health prevented the trip.

Practically everybody else would go. The people around town joked all week about how Petros would seem like a ghost town Saturday. Even the Sonic and other restaurants would close so their workers could go to the game.

Several churches had already cancelled services for the following Sunday, knowing most of their members would be gone, and that allowed the preachers to make the game also. Of course, they planned to have most of those people on their bus so they would sort of have church a little early and in a different way than usual.

All around town, banners were hanging, along with Petros flags. All the windows were painted with signs supporting the Panthers and urging them to bring home the gold ball. The little neon portable signs along the highway were not advertising any specials, urging support for Petros instead.

The Petros Weekly Herald already had a special edition out by Monday to celebrate the win with another one scheduled for Friday, with the regular issue coming out on Wednesday. It would be a tough week for Scoop, of course, but he was going on adrenaline, like many others.

Hodgen’s radio station would broadcast the game for everybody not making the trip, and for the other county residents. The advertisements were sold out in less than an hour, the local businesses wanting to make sure this special occasion was made possible to everybody.

People tried to go about their business as usual, but found it difficult. At school, nobody could get into learning that week, acting almost like they did the last week of school before Christmas or summer vacation. The teachers did their best, of course, but knew it was a losing battle.

For the businesses, they really had a bad week, nobody wanting to spend money that needed to be saved for the road trip to the finals. That did not mean people would not come in the stores, of course, it just meant that when they did, it was usually to talk about the game and discuss the Panthers’ chances, instead of buying anything other than necessities.

The school’s website got more traffic than it had all year. Old alumni who lived away visited the site to get all the details about the win over Honobia and the Anson game. Petros had a lot of alumni in Oklahoma City and Tulsa, and they planned to make the game, wanting to show their support and experience it.

Cole had so many phone calls it seemed like he spent most of his time talking to people, many he did not know and could not recall talking to later on. There were interviews with both major newspapers, along with the Anson paper, plus the Fort Smith television stations visited to do stores on the Panthers’ success.

Other coaches from around the state called, offering good luck. Knowing the Panthers needed it also, but neglecting to say so. There were cards of congratulations from all the universities and colleges, with handwritten messages from the head coaches.

Cole had been through this before, of course, but forgot how hectic it was. If it was this hectic playing in a high-school championship game, he had no idea how coaches in the colleges and pros got through national championship games and Super Bowls.

The Panthers would leave early Saturday morning in chartered buses. They had several planned stops for the players to use the restroom and stretch their legs. The bus would arrive early in the afternoon, allowing the Panthers to check into their hotel and rest until it was time for the game.

Cole had his team stay in a hotel the night before a game before, but it was a bad mistake. The players had not gotten enough rest from trying to sleep in a strange environment, so Cole had decided from then on if there was any chance to keep his players in their own bed that was the right thing to do.

His players seemed a little overwhelmed by all the attention, not used to seeing television cameras at practice and having to talk to people they had only seen before on television. It was cool for a while but the players also wished all the people would fade away and let them concentrate on getting ready to play Anson.

They needed something as practices were terrible, the worst Petros had looked all season. The players’ focus was scattered and assignments were missed on plays the players knew like the back of their hands.

It looked to Cole like the players had met a goal of getting to the state championship and that was good enough. He wondered how it could be this way. It was good to get to this point, of course, but he and the players should want to win state. Maybe he and the other coaches had put so much emphasis on getting to the title game and not enough about winning.

Cole knew the players were tired and beat up. They had been playing football for almost five months without a break and that was a lot to ask from a bunch of young men. Still, he expected a better attitude from the players, who had never been this overwhelmed before.

But there was a first for everything. The players were highly agitated, getting angry with each other over the missed assignments and other errors. So the coaches tried to get the players ready for Anson while also playing peacekeepers.

Lucky could not practice, per orders from the doctor. He was in such pain practice would be too much anyway so Gary got the snaps at quarterback.

Gary tried to get the players to straighten up on offense, along with Derwin on defense, but it did not seem to do any good. Everybody was just too tired.

Practices were terrible on Monday and Tuesday. When practice started the same way on Wednesday and did not show any signs of improvement, Cole called the team together.

They expected him to give them a good rear chewing, but their coach surprised them.

“We’re going to call off practice,” he announced. “There are a lot of things we need to work on but it’s not gonna do us a bit of good to practice until you guys are ready. I want everybody to go home, get some good rest and come back tomorrow ready to go. So don’t be out running any marathons, staying out late with your sweeties or getting into trouble. Rest up and tomorrow will be better.”

Several of the players just sat there, looking at each other with a look of disbelief. Here they were fixing to play the most important game of their life and their coach just sent them home.

They were also frustrated with how practices were going, but were certainly caught off guard by this. The players gathered up the equipment and started walking toward the locker room.

That was the first night Lucky got any good sleep since the game. His ribs still hurt, but the dull, persistent throb was not always present.

Whenever he moved, his ribs reminded him they were injured. But if he could be still, the pain went away. Lucky hated to see practices going so badly also, knowing the old saying of “how you will practice is how you will play” held a lot of truth to it.

He wondered if things would be different if the doctor allowed him to practice, but did not think it would change much. Lucky was worn out also, having gotten less sleep than most of his teammates. He was also tired of wearing ice packs and taking whirlpool baths.

His skin was either frozen or all wrinkled from the water. Lucky was glad nothing was broken, but did not feel like it could hurt worse.

He really did not feel like going to church that night, but would feel worse about missing the service. Lucky and Gabby went to the service and the calmness of the church sent away all the worry and the pain. Lucky relaxed for the first time, although the pew wasn’t exactly comfortable to sit on with his injury.

The service was great. Pastor Furman talked about the different ways God showed his love for his people and the great returns people got from Him. Pastor Furman said the more a person gave to God, the greater the reward would be.

It wasn’t just about finances, but about every way a person could give to God, through their time, effort, talent, witnessing and just helping out those who needed a helping hand.

Lucky was proud of Gabby, as she now brought a Bible to church and showed more interest every week. She used to act like the only reason to come was to be with him but Pastor Furman’s messages had reached her.

Several of his teammates were also at the service, along with Cole and Ichabod. They had worked on getting Stub to come to Wednesday services but he felt like going Sunday mornings met his quota for the week.

When they left the service and walked outside, they were met with the first snow of the year, a light misting forming on the autos but melting as it hit the ground. Lucky and Gabby stood under the cover of the driveway, watching the snowflakes drift down from above.

“That is so pretty,” she declared.

“Yep,” Lucky agreed.

She pulled away from him and gave a dirty glare.

“You’re supposed to say ‘Just like you’,” Gabby responded.

Lucky smiled, still watching the snow. Two young boys were trying to make snowballs off the snow from the hoods of a car, not having much luck.

“You’re much better looking than a bunch of snow,” Lucky added.

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Lucky had started it years earlier, keeping all the newspaper clippings on the Petros teams. He had quite a bit gathered up already, and was kept busy that week, cutting out every article about the Panthers. The coaches did not recommend the players read the articles, not wanting them to get a big head or get discouraged.

He read them all, of course, along with most of his teammates. Lucky was a little disappointed to see the lack of respect for his team as all the writers wrote about was how Saturday’s game with Anson should be a blowout.

Lucky thought this was a little strange as most of the people considering themselves experts never saw Petros play. Now if somebody had watched both the Panthers and Anson play and voiced that opinion, he would not have any problem with it.

But somebody who did not know where Petros was or even what color the uniforms were, but acted like an expert did not make Lucky happy.

The Panthers were always treated as an afterthought, most of the articles centered around how Anson might be the best Class 2A team ever. There were also stories about how Anson would be even stronger next year, a scary thought for Lucky, who after watching film wondered how any team could be that good or get better.

One of the writers from the Oklahoma City newspaper surprisingly wrote a good story about Petros. He did not predict an upset win, but wrote about how impressive the Panthers’ turnaround had been from starting with three straight losses and now winning eleven-straight games.

Lucky was bothered so much attention was devoted to him and whether he would play. He really wished the attention was directed to the seniors as they were the real leaders on the team and deserved most of the credit.

His father would not let any of the writers talk to the players so Lucky had not been able to get this message out, although it was one that needed to be voiced. He read the story in the local paper, enjoying Scoop’s rather wordy article.

It was homerism at its best, even predicting a shocking upset that would startle the state. Lucky doubted a Petros win would make little difference to ninety-nine percent of the people in the state, but Scoop’s story said the Panthers’ win would cause jaws to drop and amazement in the lives of all the residents of the great state of Oklahoma.

Scoop had obviously not seen any film of Anson, Lucky quickly determined after reading about how Petros would win the game in a huge upset and the writer would not be surprised if the game was a blowout.

Lucky knew that would look really good on Anson’s bulletin board, and his father would cringe when he read that story. But Lucky also knew some people would take it as the gospel, that whatever Scoop said was true.

If the prediction helped the confidence of his teammates, that was great. For Lucky, it did not matter because he knew Scoop wasn’t the most knowledgeable football expert.

Lucky did think Petros could win. It wasn’t a “should” win, because he knew what the Panthers would go against. But Lucky was also aware of how well Petros had played and rose to the occasion so many times.

Sure, all the Anson games had been blowouts this year, but Lucky doubted any of the Rams’ opponents put up the struggle Petros would.

Lucky just hoped he could play. Since he missed so much practice, Lucky knew starting was out of the question. There was a chance he could play, but only if the doctor said it was okay and the pain was not so bad.

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Thursday’s practice was much better as the players responded to Cole’s tactics, the extra rest giving them more spirit. The coaches put the players through another light practice, going over Anson’s tendencies.

Cole sent them home early again, not even running them at the end of practice. He decided if the players were not in shape now, having them run a few extra gassers would not make any difference.

Not making them run might give them fresher legs, however, which they needed. He sent the boys home, again telling them to be sure and get lots of rest.

Cole escaped quickly to his home, wanting to spend another night watching film of Anson. He had spent so much time with film that Anson was becoming very familiar to him. The biggest problem was the starters played so little as the games were blowouts that it was difficult to get a lot of information on of the starters.

He just knew they were big, fast, talented and used to winning. That was a dangerous combination. His players were not as big, fast or talented, but also were used to winning. Cole doubted Anson’s players had the heart his players did after all the Panthers overcame to get to this point.

Cole knew heart and character might not mean much to the average person, but it was huge to him. He had seen a lot of teams beat better and more talented teams by wanting to win more and by having better character, primarily refusing to lose.

That was how he felt about his boys. They were not the most talented team, of course, but they had great character and heart. He didn’t know any other reason for them to beat all these teams that had more talent.

He just hoped it carried over one more time.

Chapter 56

Chapter 54

Word about the celebration spread quickly, even to Hodgen, where the Bulldogs were in no mood for a celebrating since they lost the night before.

Since they could not celebrate, some Hodgen residents decided their neighbors should not be celebrating, either. Many football players, their friends, former players and other students decided to see what was going on in Petros and how they could mess it up.

It was a long line of vehicles that would cause concern if the police noticed the convoy. There wasn’t really any reason for anybody to worry, however, as the two towns had lived in peaceful existence for almost a hundred years, except for the occasional problem during the week of the football game.

Many of the residents knew each other and worked with each other.

The residents had supported their neighbors in times of trouble and when the other school participated in playoff games. There had been times of trouble, there always were in a rivalry this intense, and Cole usually did not want his players going to Hodgen during the week leading up to their games.

But as far as real trouble, that had never really occurred. But that was about to change.

The crowd was gathered downtown, practically filling up a city block, all cheering and celebrating.

The first in a long line of cars and trucks that made the short trip from Hodgen turned on Main Street, horns honking and insults flying. Several trucks followed closely behind the car, their beds filled with boys and men who had enough liquid courage they would fight the world.

The first beer bottle that was thrown landed just short of where the band was playing, sending glass flying in all directions. Another beer bottle was thrown into the crowd, hitting a high school girl just above the eye, opening a gash that looked like somebody slashed her with a knife.

More bottles flew in as more cars and trucks edged closer to the crowd, revving their engines, cranking their stereos to the maximum.

The boys and men from Petros were not enjoying this behavior and started advancing, dodging the beer bottles flying through the air. A call was sent out to the Petros police, advising them trouble was brewing.

Petros’ police staff was manned by one officer at that time, the other officer scheduled to be on duty having taken the day off to go watch the football game, then go to his father’s cabin.

The one officer on duty was Benjamin Paul, who had been a police officer all of three months. Standing only five-foot-seven and weighing 152 pounds, he was not the most imposing person in Petros. He had gone to the Sonic and was halfway through a footlong coney, minus the cheese and onions, when the call came over his radio.

He took one last big bite, washed it down with a drink, put the food back in the bag for later and left his parking spot, squealing the tires just a bit as he rounded the back, wanting everybody to know he had a call.

Nobody ever advised him what to do when a riot was developing in his downtown, although he figured the dispatcher was overreacting. Still, he turned the lights on, weaved in and out of traffic at a speed which was a little too high, crossed the railroad tracks and started back downtown, wondering why so many cars and trucks were advancing on downtown.

After turning on Main Street, Benjamin quickly decided he was out of his league and needed help. His downtown was fixing to explode, two large groups of people advancing on each other and more arriving quickly. He had sworn to uphold the peace and planned to do just that.

He just wasn’t sure how.

Benjamin put a call back to the dispatcher, urging her to get every police officer, highway patrolman and county cop to Petros pronto. The call went out, catching many officers either off-duty or eating their own dinner.

The two groups edged closer and Benjamin knew enough about human nature that they could not stand there long shouting at each other before one side advanced, then all the cops in this part of the state would have trouble breaking it up.

Benjamin pulled up as close as he could, got out of his car and ran to the center of trouble, seeing beer bottles tossed at his friends and neighbors. Bumper stickers caught his eye, letting him know the people were from Hodgen.

Figures, he thought. Benjamin pulled out his club and ran between the two groups, waving his arms and trying to get everybody’s attention.

On the Petros side, there were still a few players present and wanting to defend their town and friends from the invaders.

Walter Lee, one of Cole’s former players from two years earlier, gathered all of the current players together.

“You guys gotta go,” Walter directed.

“No way,” argued Denny Wall, whose cousin was the girl who got hit in the head with the beer bottle.

“Listen!” Walter hollered. “We can take care of this. There’s gonna be trouble and people arrested. You guys have got to get out of here before you get in trouble. Coach will make you miss the game if you get in trouble, even if somebody else started it."

Denny and the other players looked at each other, realizing what Walter said was true. Still, it was hard to walk away when people were attacking your town.

A beer bottle was thrown through the glass at the hardware store, breaking the huge window. For a brief second, there was silence, nobody believing this was happening.

Travis Toll was Jeremy’s brother. Their father owned the hardware store and he did not like seeing the front window broke. His father had worked his tail off to make that store work and Travis knew how much it would cost to fix the broken glass and how disappointed his father would be.

He could not let this happen.

Travis had no idea who threw the bottle, but as far as he was concerned, it was guilt by association. Whoever he got his hands on would pay. Unlike his younger brother, Travis was not small. He stood six-foot-two, weighed well over two hundred pounds, most of it solid muscle. He graduated two years before, but still worked out daily and could pass for a bodybuilder.

Benjamin was trying to keep the peace, praying for help to arrive. He saw his neighbor Travis sprinting toward the other side and tried holding him back, but couldn’t.

Travis had his eyes on the first guy standing in front of him. The guy from Hodgen never saw it coming and received a blow to the jaw that sent him sprawling to the ground, a couple of teeth flying into the crowd.

The Hodgen guys did not like to see one of their own get knocked out, and they advanced against Travis, who was standing in front of them, ready to take on every one of them.

He did not have to, of course, since there were some fifty other Petros guys coming to his aid. Benjamin was blasting his whistle, running around like Barney Fife, but not having any luck. The beer bottle, this one manufactured by the so-called “King of Beer” was thrown from the back of the group, not aimed at anybody in particular.

It couldn’t have hit the target if he was the intended victim, but out of blind luck, which Benjamin would consider to be bad luck, the bottle hit him right in the face, breaking his nose and knocking out most of his front teeth.

Benjamin went down like he was shot, the blood already making a puddle at his feet before his knees touched the ground. Two men went to help Benjamin.

That was the last straw. The men and boys from Petros went after the guests. The fight was about even with around fifty men on both sides.

Of course, that was not to stay that way for long. Calls had already gone out, telling others what was happening downtown. Other men and boys felt the call of duty to rescue their town and arrived to find a huge fight covering their downtown.

The odds were soon against the visitors from Hodgen, as they quickly saw there wasn’t just one or two Petros guys in front of them, but were getting surround by four or five, all wanting a piece of them.

Some men arrived to try and break up the fight, but found it useless. The men had their blood up now and wanted to extract some pain from the other side.

It soon turned into a bloodbath, the men and boys from Hodgen, realizing they had made a terrible mistake as they got pummeled to the ground. They sobered up quickly, wondering why they made this trip. There were bodies all over the ground when extra security arrived and the fighting was over for the most part as Petros had defended its soil from the invaders and delivered a beating like nobody had seen before.

Most of the Hodgen men were down, some truly hurt, others playing possum to avoid a further beating. A few Petros men were hurt also, but not nearly as many as there were Hodgen guys.

It was an ugly sight, one that would never be forgotten.

For the people of Petros, it was a sobering way to end what had been a glorious day.

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Cole was stunned when he heard about the riot downtown. Sarah called him on the cell phone and told him what happened.

He nearly dropped the phone into his food. The coaches had stopped to eat dinner at a restaurant in Henryetta. It was a small diner famous for the pies, but few people were eating at the moment. There were two waitresses, both bored, talking to each other behind the counter and flirting with the cook, a large Mexican with a mustache that extended past his chin.

The other coaches waited for Cole to finish before asking what happened.

“There was a big fight downtown,” he informed them, not wanting to finish his meal.

“What happened?” Lloyd asked, now wishing he had gone home with the team.

Cole relayed the information about the group from Hodgen coming to Petros to stir up trouble and getting more than they bargained for.

“Were any of our guys hurt?” Ichabod asked, the thought of having to take on the juggernaut from Anson with half a team causing indigestion.

“I don’t think so,” Cole answered. “We had a few guys there but they were told to go home and did.”

“That’s good,” Stub stated, a big mouthful of food making it hard to understand. “Did anybody get hurt?”

“I don’t know. From what I understand there are a bunch of guys from Hodgen who will be spending the holidays in jail or the hospital.”

The extent of the event would not set in until they saw the pictures the next day and heard the stories from the witnesses. Cole was just relieved none of his current players were involved, although he expected some of his former players took part in it and made those idiots from Hodgen wish they had stayed home.

They all wanted to get home quicker, to find out what really happened.

Cole was truly bothered, both by the events in Petros and from what he had seen at the other semifinal game.

He had seen some really good football teams over the years in his class, several of those from Anson. But Cole had just witnessed a team like he had never seen before.

“You okay?” Ichabod asked.

“You look like somebody put rat droppings on your food,” Stub mentioned.

“I was just thinking about Anson,” Cole responded. “Those boys are good.”

“You’d think they would have to recruit to get so many studs,” Lloyd said.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if they could go up two classes and win state,” Stub added.

“Yeah, but we’re gonna have to figure out how to keep them from winning our class,” Cole informed them. “That’s probably the best team Anson’s ever had.”

“It’s just not fair,” Stub protested. “A team should either be big or they should be fast. When they’re big and fast it makes it almost impossible to win.”

“Yeah, and it would be a lot better if they were good on offense or defense,” Ichabod continued. “When they’re good on both sides, that makes it even tougher.”

“We’re gonna have all kinds of trouble stopping them,” Lloyd commented, which earned him a dirty look from Ichabod. “We’ve never played anybody with that kind of size and speed and that running back’s something else. I don’t know that he got tackled all night.”

“Our defense is a lot better than Windsor’s,” Ichabod reminded Lloyd. He was having some of the same doubts Lloyd and the other coaches did, but still did not like anybody insulting the black shirts.

“Windsor wouldn’t have gotten past the quarterfinals in our bracket,” Stub remarked. “Those guys were weak.”

“I think part of that was who they were playing,” Cole replied.

“Naw, those guys stink,” added Lloyd. “We would’ve rolled half a hundred on ‘em if we wanted.”

“Maybe, but Anson rolled eighty-four on them,” Stub stated. “We have trouble scoring that many points in basketball, let alone football.”

“And it could have been worse,” Lloyd added. “Anson’s coach was kind. He called off the dogs fast.”

“That sounds strange,” Stub mentioned. “Hearing somebody say a coach was kind right after his boys scored eighty-four points on another team. But it’s true. If that’d been that Summerfield’s coach they’d still be scoring touchdowns.”

“Maybe their bus will break down next week,” Lloyd suggested. “Then they’d have to forfeit.”

“That would be a really good thing to tell the boys in practice this week,” said Cole, a little irritated at his older son. “I don’t think we can beat Anson but we better show up just in case their bus breaks down and they have to forfeit.”

“Stranger things have happened,” Stub said.

“I wouldn’t want to win like that,” Cole pointed out.

“Neither would I,” Ichabod added.

“I’d take it,” Stub countered.

“A win’s a win,” Lloyd said, then laughed.

Cole blanked out the conversation among the three others, not wanting to be rude but wishing to focus on plans for the coming week. He knew it would be difficult to win this game, especially if Lucky did not play.

He wondered how Lucky’s ribs felt and whether he would play. Cole knew that the only way Lucky would not play was if the doctor held him out.

The boy would not play if there were any chance of permanent danger, Cole didn’t care if it did cost Petros a state championship. This wasn’t something he would only implement on his son, but it would be that way for any of the Panthers.

A win was not that important to Cole. Sure, sleep would be difficult for a while if it was a difficult loss, but Cole doubted he could ever get a good night’s sleep if he played a player who shouldn’t be playing and that boy got hurt.

He knew Lucky was hurting bad and that ribs were usually not quick to respond. It took time for the pain to go away. They could provide him with a rib pad like they did earlier in the year, but while that provided an extra layer of protection in case of a hit, it would not ease pain already existing.

Cole would never admit it to anybody, but he thought Lucky had improved more this season than any other player on the team. Lucky was now a definite asset at quarterback, a player other teams had to worry about. Not just some sophomore trying not to mess up, like he was early in the season.

Lucky was now one of the best quarterbacks Cole had coached, having the rare ability to hurt the other team with his legs, his arms and brain. Other quarterbacks had been gifted in one of those areas and some in two, but it was rare to have somebody talented in all three areas.

Cole knew Lloyd was that way, although sometimes his oldest son acted like he was having a brain cramp, and Tatum Sloan had been that way.

When Tatum was playing, there wasn’t a team in the state Cole was afraid to play and he expected to feel the same way about Lucky in the future. As to comparing Lucky with Tatum as sophomores, there was no comparison.

Tatum was good as a sophomore, but only truly blossomed as a junior, his improvement a surprise to everybody on that team. Cole had no idea if it would happen with his son, but if Lucky made that kind of improvement, he would be a stud.

Cole wished he gave Gary a bigger hug. He certainly deserved it, along with the game ball Cole presented him after the game.

Gary stepped up big for his team, not showing any effects of not playing much at quarterback over the second half of the season. He wasn’t all that talented as a quarterback, but nobody had a bigger heart or tried harder.

Cole knew the Panthers would put up the equipment on Monday if it weren’t for Gary, and for that he was extremely grateful.

They finished their food and started back on the long drive to southeastern Oklahoma. The drive down the interstate was boring for Cole, each mile looking almost the same as the preceding one. He wondered how anybody drove trucks for a living. It would be too boring to him, although Cole always wanted to go around the country and see the sights. Seeing them from the interstate just wasn’t his cup of tea.

Stub and Lloyd were having a good time in the back, cutting up and telling stories. They acted like best buddies, despite the age difference. Cole wondered how his oldest son could be so different, always looking to have a good time and not worry about anything.

Cole sometimes wished he did not worry so much, but doubted it was possible to be as carefree as Lloyd. Life was a party for him. He stayed out of trouble, but pushed the envelope at times.

He knew Lloyd could be an excellent coach if his son ever got serious, and would have a relationship with the players Cole never had. Lloyd would be a player’s coach, there was no doubt about that.

Even now, the players loved to hang out with him, listening to his stories and the never-ending supply of jokes. Cole also knew Lloyd had football smarts Stub and Ichabod did not have.

Cole knew Ichabod and Stub could be a good head coach, but they could not take a team to a higher level like the best coaches. Few coaches were able to do that, but Cole was convinced Lloyd had the talent to do so, if he ever got the desire.

Ichabod and Stub had opportunities over the years to leave Petros and be head coaches, but they always turned them down. None of the jobs were good programs and his two assistants were about as far up a ladder as they could climb without falling off.

Now, as far as assistant coaches went, Cole could not ask for anybody better. Ichabod was a great defensive coordinator, but would not be as good of a head coach because he would have trouble getting the kids motivated.

Ichabod was a great teacher and an X’s and O’s coach, but would have trouble pulling a team together.

Stub would have the kids fired up to play, probably too fired up, but was not the most organized individual around. Now, if there were some way to combine the two, that would make an excellent head coach. But apart, they were good assistants and Cole always felt fortunate to have them.

Cole was just glad they accepted this and never went through the disappointment of being a head coach and getting canned for losing too many games.

With his eyes getting heavy, Cole decided it was time to let somebody else take over the driving. All the other coaches would be happy to drive, but Ichabod would take forever to get home, Stub drove all over the road, not letting the two lines interfere with his driving, while Lloyd would get them home quickly, hopefully without a ticket.

Cole pulled over at a gas station at the nearest exit, appalled at the gas prices posted on a sign. They were a good five cents a gallon more than any other place they passed.

He swapped places with his son, hoping not to be awakened by the flashing lights of a highway patrolman.

“Don’t speed,” Cole pleaded, handing Lloyd the keys.

“No problem,” Lloyd responded, then hopped in the car, turned on the radio and revved the engine. “Hold on, boys, we’re moving out.”

Chapter 55

Chapter 53

All the cars, trucks and buses formed a caravan for the trip back to Petros. It seemed to stretch for miles, backing up traffic. As they passed through towns, all the people stopped and stared, wondering what was up with the lunatics with all the banners and their cars and trucks painted.

Cole, Ichabod, Stub and Lloyd were not in the caravan, actually heading in the opposite direction. They left quickly after the game was over, letting a couple of teachers ride on the team bus to make sure the players did not tear anything up.

The coaches were heading to Norman, home of the University of Oklahoma, to hopefully arrive in time to watch the other semifinal game between Anson and Windsor.

Lucky was riding home with Sarah and Gabby, knowing the car ride would be a lot less rough than the bus. He would have liked to enjoy the celebration with his teammates, but did not feel like laughing and yelling.

He and Gabby were sitting in the backseat, holding hands. Before they left the stadium, they had wrapped an ice bag next to the injured area, numbing the pain a little and making him feel like he was freezing.

It had been his father’s suggestion for him to ride home with the doctor, one Lucky jumped on, after making sure it was okay if Gabby accompanied him.

Gabby and the doctor had barely met before today but were talking like they had known each other for years. Gabby was not really sure what she wanted to do with her life, was considering the medical field, and talked it over with Sarah.

Lucky closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but it was hard with the pain and his side and back freezing. It hurt even to breath, let alone talk so he sat still and thought about playing for a state championship. He knew it would be Anson and that excited him, getting a chance to play against a team with that kind of tradition.

Anson had ruined the previous two trips to the state championship for Petros and Lucky hoped the third time was the charm. The thought that his ribs might keep him from playing had not entered his mind, nor would it. Lucky wondered what it would feel like playing at Lewis Field in a stadium that could host over fifty thousand people.

There wouldn’t be that many people there, of course, but it would still be memorable. He had been there before, of course, and remembered what everything looked like, but it still wasn’t the same as it would be to actually play there.

Gabby and the doctor continued talking a mile a minute, seldom letting any kind of lapse disturb their conversation. Lucky wondered how people could talk this much as the gift of gab was never given to him.

He could hold up his end of a conversation, if necessary, but could not imagine talking this much to anybody, even Gabby or his father. Gabby was a talker, as was Doctor Moore. Since Lucky did not care to talk, that was fine with him. He answered when asked a question, but otherwise stayed to himself, enjoying feeling Gabby next to him, just wishing she would sit still and stop squirming so much.

----------

Going the opposite direction at a speed which pushed the allowed limits set by the Oklahoma State Highway Patrol, Cole and the coaches were driving down Highway 9, a two-lane road trying to get to Norman in time for the kickoff of the Anson game.

The coaches were acting like a bunch of teenagers on their first road trip, laughing, joking and telling stories about themselves and each other. This was the first time Lloyd got to experience this and while some of the stories were lame, it was good to see these men having a good time.

Cole participated in the fun, but his thoughts were elsewhere, wondering how Lucky was doing. He also missed Sarah, which he found to be a strange emotion. Other than his sons, there had not been any reason to miss anybody else in so long that it felt weird.

The small towns dotting the roads went by, not having any luck in luring Cole and his party in to spend money. They had already gone by several and were on the outskirts of Norman.

They finally arrived in Norman. Cole took a couple of shortcuts and they parked near the Gaylord Family Memorial Stadium.

This monument to Oklahoma University football amazed him every time he saw it. Now at over 80,000 capacity, more people could attend a football game here than there were people in over ninety percent of the cities in Oklahoma. He usually tried to attend a game here every year but failed this year.

The thing he remembered most about this stadium was the noise produced in this bowl, a roar that sounded louder than a jet airplane roaring above. He wondered what it would feel like to play in this stadium with it filled. Cole figured people got used to it but just being close gave him chill bumps as he thought of all the great teams and players who played here.

They hurried to the pass gate and entered the stadium, quickly walking through an opening to the stands. They could sit up in the press box if they wanted, but since the weather was fairly nice now, Cole wanted to sit in the stands.

This was the Anson side and some of the fans saw Cole and the coaches and figured out by the black jackets with the big “P” on it where they were from. A few fans congratulated the coaches on beating Honobia, but they stayed away for the most part.

Both teams were on the field, getting ready for kickoff. Anson was in its home uniforms with maroon shirts and helmets with yellow pants.

Windsor was dressed all in white with blue numbers.

Cole knew Windsor was a good team, well coached and talented. He also knew from talking to other coaches that Windsor was fortunate to be in this game, benefiting from the easiest bracket to get into the semifinals.

Petros’ coaches were more concerned with Anson, of course, figuring the Rams would win fairly easily to extend their winning streak. Cole thought back to how the Panthers reacted after beating Honobia earlier today, stopping their winning streak. He wondered what it would feel like if they could beat Anson and stop the Rams’ streak, now at forty plus games and counting.

The first thing that struck Cole was the size of Anson’s players. The Rams were large, much bigger than he expected. This wasn’t good considering Anson usually had the best team speed in the class, also.

It didn’t take Cole long to find Wayman Hayes, a junior running back for Anson already declared the best high school player in the state.

The program listed him at six foot and weighing one hundred and eighty five pounds. Reportedly, Wayman could run a 4.3 in the forty and squatted over five hundred pounds. Despite usually only playing half the games because the Rams were so far ahead, he scored over 40 touchdowns this year and rushed for almost three thousand yards.

All the top colleges were already pursuing him even though Wayman was only a junior. Cole saw Wayman’s legs looked like fire hydrants and his arms were bigger than most players’ legs. Even if Wayman was all Anson had, the Rams would have a good football team.

But Cole knew Anson was loaded at other positions, also, as usual for a team with that kind of tradition. The coaches had considered bringing some of the players along, but decided against it to let them get home, celebrate and hopefully get some rest.

Cole was glad he had done that, not wanting the players to get intimidated.

As the game started, Cole saw what all the excitement was about. Anson was that good, easily the best team he had seen in years. The Rams were as big as Honobia and faster than Albion. From what he saw, Cole did not detect any weakness.

Anson’s lines just dominated Windsor and the backs did whatever they wanted. Cole knew Windsor had one of the better defenses in the state but looked helpless against the Rams, falling behind quickly and powerless to do anything about it.

Anson led 21-0 midway through the first quarter. Wayman scored the first three times he touched the ball, looking like a pro playing against a Pop Warner team.

Windsor’s offense also struggled. Running, passing or trick plays were hopeless. By halftime, the score was 49-0 and Anson’s starters were on the bench.

The coaches stayed until midway through the third quarter, deciding it was not doing them any good to watch the Rams’ substitutes completely dominate Windsor’s starters. The score was 63-0 by then and Anson’s coaches were reigning in his players, trying to keep the score from getting any worse.

It was a humbling experience for the Petros coaches. They had not seen anything like this before and were stunned.

Ichabod was shaken even more than the others, knowing his defense would have to figure out some way to try and slow this juggernaut, a tact that looked almost impossible.

“Well, we’re gonna have to step it up a bit next week,” Stub commented, an understatement that would make the others laugh if they were not so overwhelmed.

“How could one team be so talented?” Ichabod wondered aloud, not expecting an answer.

“Those guys could play with any team in the state,” Lloyd remarked.

Cole let the others talk, trying to figure out some way to match up against the Rams. He had never seen a team in Class 2A look this good either, also wondering how Anson got so many good players.

Sure, players were brought up on the Anson tradition and they had an excellent youth program and great coaching, but all the good players in that area must move there so they could play for the Rams.

When you won so many state championships and players knew the chances of winning more were good, Cole figured it was easy to get players to come play for you.

Cole and Ichabod were sitting up front with Lloyd and Stub in the back. Cole was still driving but planned on having somebody step in at the first stop.

“What did you think, Cole?” Ichabod asked.

He heard Stub and Lloyd having some meaningless conversation in the backseat and tried to ignore it, but Stub’s squeaky voice kept popping up.

“I think that was a great team we saw,” Cole replied. “For us to win, we’ll have to play the best game we ever have.”

“You really think we can win?” Lloyd asked, getting dirty looks from Ichabod and Stub.

“If I didn’t, we sure wouldn’t show up next week,” Cole answered. “Yeah, I saw the same things you guys did. Can we beat them? I don’t know. Will we try to beat them? With everything we’ve got. Why am I asking myself questions then answering them? I have no idea.”

Lloyd and the other coaches laughed, surprised Cole had a sense of humor.

“All I know is we’ll come out and play hard,” Cole stated. “I don’t expect our guys to lay down like Windsor did. They were beat before they came out on the field.”

The music on the radio ended, with news filling the space. Another person came on and gave the sports, telling the scores of all the games.

He said in the Class 2A semifinals the “surprising” Petros Panthers had upset Honobia today, 21-20, then added that Anson wound up winning its game, 84-0

“And they didn’t even try to run up the score,” Stub pointed out.

“Anson could’ve scored a hundred if they’d wanted to,” Ichabod added.

Cole wondered what the reaction to the final score was in Petros. He knew the people in Petros were big sports fans and probably knew the final score of Anson’s game even before he did.

“I hope our boys don’t watch the sports tonight,” Stub stated. “Seeing Anson might intimidate them.”

Cole wanted to say something, but knew that it would not sound right so he let it go.

He did not like that the others riding with him did not think the Panthers had a chance against Anson. Sure, the Rams were that good, but things could bounce funny in a football game, there had been too many huge upsets over the years.

Cole knew some people would say it was just a fluke his team was in the state championship and beat Honobia. But he knew Petros had not received help from anybody. The breaks that went his team’s way were the result of the way the Panthers played, not mistakes by the other team.

The celebration in Petros started as soon as people returned from the game and continued into the night with many players, students and alumni gathered together to celebrate the win over Honobia. Along the highway, signs that only hours before urged the Panthers to beat Honobia were already changed, asking Petros to take state and beat Anson.

Most of the Panthers were among the crowd downtown, but fatigue set in and most of them retired early, seeking the call of the bed. An impromptu band was formed from among former band members and current ones to play the school song.

The celebration was still going on while the coaches drove down the interstate. The policemen took part for a while, enjoying the activities while making sure things did not get out of control. Nobody had beer or any alcohol so the police were not overly concerned.

Everybody was so well behaved the police decided to start their rounds, just minutes before it started.

Chapter 54

Chapter 52

Petros would get the ball to start the second half. The teams met with their coaches one last time then took the field and lined up for the kickoff.

After getting the go-ahead, the kicker approached the ball and slipped, just as Jeremy had earlier. The kick was rather ugly, bouncing along the ground until Derwin fell on the ball at the 26.

Petros’ offense took the field and lined up, again choosing to bypass the huddle.

Cole decided to go with Tatum’s selection and called an option on first down. Lucky ran the play, saw a big gap and placed the ball in D.J.’s belly.

D.J. was not expecting to get the ball, though, and never had control. The football popped free, bounced on the ground once and landed right in front of one of the linebackers. He fell on the ball before any of the Panthers arrived, giving his team the ball and great field position.

The Panthers were stunned. The offensive players slowly made their way to the sidelines while several players came out on the field for defense.

Honobia started pounding away at the Panthers again, hitting them right up the gut. The Lions picked up two first downs and moved inside Petros’ 10.

Happy was sent back in for Tim, trying to strengthen the middle of the defense.

The defense huddled up. Derwin was the last player in the huddle and was not happy.

“That’s enough of this crud!” he hollered, looking around at his teammates. “No more! We stop them right here. I don’t care what it takes. We will not be pushed back one more inch or I will whip every one of you.”

The Panthers’ knew he was not kidding and it inspired them to pick it up a level.

A run over the left tackle was stuffed as the Panthers gave up no ground. The tailback tried to pop outside but Gary knifed in and dropped him for a loss of a yard.

The next play went to the other side. Happy squirted through a small opening, dove under the fullback’s block and hit the tailback right below the knees, taking his legs out for a loss of two yards.

Honobia tried to pass on third down. The Panthers had everybody covered and the quarterback had to throw the ball away as Happy was coming hard and looked like he wanted to remove his opponent’s head.

The Lions’ field-goal team came out on the field to try a 29-yard field goal.

Cole had a feeling something was up as he knew Honobia’s kicker did not have a good leg. He could not recall seeing Honobia try a field goal in any of the films, probably because they don’t have to try field goals. But the kicker’s leg was not that strong and Cole doubted he could make it.

He hollered at Harry and finally got his player’s attention.

“Watch out for the fake!” Cole hollered.

Ichabod kept the defense in the nickel, expecting a fake. Petros would come hard with the line and linebackers while the secondary guarded against a possible trick play.

The snap was perfect from the center. The holder was the starting quarterback. He fielded the snap easily and put the ball down on the black kicking tee. Just as the kicker started to boot the ball, the holder pulled the ball back, stood up and rolled to his right.

Everybody on Petros’ side was hollering “fake”, but it was a waste of energy. The defense was ready for the play and already figured out what was happening.

Harry fought through a block by one of the tackles and started his chase. Honobia only had two players out for the pass and as the quarterback rolled out, he realized nobody was open.

He had no choice but to tuck the ball and run. The quarterback never saw what was coming. Harry caught him from the side, going full speed, and hit him so hard the quarterback was flattened before even realizing he was hit.

Harry rose quickly and stuck out his hand to offer to help the quarterback up. The quarterback was too shaken to get up. Seeing this, Harry turned around just in time to get mobbed by his teammates.

Petros took over on its own 14. D.J. was getting a little winded and Kenneth was not a hundred percent so Seth got the call, looking like a grade-school kid competing against men.

Seth got the call on first down, had to search for a hole and after finding nothing open, took off toward the end.

One of Honobia’s players was in pursuit. Seth stopped, cut back past his pursuer, and burst into the secondary.

Honobia eventually caught him at the 36 and brought him down. The run got Petros out of a hole and gave the Panthers better field position.

Skip picked up six more yards on a dive. The Panthers went with an option again. Lucky faked the handoff to Seth and kept around the corner. He saw the cornerback was more worried about Skip so Lucky turned up the field and took off.

One of the safeties tried an arm tackle but Lucky easily sidestepped him. He broke free and crossed midfield before getting taken down.

Cole called an option the other way. Lucky went with his first option, handing off to Skip, who found a big hole as the Lions were now more concerned with the Panthers getting outside.

Skip nearly broke it. Only a diving effort by the safety kept him from going the distance.

Honobia had given up worrying about the pass and was moving all the players close to the line. Lucky saw this as he approached the line and changed the play.

He made sure all the players heard him then started with the signals. Lucky took the snap, faked a handoff to Seth going to his left, rolled out and found what he hoped to see. Harry was running a crossing route and had a slight lead on the cornerback.

Lucky’s pass was slightly behind him but Harry turned around and caught the ball. He avoided the defensive back and took off down the field. The Petros fans started celebrating in the stands, hoping to see a touchdown.

Harry had just gotten to the 5 when the free safety dove at him. The safety missed the tackle but his hand came down on Harry’s right arm at an angle that knocked the football free.

The ball came down, bounced once and was covered by the safety. Harry never broke stride and crossed into the end zone. All the Petros side started celebrating, never seeing the ball was stripped.

Harry threw on the brakes and quickly turned around, looking for the ball. He saw the ball was recovered by the safety and fell to his knees.

It was a crushing blow to the Panthers as they realized what happened. Nobody felt worse about it than Harry, who always took care of the ball and never fumbled.

He came slowly to the sidelines, on the verge of breaking down. This was a player who was as tough as anybody on the field, even with his small stature. The coaches and his teammates tried to console him, but it did little good.

Harry was convinced he had just lost the game for his team.

Honobia took advantage in the change in momentum and started one of its patented drives, practically shoving the ball down the throats of the Panthers on every play.

The drive ate up yardage and the clock. Ichabod sent Happy in again, but this time it did not help.

The buzzer sounded, ending the third quarter as the Lions neared midfield. The change of directions did nothing to slow the onslaught as the huge line pounded away at the Panthers with the large backs coming right behind them.

Petros’ defense was getting worn out, both from the pounding and the time on the field. Ichabod started rotating players to try and keep them fresh but it did not help.

For a football purist, the drive was a thing of beauty. For Cole and the Panthers, however, the drive was more painful than an abscessed tooth.

Petros still had some fight left but it did not seem to be enough. The Panthers stopped two running plays inside the 5 but the third run produced another touchdown.

The Panthers were on the verge of giving up. Cole felt the same way but knew he couldn’t show that emotion to his players. It was hard not to blame them. Most of the players only went through the motions on the extra point.

Only one player went hard and it was Harry. He cut inside the outside blocker and looked like a blur as he angled toward the holder. He dove at the last second, his right hand catching the ball flush, knocking it to the ground.

Honobia’s kicker retreated back and grabbed the ball but Harry got up quickly and tackled him.

The play received some applause from the Petros side, but most people doubted it would make any difference. Honobia now led 20-0 with less than eight minutes left.

Kenneth and Seth went back to return the kick. It was the best kick of the night for the Honobia kicker, a long high one that came down in Seth’s arms at the 7.

He caught the ball cleanly and took off, trying to find an opening. The Lions converged on him at the 28. Just before he went down, Seth saw Kenneth some five yards away and behind him.

Seth didn’t give it a second though. He tossed the ball back in Kenneth’s direction. It caught Kenneth off guard but he recovered quickly. He grabbed the pitch with both hands while standing still. Kenneth saw most of the kicking team had surrounded Seth and didn’t know the ball was pitched back to him.

Kenneth took off and was soon moving at full speed. The Lions had figured out what happened and were chasing him. Two Honobia players were in front of him, determined to keep him from getting by.

He saw the players and cut sharply to his left to get away from one of the defenders. The other player was the kicker and tried to slow Kenneth long enough for help to arrive.

Kenneth faked to his left then cut back to his right. The kicker lunged in the wrong direction, grabbing nothing but air until falling to the ground.

Honobia had several players bearing down on him. The only question was whether they could catch him.

They had the angle and finally caught him at the Honobia 23. But just as Kenneth was brought to the ground, he looked around and saw Gary trailing the play. Kenneth pitched the ball back just before hitting the ground, leading Gary perfectly.

Gary had also not expected to receive a pitch but caught the ball and never broke stride. He blew past two defenders and sped toward the end zone. The final Honobia player dove at Gary, who dodged the tackle easily.

The Honobia player was rewarded with mud and water getting splashed in his face as he watched Gary sprint into the end zone.

The play brought the Panthers’ side back to life, cheering one of the wildest plays they had seen.

Cole was as stunned as everybody. All the players and coaches were jumping up and down, knowing they had seen something special. This time, there were no flags on the field.

Jeremy’s kick was good and the score was cut to 20-7.

Cole gathered the kicking team around him to relay his instructions.

“Line up like usual,” Cole ordered. “But Jeremy is going to kick the ball like it’s an onside kick straight ahead. You inside guys are going to have to get there quick and take out any Honobia players.”

All the players nodded and went out on the field to line up. Honobia’s players waited to see how Petros lined up. Seeing it was not an onside kick formation, the Lions lined up in their regular formation.

Cole saw Honobia had two linemen in the middle of the field, right where Jeremy’s kick would go.

“Gotcha,” Cole muttered, not loud enough for anybody else to hear.

His players followed his directions perfectly. Jeremy approached the ball like it was a normal kick, only slowing at the last second and barely kicking the top of the ball, causing it to go bouncing end-over-end.

Derwin and Happy were the two players nearest Jeremy. They had the assignment to rush ahead and take out any players trying to field the kick.

They moved like sprinters, getting to the two linemen before the Honobia players could get to the ball. It was two huge collisions that left the Honobia players reeling backwards.

Jeremy was trailing behind the ball closely, waiting for it to go ten yards. Finally, it crossed midfield and he fell on it.

The play further encouraged the Petros side and the fans started getting back into the game. Everybody knew it would be difficult, but the Panthers had pulled off some miracle comebacks in the past and knew it could happen again.

Cole sent the offense out in the spread formation with Seth joining Lucky in the backfield. The Lions were not expecting this and Lucky took advantage, hitting Andy near the far sidelines for a gain of 11.

Andy quickly got out of bounds to stop the clock and the offense lined up without huddling.

The Panthers were going for it on this play, but if it did not work, it should set up the next play.

As the ball was snapped, the Panthers’ wideouts took off sprinting toward the end zone. Lucky retreated back a little farther than normal, knowing he needed a little extra time on this play.

The Honobia rush was coming hard with four linemen and one linebacker trying to get to Lucky before he got rid of the ball. Lucky waited, hoping somebody would get open. Nobody broke free so Lucky let the rush get on top of him, then lobbed a pass to Seth out on the right flank.

Seth was all alone. He caught the pass and had nothing but green grass in front of him for over twenty yards. Seth almost scored but was finally brought down.

Petros came to the line and Lucky called the play. Three Panthers were wide to the right. Andy was the only receiver to the left. Lucky saw Honobia’s best defensive back was now covering Andy, but doubted that made any difference.

Andy still had a good six inches on his defender. As the ball was snapped, the defensive back tried to jam Andy at the line but the Petros receiver broke free, just as the coaches instructed him.

He had no advantage as far as speed and the coverage was excellent. While sprinting down the field, Andy faked like it was a post route and broke toward the corner of the end zone.

It gave him a step. Andy knew the pass was in the air before turning around. He looked into the sky and saw the ball gliding through the air. Lucky had let go of the pass long before Andy made his cut. It was the same route they had run so many times before, one that worked more times than it didn’t.

The defensive back knew the ball was coming and closed quickly. He struck his arm up, hoping to somehow deflect the ball. Unlike Andy, the defensive back did not find the ball.

Lucky knew the pass was a little high, just hoped it wasn’t too high. It was also obvious Andy was having trouble with the defensive back all over him.

At the last second, Andy fought loose and jumped, his long arms stretched to their maximum length. He didn’t think there was a chance to even touch the ball but while continuing to elevate, Andy’s hands got high enough to reach the ball.

His legs were coming out from under him and the defensive back was wrestling with him, trying to knock the ball loose. But Andy’s hands were like a vice and he was determined not to let go, much like a snapping turtle once it got hold of something.

Andy landed hard on his back with the defensive back falling on top of him. It hurt badly, but Andy would not let go. He wrestled away from the Honobia player and held the ball up, making sure the officials knew the ball was in his hands and was never dropped.

Even before the officials gave the signal for the touchdown, the Petros side started celebrating, the belief growing that this game was far from over.

The Panthers stopped celebrating long enough to get the kicking team lined up. The snap and hold were good, along with the kick.

There were now just over five minutes left. Petros had cut the lead to 20-14 and nobody dared to sit.

Cole knew there was plenty of time left. But he had to decide whether to go with another onside kick or kick it deep and hope his defense stopped the Lions once more.

If the onside kick failed, Honobia would get the ball around midfield and the game might as well be over. He knew it would almost be impossible to recover another onside kick. But at the same time, Cole was worried about his battered defense.

He gathered the coaches and Lloyd around to get their advice. Nobody could decide whether this was a wise choice.

“Heck, let’s ask the boys,” Lloyd suggested. “They’re the ones trying to stop them anyway.”

Cole decided it was the best idea he had heard. He called the defense together around him.

“Okay, guys, you know the situation,” Cole stated. “We’ll probably need to kick deep since they’ll expect another onside kick. That means for us to win the game, we’ll have to stop them one more time. I know you guys are tired and beat up, but I gotta know if we can stop them and get the ball back for our offense.”

Cole looked around at each of his players. He saw the determination back in their eyes. They were just waiting for somebody to speak up.

“Can we stop them?” Cole asked again.

Derwin stepped forward, putting on his muddy white helmet.

“Count on it,” he promised.

The other defenders started nodding their heads in agreement.

“Good,” Cole countered. “I know you guys can do it. I don’t care what Coach Stub says.”

“Huh?” Stub asked, hearing his name and wondering why the defensive team was giving him the evil eye.

Petros’ kickoff team sprinted out on the field and the roar began again. As they waited for the officials, the players started waving their arms and jumping up and down. The fans continued to grow louder, honoring their players.

Stub slid up next to Lucky on the sidelines.

“Isn’t this great?” he asked.

Lucky chuckled.

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” he said, never taking his eyes off the kicking team.

Stub nodded, remembering the old song of the same title. As he walked away, Stub started whistling the song.

Jeremy was told to proceed by the official. He looked down the field and saw the Lions expected another onside kick.

Only one player was back deep. Jeremy approached the ball slowly and threw his foot into the ball, kicking it away from all the players lined up in front of him.

The kick was long and high, coming down just inside the 10. The Panthers on the right side of the field flew down the field, not having to worry about any blockers as most of the Lions were lined up on the other side of the field.

The kick returner was alone, like he was on an island with half a dozen players bearing down on him. He could have and probably should have gone out of bounds. But he chose to return the kick and made it out to the 23 before the Panthers caught him and simply crushed him.

It was a vicious hit, almost hard enough to dislodge the ball. The Honobia player was a little slow getting up, his legs not willing to cooperate.

Both teams knew this drive would go a long way toward determining which team won the game. If the Lions got a couple of first downs, the clock would run out and the Panthers would never get another chance to score.

Everybody knew what was coming. Nobody knew if the Panthers had enough to stop it, however. Honobia was going to come after the Panthers, right up the middle and hard, just like they had all game.

The call was a blast up the middle. The running back came hard, running behind his huge line. Petros’ defense refused to budge this time. Happy fought off the block of the fullback and filled the hole. The tailback bounced outside, finding a little room.

He cut back inside and picked up six yards, more than Petros could afford to give up.

As the defense huddled, Derwin was not happy.

“We can’t give up that much!” he hollered, stepping to the middle of the huddle. “You’ve gotta get strong and tough!”

The defensive players refused to look into Derwin’s eyes, afraid they would be melted to the ground like the wicked witch on “The Wizard of Oz”.

Honobia came back with the same play to the opposite side. Petros’ line stayed strong, only giving a little room from the push of the line.

Derwin came forward to fill the hole, meeting the 230-pound fullback. It was a collision that had been repeated all night. They had pounded away at each other with everything they had. Both knew they would feel this the next day but could care less.

Neither player gave up any ground. The players on both sides heard the collision and wondered how either player could get up after the hit. The tailback hurdled over the two prone players, picking up an additional three yards before Happy and Gary grabbed him and pulled him back.

The officials marked the ball and called in the chains for a measurement.

Derwin slowly rose to his feet, shaking his head to clear it. He had never hit anybody so hard or been hit so hard.

He slowly made his way back to the huddle, watching the Honobia fullback struggle to his feet, then collapse back to the ground. He looked like a drunk struggling to rise and failing badly.

Derwin smiled as the Honobia players looked at him with a mixture of awe and admiration. They knew their fullback was something special. Anybody who did what Derwin had done to him was a stud.

“You okay?” Skip asked.

“A lot better than he is,” Derwin answered.

The Honobia coaches came out on the field and helped the fullback to the sidelines as the officials checked to see if it was a first down.

The ball was just short of the marker, not more than three links of the chain.

It was third-and-short, the biggest play of the game and the season for both teams.

The Lions took their time, using as much of the clock as possible before breaking the huddle.

Cole sent in two more linemen, knowing what was coming. He knew if Honobia tried to pass, it would be an easy score but doubted that would happen.

The second-team fullback was no slouch but at 180 pounds, weighed fifty pounds less than his teammate.

As the Lions came to the line, Lucky edged closer, almost as close as the linebackers. Honobia was in the I-formation again. The quarterback barked the signals and finally took the snap, spun around and handed the ball to the tailback, coming right at Happy.

Petros’ line fired off low and hard, covering up every offensive lineman. Happy saw the play coming his way and reacted the only way he knew how.

He fired ahead and dove over the line, flying into the fullback and knocking him down. The collision carried back into the tailback and almost knocked him down. The tailback regained his balance and sidestepped the pile in front of him and cut back to the left.

Derwin sliced through a small gap after seeing the tailback change directions. He closed hard on the tailback, forcing him to go further outside.

He reached out, trying to get hold of anything but could not grab the tailback. The tailback was sprinting to the outside and appeared to have plenty of room to run. He expected to pick up the first down and a lot more.

But just as he got close to the line, there was a blur coming from the defense. It was Lucky. He had been on the other side, fought off a block, ran around a pile and finally saw his chance. His eyes never left the tailback.

Lucky knew where the tailback was going and was determined not to let him get there. He came scorching through the opening, taking an angle to intercept the running back. The tailback never saw Lucky until getting hit hard enough in the legs to send him flying through the air and land face first in the mud.

The ball was marked, two yards short of the line of scrimmage.

Petros’ defenders congratulated Lucky, pounding on him like he was a rag doll. They knew that play kept their hopes alive.

The tailback was slow to rise, tired from the long game and shaken from the hit. He looked around to see what hit him, but the Panthers were already lining up for the punt.

Cole was not sure Honobia would punt, even though the Lions were in their own territory and now needed three yards to get a first down.

The Lions used as much time as possible, letting the clock tick away. Honobia had huddled and broke it slowly, coming out in a punt formation. The punter watched the play clock, letting it go all the way down to two seconds before calling for the snap.

The snap was perfect and the punter got the kick off. It was a low line drive that sailed over Kenneth’s head and rolled all the way back to Petros’ 19.

Kenneth retreated back and picked up the ball and started making his way down the field. Despite the big kick, Honobia had good coverage on the punt and brought him down on the 31.

There were now less than three minutes to go. The Panthers were 69 yards away from a trip to the state championship.

The excitement was building. Students at East Central had heard the roars all afternoon from the football field and came to see what was happening. They were rewarded with a game that was now more thrilling than anything ECU had offered this past season.

For everybody but the players on the field, it was nerve wracking. And getting worse every second. There was a feeling on the Petros side that something good was going to happen.

Honobia had seldom been pressured in its 43-game winning streak, but was now. Their players, coaches and fans had forgotten what it was like to lose and didn’t want to find out.

Cole took his son aside to give some advice before the drive started.

“You’ve gotta keep your cool,” he stated. “I know you’re just a sophomore, but you’re the leader out there. This is it. This is what you’ve been waiting for your whole life.”

Lucky nodded and smiled at his father. Out on the field, the rest of the offense was huddled, waiting for their quarterback to join them. He sprinted out on the field and entered the huddle, as calm as he would be reading a book.

“Okay, this is our time,” he told them. “We’re going to take this all the way. You guys give me some time and let’s go get a touchdown.”

The Panthers came out in a spread with Lucky in the shotgun. He looked over the defense, took the snap and rolled to his right. He saw Andy break open on an out route and threw a bullet that was caught just before he stepped out-of-bounds to stop the clock. The play was good for seven yards. Andy might have been able to pick up more but didn’t want to risk getting tackled as the clock would keep going unless he picked up a first down.

Petros was at its own 38. The Panthers huddled and Lucky called two plays, just in case the defense lined up in a different way so he could change the play.

He hurried his team to the line, reading the defense and looking for any signs of a blitz. Lucky did not see anything out of the ordinary and called for the ball. The snap was low but he caught it and while raising up, saw a blitz coming from his right.

Lucky rolled away from the blitz and saw Skip break open across the middle. Lucky lobbed a pass to him, hitting him going full speed across the middle. Skip grabbed the pass and made it to the 46 before getting tackled.

It was good for a first down and Petros lined up, waiting for the officials to mark the ball. Lucky called an audible, going for a play he expected to catch the Lions off guard.

Lucky took the snap and sprinted to his right with Seth trailing behind. Cole nearly swallowed his tongue when he saw his team running an option. But he also knew it was not a play Honobia expected to see in this situation.

The defensive end was left trying to decide which player to go after, knowing he had little help. He chose to go after Lucky, hoping one of his teammates could get the pitch back.

Lucky waited until the last second and pitched the ball back to Seth. The pitch was a little behind him and Seth had to slow down just a little. When he looked ahead, Seth saw there was plenty of room to run and sped into the secondary before the Lions recovered and brought him down at Honobia’s 40.

The clock was stopped but would restart after the chains were in place. Lucky had his team on the line again and called another play. Honobia was now changing its defense, hoping to bottle up the Panthers.

This time, Lucky didn’t see the blitz coming and paid the price. The Lions overloaded one side and came hard. The linebacker on Lucky’s backside broke free and came roaring into the backfield. It was the kind of opportunity defensive players love, a quarterback dead ahead with no warning he is about to get demolished and no blocker anywhere nearby.

Lucky never saw or felt the hit coming. He was starting to throw the ball to Harry when it felt like somebody ran over him with a semi-truck.

It was the most pain he ever felt. His back and ribs felt like they were knocked out of whack and let the body’s owner know it.

The ball had floated free as he was hit but the officials called it an incomplete pass.

Lucky tried to get up but had a hard time. He looked up and saw the defense celebrating the hit. His teammates gathered around their fallen quarterback, all feeling bad about allowing him to get hit like that.

Lucky grabbed hold of Seth, trying to pull himself up but quickly figured out that would not work. There was something wrong and his body was not responding like it should.

Cole and Doc Hardy started out on the field. Cole could tell from the force of the hit that it was probably not good, hoping it was only a bruise and that his son had gotten the wind knocked out of him.

As they arrived, Lucky was still trying to get up. He didn’t care what was wrong, there was no way the rest of the game would go on without him.

“Just calm down,” Cole directed, realizing his son trying to get up reminded him of a pony trying to rise for the first time. “There’s no reason to hurry.”

“I gotta get up,” Lucky stated, gritting his teeth. “They’re not going to put me out of this game.”

Doc Hardy kneeled down beside Lucky and began examining him. Everywhere he touched on the back and ribs, Lucky winced.

“It doesn’t feel like anything is broken,” the doctor advised.

“I’m fine,” Lucky protested, knowing that wasn’t the truth. But he would be if his legs supported him enough to let him stand.

“Can you get up?” Cole asked.

“Yes sir,” Lucky answered.

Cole reached down and helped his son stand, not liking the way Lucky reacted. Cole had hurt his ribs before, even broke two, and knew hurt ribs and a bruised back were not easy to handle.

As they slowly walked to the sidelines, Lucky had one arm around his father, the other held tightly against his side. Lucky glanced at the clock, seeing there was less than two minutes left, his team still forty yards away from the winning score.

Gary would have to go in at quarterback, at least for one play. He was throwing some passes on the sideline after seeing Lucky go down. In between the throws, he looked out at Lucky, hoping his teammate would make some kind of miraculous recovery and get back on the field.

Cole took as much time as possible before the officials came over to speed him up. Lucky was trying to stretch and move, but was having trouble. Doc Hardy raised his shirt and was looking for damage.

Cole walked over to Gary and put his arm around him.

“You ready to go?” asked Cole.

“I hope,” Gary responded, then threw a duck to Harry.

“Don’t hope,” his coach replied. “You gotta know you can do it. We’re all behind you.”

Gary put on his helmet and fastened the straps. As a child he always wanted to rescue his team in a big game and now seemed to have the chance.

After the way he struggled earlier in the year, Gary was determined to show what he was made of. He was smart enough to realize Lucky was a better quarterback and able to do things he couldn’t. But Gary also knew he had some ability, even if nobody else knew.

As he jogged out on the field, the roar from the crowd was something Gary would never forget. Gary acted like he had not heard it and that it didn’t mean anything, but it did. His teammates were waiting for him in the huddle, patting him on the back.

“You can do it,” said Skip as other heads in the huddle nodded in agreement.

Gary was so choked up and excited he could barely call the play. He finally managed to get the play out. While walking to the line, Harry jogged by him and patted him on the shoulder.

“This is your time,” he mentioned. “Let’s go score and carry you off the field on our shoulders.”

Gary smiled and nodded, knowing there was a lot of work to do before they reached that point and Honobia would probably not agree with that plan.

Petros lined up in a spread formation with Gary under center. He had never gotten comfortable with the shotgun and preferred taking the snap before dropping back.

He surveyed the defense and called out the signals. As the ball was snapped, he dropped back. Everything seemed to be going in fast forward. He looked for Harry, but could not find him. None of the other receivers were open, either.

Gary rolled to his right, looking for somebody to get open. Nobody broke free. He saw an opening and tucked the ball away and took off.

It caught the Lions off guard and they had trouble responding. Gary got to the sidelines and ran to the Honobia 27 before stepping out of bounds to stop the clock.

His teammates rushed over to greet him and congratulate him. Gary looked to the sidelines to see if Lucky was coming in to replace him but could not see his teammate.

Gary jogged back to the huddle, a strange feeling coming over him, one that told him he could get his team in the end zone. He didn’t know how and it didn’t matter what Honobia threw at him. He would lead his team into the end zone.

He got the call and relayed it to his teammates. Gary had a different attitude and walk as he came to the line. Gone was the unsure look so many had seen in him, replaced by one that bordered on cockiness.

“What’s up with him?” Stub asked Ichabod.

“What’re you talking about?” Ichabod asked.

“Look at Gary,” he directed, pointing out on the field. “He’s acting different.”

Ichabod disregarded his fellow coach and turned his attention back to the field.

The linebacker to his right was edging closer to the line, trying to distract Gary.

“You got lucky that time,” the linebacker mouthed. “We’ll get you this time and hurt you worse than the other quarterback.”

Gary stood up and glared at the linebacker.

“You can’t hit what you can’t touch,” Gary replied.

He lost interest in the linebacker and started calling signals, trying to decide what the defense would do. He expected a blitz from the backside. He saw the linebacker on that side edging forward and Gary turned around to make sure Seth saw it.

Gary wished Happy or Derwin was in at running back just to help with the blocking, knowing neither were a threat with the ball like Seth.

He took the snap and rolled to his right and lobbed a pass toward the sideline, hitting Skip on an out route. It was an ugly pass, but an effective one. It led Skip perfectly. He caught the pass and cut upfield, reaching the 18 before getting knocked out of bounds.

The Panthers huddled again and Gary gave his instructions. Cole thought this play would catch the Lions off guard and was the main reason Seth was in at running back.

Petros hurried to the line. All the receivers were scattered wide, leaving Gary and Seth alone in the backfield. Gary got the snap and dropped back, watching all the receivers run go routes. Honobia was coming with another blitz, this time from the right.

It looked like a passing play until Gary slipped the ball to Seth while dropping back past him. It was a draw play and caught the Lions unprepared.

Seth stepped through the onrushing line and burst free. The other inside linebacker dove at him but Seth easily avoided the tackle and sprinted toward the end zone, both arms protecting the ball. He made it to the 5 before one of the safeties brought him down.

Cole had the offense call time and come to the sidelines. He looked at the clock, seeing there was still over a minute left. The Panthers still had two timeouts. Cole had doubts his offense could line up in a regular offense and run straight at the Lions with any success so he decided to stay in the spread, mainly to keep the defense stretched out all over the field. Cole relayed the call, stressing the importance of good blocking.

“It’s right there for us, guys,” Cole directed. “Go get it.”

The Panthers jogged back out on the field, forming a huddle as Honobia’s defense had not returned to the field.

Gary waited until the defense was back on the field and lined up before breaking the huddle. Honobia was not expecting this formation and the defense had to adjust quickly.

The Panthers lined up and got the play off quickly. Gary turned and handed back to Skip, who had traded places with Seth. Skip squirted through a small hole, picking up two yards. He nearly scored and would have except one of the Lions grabbed him by the shirt and would not let go.

Petros called its second timeout. This time Gary came to the sidelines by himself. He saw Lucky on the bench, obviously in a lot of pain. Gary knew Lucky was out now and would not come back. It was Gary’s team to lead to victory or defeat.

The Panthers only had one timeout left. He sent Happy in to take Seth’s place, hoping the Honobia coaches did not notice the change.

Cole wanted to surprise the Lions again and knew the best way to do that was to hit them in a way they did not expect. The Panthers were going to load up in the wishbone and hammer right at the defense. Gary smiled as his coach called the play and formation. If it surprised him, Honobia would certainly not expect it.

Petros broke the huddle and came to the line quickly, hoping to get the play off before the Lions adjusted. The Panthers had three running backs in the backfield with Gary and two tight ends lined up outside the tackles.

It did surprise Honobia. Gary got the ball snapped while the Lions were adjusting. Skip got the call, running behind D.J. and Happy.

There was only a small gap, even after his two fellow running backs blasted away. Skip lowered his helmet and plowed ahead. His momentum carried him down to the 1-yard line before the Lions shoved him back.

Cole called his final timeout. The Panthers faced third-and-goal from the 1 with 50 seconds remaining.

If the Panthers ran the ball again and did not score, they would have to hurry to get the pile cleaned up and run the play.

Cole didn’t really like to pass this deep in an opponent’s territory and felt confident the Panthers could get off another play, even if this one didn’t work so he decided to go with another running play.

Gary received the call and jogged back out on the field to relay the call to his teammates. Petros came to the line as fans on both sides stood, making a huge roar. The rain had lightened and was now only a light mist. Fog was starting to descend on the field, making it difficult to see from one side of the field to the other.

This old field had been the host of many great games over the year, high school and college. But the tension existing at this moment was as great as ever.

Gary came strolling to the line, refusing to let the nerves get to him. If he came through, it would be great and unexpected. But if his team came up short, very few people expected it anyway, especially after Lucky had to leave the game.

He barked the signals loudly, looking over the defense. He took the snap, faked a handoff to Happy, then spun around and handed the ball to D.J. He plowed forward into a wall of humanity, two lines facing each other and refusing to give up any ground.

This time, Honobia won, not giving up an inch. The Lions pushed back hard, forcing D.J. to angle away since there was no hole. All D.J. found was more Honobia defenders and he was tackled before getting back to the line.

The seconds were ticking away quickly. Petros’ players were trying to untangle from the piles of bodies, finding it difficult when the opponent would not move and actually held on to arms or legs to keep them down.

The official were trying to get the bodies free so another play could be run. Three Honobia players were on top of D.J., refusing to move.

The time was under fifteen seconds and a feeling of desperation was forming on the Petros side. As the clock continued to count down, the referee finally realized this was not right. He was tired of the stalling and blew his whistle and waved his arms to stop the clock.

Cole was going ballistic on the sideline before the officials finally made the correct decision.

Honobia’s sidelines was not thrilled with the call and protested, knowing it would do little good.

The bodies were finally freed and the Panthers lined up quickly, knowing the clock would start as soon as the ball was placed on the ground.

Gary called a play at the line, not having time to get one from the bench.

As soon as the umpire placed the ball on the ground and stepped back, the referee blew his whistle and waved his arm. The clock started right as the ball was snapped. It was fourth down, just over a yard to go and both teams’ season rested on this play. One team would advance to the state finals the following week, the other would hand in the equipment.

Gary got the snap cleanly and faked the dive to D.J. and went down the line, reading the defensive end. Seeing the end was going after Skip, Gary ran past the tackle, then cut back inside. He felt the arms reaching for him, while he saw a little gap toward the end zone, the white line calling for him.

One of the linebackers hit him from the side, pushing Gary farther to the side. He refused to be brought down, his legs still churning away. Gary lowered his head and put both arms around the ball, determined not to let the pigskin escape his grasp.

Another defender blasted into him from the opposite direction, forcing him to spin away. It was happening so quick, Gary did not think, letting everything happen naturally. Honobia’s safety was coming fast and flung himself toward the Petros quarterback.

Because Gary had spun, the safety only delivered a glancing blow. Somebody was trying to grab his leg but Gary wrestled free and dove for the line waiting before him.

He fully expected some defender to come out of nowhere and grab him, throwing his body back from where it came. As Gary waited for the hit, he finally realized it was not coming. The line was below him and then gone, and the reality hit.

He did not even have to look to the officials for confirmation. Gary knew he scored. His body finally came to earth well past the final mark. All he could do was lie on his back, the ball held to the heavens, a scream of joy filling the air.

While Gary did not need to look toward the officials to find out if he scored, everybody else did. When the line judge and umpire both raised their arms, it set off pandemonium on the Petros side, everybody jumping up and down, hugging anybody within reach.

Cole jumped up one time then caught himself. He knew the score was tied at 20 and this game was not won yet. The Panthers still had to convert the extra point and Cole knew Honobia would do everything possible to thwart Jeremy’s kick.

The players were all running around like chickens with their heads cut off. Cole and the other coaches tried to calm their players and get some order established. Cole knew how the players felt and would like to be running around also.

And he planned to do just that, but only after and if Jeremy’s kick was good.

The players who needed to be on the field gradually made it to the huddle while the other players came to the sidelines, getting mobbed by their teammates.

As Petros lined up for the kick, Honobia called time at the last second, trying to put extra pressure on Jeremy. Cole knew the Lions could call two more timeouts if they chose, but it would not bother his kicker.

Jeremy was back from the huddle, practicing his footsteps. He continued to loosen up, not even acknowledging the Honobia side, where the chant of “Block that kick!” was coming.

None of the other players bothered Jeremy, knowing he was totally focused. The timeout was over and the Honobia players came back on the field. Cole had left his guys out on the field, not needing to tell them anything else. They all knew what the situation was without his help.

It was really simple. Have a good snap and hold, don’t let any of the Lions through the line, then kick the ball between the uprights.

The Panthers jogged up to the line. Two of the Lions stood over Petros’ center, Danny Wall, letting him know that as soon as the ball was snapped, they planned to hit him with everything they could.

Danny was not worried. He was used to getting hit like that on every extra point. Repeated blows like this might shorten his height a bit, but was not going to make him mess up this snap.

Harry called the signals and ordered the snap. The snap was perfect. Harry caught the ball and set it down on the tee, turning it at the same time so the laces faced the other way.

Jeremy slowly approached the ball, looking at the spot where his foot would meet the ball. His drew back his foot and let it go, a smooth movement like he had done so many times before. This time he kept his footing.

The Lions were trying to get through the line and into the backfield to block the kick but none of the Panthers broke down.

Jeremy’s kick was hit perfectly. He knew that as soon as his foot blasted into the ball. Since there was not a second thud to indicate the ball made contact with another person, Jeremy raised his arms into the air, looked for and found the ball as it sailed straight and true.

Harry jumped up, grabbing Jeremy. The other Panthers on the field waited to see how the officials reacted since they had not picked up the flight of the ball. Their teammates on the sidelines did not have to wait since they saw the ball sail through the uprights.

Cole looked up at the clock and saw a bunch of zeros in the time section. He turned looking to find anybody to hug and celebrate with and saw everybody had already ran out on the field. The only person he saw was Lucky sitting on the bench, smiling despite the pain.

Lucky looked up to see his father, smiling like his dad had not in years.

“We did it,” Cole yelled. “We’re going to Stillwater!”

Lucky could only nod, wishing he felt good enough to join the celebration. Cole walked over and hugged his youngest son.

“We wouldn’t be here without you,” Cole told him.

“No, we wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you,” Lucky countered, relishing the moment even though his ribs and back felt like they were about to rip apart.

Cole hugged his son one last time, making sure he did not get anywhere near the ribs, then turned and started walking toward the middle of the field.

Lucky sat back down, burying his head in his hands and prayed, thanking God for this moment and for all He had done.

A hand was on his back. He turned to see who it was and saw Gabby, tears running down her cheeks.

“We beat them!,” she shouted, then added, “I can’t believe we won.”

Lucky stood slowly and put his arms around her.

“This is what we’ve been working for,” he said.

She pulled back from him.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’ll be fine,” Lucky answered, braving a smile despite the pain.

They started walking toward the center of the field, joining what looked like everybody who lived in Petros. The feeling was hard to describe. At least for those few moments, all was right with the world. Even people who had not talked for years, wound up hugging each other.

Cole looked for the Honobia coaches, but they had left as soon as the game was over, actually sprinting for the dressing room. It wasn’t a very classy move, one Cole would never repeat. While he did not appreciate it, that certainly would not remove any of his joy.

There had been times like this before, but none were sweeter. On the other times, he expected it. Cole had no idea this team could get to this level. It just made it better, especially to see the joy for everybody from Petros.

The smiles, laughter and yells made Cole want to dance and shout. He looked into the sky and closed his eyes, blocking out the noise for a brief time.

“I owe you another one,” he stated. “Thanks for this.”

His players started coming by, hugging him and he congratulated them back. Many of his former players also filed by, also congratulating Cole and his players.

He saw old players who had been gone for years, enjoying seeing them almost as much as winning the game. Tatum came by to congratulate his old coach and Cole saw the tears in his eyes. He might be residing in Big Cedar now, but a part of him was still a Petros Panther.

Cole stood away from the celebration, just enjoying the moment. Other coaches he knew came by and congratulated him, some thanking him for showing Honobia what it felt like to lose.

He saw her walking slowly toward him, a black jacket that was too large seeming to swallow her body. She had a black baseball hat with a white “P” on the front pulled down a little too far, making it hard to see her eyes.

But the smile was plainly evident. Cole gave her a little wave and she returned the gesture. He started walking toward her and she quickened her pace.

“I can’t believe this,” she declared. “I’ve never been this excited.”

“It feels great, doesn’t it?” Cole asked, putting his arms around her and pulling her close.

“Aren’t you worried what people will say?”

He pulled back and looked her in the eyes, a smile still stretched across her face.

“I really don’t care,” he answered, then kissed her, shocking her. Cole was not the type to share kisses and everybody was staring at him.

“Whoa,” she responded, smiling and leaning toward him. “That’s a public display of affection there, Coach.”

“Yeah, it is, Doctor.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder, wishing this could last forever. Lucky and Gabby were standing off to the side of the celebration, arms linked together.

“How’s Lucky?” she asked.

“Sore and getting sorer,” Cole replied.

“Does Doctor Hardy think anything’s broke?”

“No, but I’d appreciate it if you could give a second opinion.”

“It’ll cost you,” she mentioned.

“How much?”

“A night out.”

“That’s a pretty costly examination,” Cole countered. “But I guess it’s worth it.”

Chapter 53