Chapter 40

As the officials gave the okay to get the game started, the noise level actually rose as the kicker approached the ball and put his foot into it, sending the ball sailing high down the field.

It was a long kick, benefiting from the breeze blowing from behind. The ball came to rest in Kenneth’s arms at the 5. He started up the middle of the field, cut to the right and was knocked down just outside the 20.

The offense took the field with Gary starting at quarterback since Lucky missed practice. The Panthers came out in the veer and tried to catch the Spiders off-guard with a play-action pass.

Gary faked the dive to Skip, took a couple of steps down the line then dropped back but never got the chance to get rid of the ball as the Spiders broke through the line and sacked him five-yards deep in the backfield.

Cole regretted the call as the momentum quickly went away. Skip got the ball on second down on a crossbuck, but only picked up two yards. It was now third-and-long, a position Cole did not want his offense in, especially on the first drive.

He called a draw with D.J. carrying it up the middle. He spun free of one tackler but only picked up three yards before the Spiders swarmed over him.

Cole saw Stub walking toward him, a smile on that plump face.

“Still got that feeling?” Stub asked.

Cole wanted to fire something back but held it in.

“Yep,” he answered, walking away.

Jeremy’s punt was almost blocked as the Spiders loaded up on one side and broke through. He sensed the pressure and rushed the punt, paying the price as the ball went off the side of his foot.

The punt was shanked, one that left Summerfield with the ball on Petros’ 41, giving the Spiders great field position.

It was the first chance to try and stop the onslaught of Summerfield’s vaunted offense. The Spiders completed passes on the first two plays to move down to the 12. On the third play of the drive, the quarterback faked a handoff, and lobbed a pass over the middle to the tight end, who had broken free. He hauled in the pass and could have walked in for the score.

The Panthers were stunned, never expecting to see this and be behind by a touchdown less than three minutes into the game.

Ichabod was steamed. He stood almost fifteen yards out on the field, waiting for the defense to come off the field after the PAT. But instead of chewing out the players, he encouraged them and started showing them how they messed up their coverage.

“We’ll be okay,” he assured the defense. “Nobody’s hurt. We just have to make sure we follow our assignments.”

He walked away from the players, patting them on the shoulders and doing everything possible to keep them from getting down.

Cole and Stub joined Ichabod in encouraging the players. Ichabod pulled Cole aside.

“We need to get Lucky in there,” he mentioned, knowing that was one of the main reasons for the score.

Cole nodded.

“Do it,” he directed.

With the Panthers trailing 7-0, the two teams lined up for another kick.

It was another long kick, this time bouncing once and rolling into the end zone for a touchback.

Petros took over on its 20.

As the offense took the field, Cole saw Gary staring at him, not sure if he was still in at quarterback. Cole wanted to give Gary one more chance at quarterback before making a change, hoping it was not necessary. He told the senior to go in, not liking the look on his quarterback’s face.

The Panthers came out in the shotgun, trying to confuse the Spiders. Gary threw a pass on first down that was knocked down and nearly intercepted. He tried a long pass on second down. Nobody was open but he let it fly anyway, hoping for a big play. It was one of the ugliest passes ever seen in a football game, a fluttering duck that got caught up in the wind and luckily for the Panthers, drifted out-of-bounds before it was intercepted.

“That sure was ugly,” Stub commented.

Gary ran a draw on third down to Skip, netting only two yards.

The Spiders came after the punt again. The Panthers were ready this time and Jeremy had plenty of time, booting a long kick that was killed at the Summerfield 33.

Ichabod sent Lucky out on the field, hoping to strengthen the pass defense.

The Spiders again spread receivers all over the field. They ran an option on first down, fooling the Panthers badly as the play was good for 12 yards before Ty Williams was brought down. A short pass on second down turned into a big play as the receiver spun away from Gary, broke a tackle by D.J. and gained fifteen yards before Skip got him.

Summerfield’s quarterback, Shane Penny, then faked a handoff to Williams and dropped back to pass again, letting go with a long pass that dropped into the hands of his favorite receiver deep in the end zone, five yards behind any Petros player.

The kick was good again, giving the Spiders a 14-0 lead over the Panthers.

Petros’ players were stunned as they came to the sidelines, looking dazed and confused.

“We’ve gotta do something fast,” suggested Stub.

“We will,” Cole advised.

He walked to where Gary was standing, getting a drink.

“We’re gonna give Lynn a shot at quarterback and see if he can go,” Cole advised.

“Who?” Gary asked.

“Lucky,” Cole responded, forgetting that most people did not know his youngest son’s name.

Gary nodded, both expecting and in a way hoping his coach would say that. He wanted to play and succeed badly, but knew it was better for the team if Lucky was in at quarterback.

Lucky stood nearby and tried to act like he had not seen this when his father approached him.

“You good to go?” Cole asked.

“”Finer than Caroliner,” Lucky responded.

“What?”

“Nothing, I’m ready. Dad, we need to pound on them some, get away from the finesse.”

Cole nodded and started to walk away, then stopped.

“Can you take a snap?” he asked.

“I’ll manage.”

The kickoff bounced into the end zone again for a touchback, leaving the Panthers starting on the 20 again.

When the Panthers’ crowd saw Lucky taking the field, it was the first sign of enthusiasm since the first Summerfield score.

Happy trailed behind Lucky coming out on the field, the one player whose intensity rivaled Derwin.

The Panthers lined up in the wishbone with receivers spread out to both sides. There was no doubt what the Panthers would do, the big question if the Spiders could stop them.

D.J. got the ball on a blast behind Happy and Skip, picking up four yards. The Panthers went with the same play the other way. Happy nearly ripped one of the linebacker’s heads off with a smashing block, clearing the way for Skip to gain an additional four yards.

The snaps did hurt Lucky’s wrist, of course, but there was nothing he could do about it except gut it out.

Cole called the first option. The Spiders went for the fake to Happy as D.J. cleared out the end, giving Lucky some room outside. He took advantage, picking up 12 yards as the Spiders covered the dive back and the other running back but the end responsible for Lucky was flat on his back, courtesy of D.J.

A crossbuck to D.J. confused the Spiders and was good for six yards. On second and short and with all eleven defenders moving up toward the line, Cole decided to loosen Summerfield up.

He sent in a play-action pass, mainly to make the Spiders respect the pass. Lucky faked the handoff to Skip, dropped back and hit Andy on a crossing route for a big gain.

Happy got his first carry on the next play and blasted through a small hole, picking up a couple of extra yards by dragging a pair of Summerfield defenders.

An option to the left side tested Lucky if he could pitch with his injured wrist wrapped. He passed the test fine. It wasn’t the prettiest pitch, but it worked as D.J. took the lateral and picked up good yardage.

With all the attention Summerfield’s offense had gotten through the year, the defense was not far behind, holding opponents to less than 10 points a game.

The defense had a chip on its shoulder, never feeling like they received enough attention for the Spiders’ success.

Now the Spiders were getting pounded and did not like it, not used to having anybody drive the field like this.

Summerfield made some changes but the Panthers continued steadily down the field. Petros’ line gained more confidence every play and delivered a beating to the Spiders, hitting with a ferocity not seen in some time.

Once the ball reached Summerfield’s 5, Happy got the call over the right side. There was not much room, only a small gap, but he lowered his head and pounded forward. One Summerfield player tried to hold on but was taken for a ride into the end zone.

The Panthers celebrated the score, the first good thing they had experienced this night. Jeremy’s kick was good, cutting the lead in half and the Panthers were back in the game.

Now, Petros had to do something on defense or the offense’s drive would be meaningless.

Lloyd went around to the players on defense and reminded them to watch Summerfield’s quarterback as he tipped off the play on whether it was a run or pass by the way he stood while taking the snap. That was what Lloyd had spotted earlier in the week and passed on to the coaches and the players. The Panthers had not been paying attention, too excited and rattled early in the game.

Ichabod got the defense around him and also reminded them to look at the quarterback. He knew it would be hard for the defense to see how the quarterback’s feet were aligned, so he told them to check with the bench if they could not tell and the coaches would pass on the information.

Jeremy’s kick was returned to the 25. Summerfield’s offense took the field, again spreading out players all over the field. The defensive players looked to the sideline and got the signal from Lloyd.

It was really fairly simple and Lloyd was surprised nobody had picked it up before. If the quarterback’s feet were lined up next to each other in a normal stance, it was a run. But if his right foot was behind the left, a pass was coming.

Lloyd signaled the play would be a run and the defense adjusted. He and the other coaches had stressed for the players not to holler if it was a run or a pass, not wanting the Summerfield coaches to realize what was happening.

The Panthers also had to make sure they did not cheat too much or the quarterback could change the play and that would be a problem. Plus, there was always the possibility the quarterback would line up wrong and if that happened, the Panthers would be burned. So they still had to be careful, but could be a little more aggressive.

On first down, it was a simple handoff to Ty Williams, who was drilled in the backfield by a pair of Panthers led by Derwin.

Summerfield’s players were almost stunned to see one of their plays stopped after the early success and the way the Spiders had been so effective throughout the year. They did not have great plays on every down, but the Spiders were certainly not used to getting thrown for a loss.

The Panthers knew a pass was coming on second down and had everybody covered, forcing the quarterback to throw the ball away.

The Panthers blitzed on third down. Derwin broke free in a gap between the guard and tackle, plunged free and hit the quarterback before he scrambled or threw the ball away.

Petros’ defense celebrated the stop, as did the players on the sidelines and the fans. They had proved the Spiders were mortal and could be stopped.

Summerfield’s quarterback slammed the ball down and made his way to the sidelines, expecting and getting chewed out by the coaches. Lucky watched Penny get blistered by his head coach and was glad his coaches did not act this way for failing to score on one series.

The punt was a good one, downed on Petros’ 37.

The Panthers again went to the ground, picking up good yardage on the first two plays, setting up third and short. But on third down, Lucky dropped the snap and had to fall on the ball, forcing the Panthers to punt.

Jeremy’s punt was one of his best of the season, a long spiral that sailed way over the returner’s head. The Summerfield player retreated back to field the punt and was tackled immediately by Harry at the 18.

As the offense lined up, the Panthers knew a pass was coming, but could not stop it this time. Petros had all the receivers covered, but a perfect pass is almost impossible to stop and that was the case this time as the quarterback hit one of the wideouts on a deep post, good for 33 yards.

While Petros failed to put pressure on the quarterback on first down, the next play was a different story.

The Panthers’ defensive line collapsed the pocket quickly, forcing the quarterback to take off. He had decent speed, but was chased down and blasted by a hard tackle by Derwin, who received a warning from the official, not believing it was necessary to throw the opponent down with that much force.

The play was right in front of the Panthers’ bench and it sent Petros’ side into a frenzy.

For once, the Summerfield quarterback had nothing to say. He was rattled and struggled to his feet.

Petros knew a running play was coming next and they nailed the back behind the line, forcing third-and-long.

The first quarter ended, sending both teams to the bench as they swapped ends.

On third down, Ichabod blitzed. Skip came flying in from deep in the secondary. He paused just long enough for a hole to develop and flew through it.

The Spiders were in the shotgun and Skip caught the quarterback just as the pass was released, his helmet striking Penny square in the chest, causing the pass to flutter to the ground a few yards away. Penny was again slow to get up, now with a headache and a sore chest.

The Panthers went after the punt, trying to block it with ten players. Harry almost blocked the punt, barely missing it but forcing the punter to hurry. It was not a thing of beauty, only going 15 yards and giving Petros good field position.

Cole went with the usual split-back formation this time. When a dive play is ran correctly, the back should be able to hit the hole quickly and dart through a small gap between the guard and tackle. It is good for the blockers as they only have to stall the defensive linemen for a short period, making it easier than when they had to keep a linemen blocked for several seconds for a play to succeed.

The Spiders’ line was much bigger than the Panthers’ front. But they were also slower, not the type that has a lot of success against a quick-hitting attack.

Skip got the call on first down, picking up five yards. D.J. followed with a dive to the other side, adding four more yards.

The Panthers had third-and-short. Lucky faked the dive to D.J. and followed behind for a good gain to give his team a first down. Petros took its time between plays, wanting to keep the ball away from the Spiders for as long as possible, and also to try and wear out a Summerfield defense not used to seeing this much action.

Lucky got outside on an option, spun away from a cornerback and picked up 11 yards and another first down.

Summerfield’s defense was tiring and frustrated, not used to this kind of attack or playing this much.

It hurt Lucky to take the snap, but not nearly enough to put him out of the game. He was to the point now that it wasn’t even a concern.

Cole sent in a crossbuck to D.J. good for four yards. Skip followed by darting through a small hole for three yards, leaving the Panthers facing third-and-three.

Summerfield was tired of giving up yardage on the dives and the tackles started edging out, leaving the middle open. The middle linebacker was still there, of course, in the 4-3, but was at least five yards deep.

It was a good time to run a quarterback sneak and Lucky decided to take advantage. He called an audible at the line, making sure everybody knew what was coming, especially the center, Danny Wall, so he would take out the linebacker. Lucky would follow and go the opposite way the linebacker went.

It was an easy decision on which way to go as Danny knocked the linebacker on his back, giving Lucky plenty of room to run. He dodged one safety, cut back outside and the race was on, Lucky against the strong safety, one of the best players in the district.

The Summerfield defender was fast and had the angle on Lucky, but the Petros quarterback was not exactly slow and seldom caught from behind.

The safety made up ground quickly, but was running out of time. Lucky waited until he saw the defensive back and let him get within a few yards before turning the speed up a notch, running away and leaving the Spider nothing but air to tackle.

Lucky was all alone as he crossed into the end zone, dropped the ball and jogged back toward the sidelines, now getting mobbed by his teammates. Inside, every nerve in his body was going crazy, but outside, he showed little emotion, acting like it was not that big of a deal. He had scored many touchdowns before, of course, and planned to score many more. But Lucky knew this was a big one.

His teammates hit him harder than any of the Spiders as he made it to the sidelines. Lucky looked up and saw his father smiling at him, then gave him a thumbs-up gesture. It was pure pandemonium up in the stands with everybody jumping up and down, screaming and hugging each other.

The Panthers had now fought back to pull within one point of the stunned Spiders. As Lucky looked up into the crowd, the sight of the Petros fans celebrating was one he would never forget.

Since they were only behind by one now, all the Panthers had to do was nail the PAT and the game would be tied. But as Jeremy’s left foot planted on the conversion kick, he slipped. Jeremy was still able to get the kick off, but the ball never got above five-feet high, allowing the Spiders to block the kick and preserve the lead.

The Panthers were disappointed the kick had failed, of course, but did not let it dampen their enthusiasm.

Lucky looked across the field and saw the coaches and players having heated debates. The Spiders were used to being up by thirty points at this stage of the game and were not reacting well to the tight game. The Summerfield coaches were hollering loud enough to be heard across the field.

The Spiders seemed to be motivated by the coaches and came out hitting harder, only to be matched in intensity by the Panthers. Every block and tackle was delivered with a little extra effort, the players using their bodies as weapons in an attempt to deliver pain to the opponent.

The hits were clean for the most part, at least by the Panthers, although some of the hits by the Spiders could be considered late, if not dirty. Players on both sides had to take temporary stints on the bench to get revived from the hits, if for no other reason than to let the cobwebs clear up.

It had the intensity of a boxing match between two brawlers who simple did not like each other. Both teams stood toe-to-toe, taking everything the opponent gave and delivering back just as hard.

Players from both teams tried to deliver knockout blows with each hit. As the second quarter wore on, the hitting grew more intense, so hard the people in the stands wondered how anybody could remain standing.

The first half ended and both teams slowly made the way to the locker rooms to regroup. Neither of the teams or their coaches were satisfied. Cole was not happy his guys were behind and wondered how to generate points in the second half with the Spiders’ defense stiffening up.

Summerfield’s coach was also disappointed and let his players have it. Mabry expected a rout and was smart enough to know the longer the Panthers stayed in the game, the harder it would be to beat them. The Spiders finally realized all the trash talking did nothing but motivate the Panthers and was not intimidating the opponents.

Cole let everybody get a drink and calm down. There were not really any adjustments that needed to be made. The effort was certainly there and the players were doing what needed to be done. They just needed to keep it up.

“That was a good first half,” Cole declared. “But not good enough. We’ve got to continue pounding away at them until they can’t take it anymore. We’re used to tight games, they aren’t.

“It doesn’t bother us. We know what it takes to pull out a close game in the fourth quarter. They don’t have a clue. Summerfield expected to have its reserves in and the starters sitting on the sidelines flirting with their ugly cheerleaders by now.”

The players looked at each other, making sure they had correctly heard their coach, then smiled.

Cole slowed for a second, wishing he had not made the “ugly cheerleader” comment. Half the boys were nursing some type of injury, but he knew they would play unless there was a bone breaking the skin.

“This is our night,” he continued. “We’re gonna shock everybody. Don’t be satisfied with playing these guys close. Close doesn’t count in football. You guys know that. A moral victory still leaves you with a loss. I don’t want to wear you guys out by saying this, but don’t be afraid to succeed.”

Cole got a drink and started walking around the room, placing his hands on each of the players while walking by.

“You guys don’t know this, hardly anybody does,” Cole continued. “But after the way the baseball season ended last year, I was ready to quit coaching. I’d had all I could take. But a funny thing happened. Every day last summer, I planned to go up to the superintendent and quit. But I never could pull the trigger. So football season rolled around and I was still coach.

“I decided to give it one more try, you know, didn’t want to go out with a loss. I want you boys to know something: I almost made a terrible mistake. I almost walked away from this and missed out. I’m glad God directed me away from quitting and that He kept me here with you guys. I’d hate to think that I almost missed seeing you guys go from a team that struggled so badly at the first of the year to what you have become, twenty-four minutes away from being district champions.

“I’ve coached many teams that have been district champions here at Petros. But I’ve never been prouder of any of those teams than I am of you guys. Now let’s go cap this thing off and get that dang trophy.”

Cole patted the last of the players as he walked away. The players watched him head out the door, the emotions at such a level it was impossible not to have chill bumps.

Even Ichabod, Stub and Lloyd were a little choked up, wishing there was some way they could get back out on the field and try and help the team win.

The players were so keyed up after Cole’s speech that it was a good thing the second half was fixing to start or they were going to start hitting each other or the bands.

Lloyd took a glance at his watch and saw it was time to take the field.

“It’s time to go swat some Spiders,” he announced.

The players were ready, wasting no time as they flew to the door and back out on the field.

Petros’ band was just finishing up its part of the halftime show so the players had to stand in the end zone, ready to explode like a can of pop that had been shaken.

As soon as the last member of the band stepped off the field, the Panthers sprinted down the field to the opposite end and then back to midfield.

The Spiders would get the ball to start the second half. The wind had died down, just enough of a breeze now to make the few remaining leaves flutter on the trees.

As the players took the field for the second-half kickoff, it started raining. At first, it was just a few drops, but the rain steadily increased. The fans scrambled to put on rain suits and find some kind of cover to try and stay dry. Cole noticed nobody was leaving, not that it surprised him.

The weather conditions were already not good. But with the rain, it became miserable. Cole sent the trainers in to get jackets for the players to try and stay warm and dry.

The kick was a good one, long, but low, giving the Spiders a chance for a good return. He was going full speed toward an opening and never saw the black blur coming toward him from an angle.

The blur was Art Miller, a sophomore who had to fill his pockets with coins to reach the 155 pounds he was listed at in the program.

He actually weighed closer to 145 pounds. Most people knew him better for his mouth than his football skills, the type of guy who always had something to say that got on other people’s nerves. Art did not look or act like a football player.

One person had always treated him good, though, and that was his coach. Art never even gave a second thought or worried about the impact of a collision between two objects moving at such a high rate of speed, even though one of those objects was giving up a good thirty pounds.

He just saw the opportunity and took it. The larger person does not always win in a collision of such force. Especially when the bigger guy does not expect the collision.

Art left his feet just before impact, making his body a missile aimed at the Summerfield player’s chest. It was a hit that would be replayed many times, even by the Fort Smith television station at the game to get some highlights.

Little Art Miller delivered a hit that actually made the Summerfield player fly back. He hit the ground and almost did a flip. Art did not get to see it, of course, since he closed his eyes just before contact. The next thing he knew, his teammates were picking him up and congratulating him.

For a player who had always struggled to fit in, it was a time when Art finally felt accepted, knowing he finally did not have to irritate people to get attention.

Art’s legs were actually a little unsteady as he made his way to the sidelines. He saw all the players waiting for him but the one person who mattered the most was his coach, who greeted him like some long-lost relative.

Art had to take a seat and let his head clear. He was not really hurting, just felt like his brain was in a daze.

A team as potent as Summerfield was almost impossible to shut down. There was a reason the Spiders were averaging fifty points a game.

The Spiders showed that on this drive. The first two plays failed, but the third was a gem. Penny took the snap, rolled out and tossed a pass to one of the receivers, who benefited from a pick from another receiver that took out Skip.

The receiver hauled in the pass and found some room. This was not good for the Panthers as the receiver was one of the fastest players in the district, almost winning the 110 meters in the district track meet last spring.

The Panthers chased him but it was hopeless. He got a lead and never gave it up, sprinting down the field with a pack of Petros players closely behind, never getting close enough to even dive for a tackle. Less than a minute into the second half, the lead had stretched from one point to eight.

Cole expected to need to reassure the players as they came off the field but saw that was not needed. His players were angry and even more determined now than when they came out for the start of the second half.

On the ensuing kickoff, Kenneth dropped the ball, then dodged, swerved and weaved his way out to the 31 before getting tackled.

Petros started another drive. The dives and quick-hitting plays picked up good yardage as the Panthers pounded away, eating up yardage and the clock.

The drive reached inside the Summerfield 30 as the Spiders struggled to slow down the Panthers. Cole never gave it a thought, calling an option to the left. The Panthers had run the play several times and Lucky executed the pitch with his left hand.

On the earlier plays, he had a little more time. This time, the Spiders were on him quick. One of the Summerfield players nailed him right as he let go of the ball. He tried to pitch back to D.J., but the pitch was behind him. With the defensive end on top of him, Lucky could only lie and watch the ball bounce away with players from both teams trying to recover the loose pigskin.

One of the Spiders got there first and recovered.

It was one of the worst feelings Lucky had ever gone through. It was like somebody reached deep into his throat and yanked out all his insides.

It was already hard enough to beat Summerfield, but would be nearly impossible to win by making mistakes.

He dug himself off the wet ground and walked to the sidelines, ignoring his teammates telling him to shake it off.

Cole saw his son’s face and had seldom seen such anguish on one of his players. He walked down to where Lucky was standing, regretting the call that caused his son to try and make a pitch with his injured wrist.

“I’m sorry,” Lucky said, before Cole could say anything. He saw his son was nearly in tears and that bothered Cole.

“It was my fault,” Cole responded.

“No, it was mine,” Lucky argued. “You didn’t make the pitch”

“Nope, but I shouldn’t have called that play.”

Lucky looked down at his wrist and started removing the tape and the brace.

“What’re you doing?” Cole asked.

“I can’t play with this on.”

“But can you play without it?”

Lucky looked at his father with the kind of look that drove many parents crazy.

“I can play,” Lucky answered, then threw the brace back toward the bench.

“Well why are you standing here then? I think the defense needs one more player.”

“Oh yeah,” Lucky responded, grabbed his helmet and sprinted back out on the field.

The Spiders saw the opportunity to put Petros away and were going for it. Cole did not like many of the things Summerfield did, but knew the Spiders definitely had the killer instinct.

When they got a team down, they kept them down.

The Spiders started driving again. The Panthers were determined not to give up another big play, forcing Summerfield to make yards on runs and short passes.

Summerfield moved to the Petros 12. The Panthers knew this was it. They had to stop the Spiders because if they gave up another score, it would be almost impossible to come back and they would have to settle for second place in the district and always see that empty space in the trophy case.

Cole hated to use timeouts unless it was the end of a half or the game. He hardly ever called one when his team was playing defense, but decided this was a situation where it was necessary.

As the players made their way to the sidelines, they did not know what to expect. They knew the coaches were disappointed in them, but they were upset also.

The players stood around their coaches, looking toward the ground, not wanting to look at the coaches.

“Guys, I don’t wanna go into a bunch of cliches, but we’re gonna have to put up or shut up right here,” Cole told his team. “We’ve got to stop them or we’re gonna be in a lot of trouble.”

He looked at the players, trying to monitor their reaction. Cole saw there was still plenty of heart left, a look of anger on their faces.

“It’s time to put up your dukes boys and show them what you’re made of,” he added. “We stop them here, somehow and someway we’re gonna win this game. Now, somebody’s gonna have to make a play here and turn things around.”

It was the right thing to say to a bunch of boys who were struggling. Cole saw their spirits skyrocket and while he hoped to not regret saying that, it just seemed like the right thing to say.

The players sprinted back out on the field, hollering and encouraging each other. It looked like a far different group of players than the ones who had just come to the sidelines. The numbers and faces were the same, but nothing else. The fans stood and screamed, trying to will the defense.

Cole knew it was not a problem of alignment allowing Summerfield to drive down the field. It was that the Panthers were teetering on the edge. They were like boxers who had taken several blows and were close to a standing 8-count.

That was how Cole viewed it. He remembered seeing many of those same boxers bounce back and win the match and hoped that was the case for his own team.

But now, he expected his team to make things much more difficult for the Spiders.

After seeing some success during the start of the second half, the cockiness and the trash talking had resumed for Summerfield. It was a different Petros team on defense. All night, the Panthers had turned the other cheek and let things get done and said they normally would not allow without responding.

It was a sign of disclipine, but they had taken all they would take.

One of the main talkers on the Summerfield team was the quarterback. Penny was a cocky player who mouthed off throughout the game, but got worse on this drive.

As Penny walked to the line, a smile stretched across his face, clearly evident behind the facemask.

“We’re through playing with you boys,” he shouted. “It’s time to send you home crying to your mommas.”

Lucky had never mouthed back in his life, not even in playground games with friends. But like his teammates, he had enough.

“You’re the only thing going down,” Lucky responded, edging closer to the line.

Penny stopped and smiled again.

“Yeah, right,” he stated. “The only reason you’re playing is cause your daddy’s the coach.”

Lucky was boiling now, his anger reaching a new level. With his position on defense, Lucky was allowed some freedom to line up and play pretty much however he wanted.

Right now, Lucky felt like getting close to the line and hitting the quarterback.

As the ball was snapped, Lucky cheated closer, watching the flow of the play and looking for a gap to shoot through. The quarterback rolled out to this right, looking to throw or run if a receiver was not open. It was one of Summerfield’s best plays, one the Panthers had trouble stopping all night.

Lucky waited, looking for the right opportunity. Finally, a hole opened up and he flew through untouched, speeding toward the quarterback.

Penny was still rolling out and never saw it coming. Lucky bore down on him and dove, his target the lower part of Penny’s back. As soon as Lucky dove, Penny pulled up to throw the ball.

He paid the price, getting smashed from behind.

The blow was so hard all the breath left Penny’s lungs. His arm was raised when he got hit with no way to keep control of the ball. It left his hand and sailed back several yards. Lucky scrambled away from the quarterback and crawled toward the loose ball, looking like a baby crawling before discovering the legs were made for walking.

It seemed like it took forever as he crawled after the ball, finally grabbing it just before the crazed masses arrived. He held on to it like it was his favorite possession, knowing several bodies were fixing to crash down on top of him and try to knock the ball loose.

The Spiders slammed into him but it did not matter. Lucky was not going to give this puppy up.

The officials signaled it was Petros’ ball and a roar descended from that side of the field. The stands started to shake as everybody jumped up and down, hugging anybody who was near.

As the pile finally broke apart and Lucky climbed to his feet, he handed the ball to the official and looked back to see the Spiders’ quarterback on all fours, trying to rise but unable to do so.

Lucky considered saying something else, but knew the message he delivered with the hit was far better than any words.

He looked back at the clock and saw the time in the third quarter had ran out. There was only one quarter left, one brief period standing between him and his teammates from the biggest prize they ever tried to grasp.

As the teams switched ends of the field, Lucky went to the sidelines to talk with the coaches, who were more intent on congratulating him than relaying any information.

The smile on his father’s face made him feel better than the play did. Lucky always felt like his father was proud of him, but seeing the look firmly convinced him.

“That was what we needed,” Cole said, hugging his son, leaving all the other coaches stunned.

“He must be a little excited,” Stub mentioned to Ichabod.

“I can’t remember him doing that,” Ichabod countered.

“So what?” Lloyd asked, rushing by to also congratulate his brother.

Cole kept his arm around his youngest son.

“We gotta go score now,” he announced.

Lucky nodded, expecting more advice but receiving none.

He sprinted back on the field, his teammates trailing behind.

They huddled at the 18. Lucky waited until everybody was present.

“Okay, there’s eighty-two yards between us and a touchdown,” he told his teammates, looking at everybody in the huddle. “We’ve got to score here and get a two-point conversion. We can do that. Let’s give everybody something they can talk about for years.”

The rest of the offense voiced their approval of the plan. The blocking suddenly got crisper. The backs ran a little harder. The Pathers knew it would not be easy, but also knew it had to be done.

Cole worked the plays just the way he liked, using one play to set up the next as the Panthers drove down the field. There was a union among the players Cole had seldom seen before. Even D.J. was congratulating his teammates and Lucky. The other players were helping each other up and offering encouragement.

Before crossing midfield, Petros never had a running play go over five yards. The only play that went that far was a pass from Lucky to Andy, a message telling the Spiders not to forget the pass.

The biggest challenge of the drive was when the Panthers faced third-and-six from the Summerfield 38. Lucky figured it was time for a trick play or a pass, but Cole sent in a simple power play instead.

Lucky wanted to change the play to give his team a better chance at the first down, but stuck with it, knowing there was some reason for the call.

Nobody else batted an eye. They had received their instructions and would follow them. If they had any question about the call, like their quarterback, they swallowed it and went on with it, trying to make it work.

Skip got the handoff from Lucky and was surprised to see a huge hole open as the Panthers’ line just blew away the Spiders. He needed six yards for the first down and that was what he got.

The officials brought in the chains, measured and saw Skip had picked up the first down by the nose of the ball.

D.J. followed with a simple dive, flying through another big hole, then cut outside. He ran over the safety at the 20 and was not stopped until getting knocked out of bounds at the 9.

Lucky expected the call even before receiving it. The last two plays after handing off the ball, he had carried out the fake and noticed nobody paid attention to him.

It was the perfect time for a bootleg and that was the call from the sidelines. As the play was relayed, he smiled, knowing this was the perfect call.

Lucky took the snap, spun around and placed the ball in Skip’s belly, left it there for a second, pulled it out quickly, never giving any indication to the defense that he had the ball. Lucky slowly jogged away from the play, even looking back to see how the run was going.

The defense was sold, swarming to Skip, never knowing he didn’t have the ball. The defensive end who was supposed to cover Lucky was history, trailing behind Skip. As Lucky rolled out, nobody paid any attention to him and he turned up the field and sprinted toward the end zone. He could not seem to get his legs going fast enough, certain somebody was fixing to catch him from behind with every step. Lucky was not convinced until he crossed into the end zone, holding the ball high.

It was one of the easier touchdowns he had ever scored, making him wish they were all this easy.

It was now 21-19 and the Panthers had to go for two points.

Cole liked to be prepared and usually knew what play he wanted to run in advance. He had expected the bootleg to work, but did not expect the play to score, leaving him unprepared for the call on the conversion.

The play he decided on was one his teams always ran, but had not used much this year. They had practiced it, but failed to try it in a game.

Cole wondered if this was the right time to call the play with the game on the line. But he also knew it had a better chance of scoring than any other play. It wasn’t like the Spiders expected it.

He sent Kenneth in with the call. When the call was relayed, it surprised Lucky and his teammates, although they had no doubt it would work. It was a difficult play to defend, especially if you weren’t prepared for it.

The ball was placed in the middle of the field. The Spiders had been too aggressive and it had cost them on the previous play. Cole and the Panthers hoped it would hurt them once more.

Petros came to the line in a split-back formation with two tight ends and Kenneth lined up at wingback on the left side. It was the first time tonight the Panthers lined up in this formation and used Kenneth on offense.

For once, the Spiders were silent.

Lucky took the snap, the adrenaline so high the pain in his wrist failed to register. He spun around and faked a handoff to D.J. on a power play. Kenneth took one step toward the line, also spun around and went back against the flow of the play.

The fake to D.J. was a good one, as nobody on the defense noticed Kenneth. The Spiders swarmed all over D.J., tackling him at the line. They started to celebrate, then realized he didn’t have the ball.

Lucky hid the ball after the fake and handed it back to Kenneth as he came around. The defensive end stayed home this time, not wanting to get faked out and chewed out by the coaches again.

The end realized what was happening and got into position. It would be a simple showdown between the two players to see if the Panthers would get into the end zone and tie the score.

Kenneth quickly realized the end played it perfect. He could not outrun him to get outside and there was no way to cut back inside. So he knew it would have to be the second option on the play. Kenneth drifted deeper into the backfield, never giving any indication of what was fixing to happen. The rest of the defense had caught on to the reverse and was recovering.

Kenneth waited until the last second, pulled up and tossed the ball into the end zone. Murray had faked a block on the tackle and with nobody paying any attention, slipped into the back of the end zone, just in case a throw came his direction.

It was rushed just a bit with the end bearing down on him and Kenneth let go at the last instant. The pass was not a thing of beauty, seeming to wobble through the air. It was a good thing Murray was so open or there was no way the pass would ever get to him.

Murray realized the pass was going to come up a little short and came back toward the ball. He went down on both knees and reached out for the ball, his hands inches above the ground.

He bobbled the ball, reached out and tipped it back toward him as the defense descended on him. With everybody’s eyes locked on him in anticipation, Murray leaned forward, grabbed hold of the ball just before it touched the ground and brought it back to his chest as two Spiders crashed into him.

The officials moved in to make sure Murray still had possession. Seeing him cradle the ball to his chest, they raised their arms. It was now a brand new game. The two teams were tied, 21-21, with over half the fourth quarter left.

Cole and the coaches quickly calmed the players down, reminding them the game was far from over.

The kicking team assembled and crowded around the coaches. Cole had noticed something the last time the Panthers had kicked off and decided to try and take advantage of it.

When he told the players what to do, they wondered if their coach had lost it. They looked at each other, wondering if anybody would question the call.

Nobody did and the players took the field. Cole watched the Spiders line up and his heartbeat went up a notch as he saw them line up as expected.

Now if they would react as he hoped.

Jeremy waited for the officials to give their go-ahead, then slowly jogged forward, pulled up at the last second and barely kicked the top of the ball, sending it bouncing end-over-end.

Cole and everybody on the sidelines held their breath, watching the play unfold. He nearly screamed for joy when the first line of Summerfield blockers turned and started retreating down the field to block for the return.

Jeremy jogged along with the bouncing ball, motioning with his arms for the ball to hurry up and go the necessary 10 yards. It seemed to take forever, but finally the ball crossed midfield. The Spiders had realized what was happening and were coming back toward the ball, meeting the rushing Panthers in violent collisions. Jeremy dropped down and fell on the ball. A pair of Summerfield players dove on top of him, but could not jar the ball free.

The officials signaled it was Petros’ ball and Cole felt a tremendous sense of relief, knowing if the onside kick had failed, it would have been a terrible call.

Petros’ fans went crazy while the Summerfield side was stunned. The rest of the Panthers’ offense sprinted out on the field, raising their arms and making all kinds of manly sounds. Cole watched the Spiders and saw they were losing their composure, arguing with each other and hollering obscenities.

The Panthers took over just past midfield. It was time for the Panthers to start pounding again. Petros needed to drive down the field and score again, but also needed to run out the clock.

Skip got the call on first down, running a sweep behind D.J., Lucky and the two pulling guards. He made it back to the line, cut back inside and was swarmed over, only picking up two yards.

A dive by D.J. only gained two yards, leaving the Panthers facing another key third-and-six. Cole sent in the play. Lucky relayed the call and sent his offense to the line. He waited until the snap clock neared zero before calling for the ball. Finally, he took the snap, faked the handoff to Skip on a dive, took a couple of steps down the line then dropped back.

Unfortunately for Petros, nobody was open. Lucky rolled out, still not finding anybody to throw to. The Spiders were closing in on him and reached him, right after he tucked the ball and started to run.

It was now fourth-and-long for the Panthers and Cole had no choice but to punt. Jeremy let loose with a low line drive that was fielded at the 15 and returned to the 25.

The Spiders now had new life and a new burst of energy. The players were not arguing with each other anymore, but were pulling together and urging each other.

Summerfield wasted little time getting the offense cranked back up. The Panthers knew what was coming but could not stop their opponents. The Spiders used a series of short passes to move the ball quickly down the field.

It was starting to look bad for the Panthers as they could not stop Summerfield. When the Spiders reached Petros’ 26, there were less than two minutes remaining.
Cole was aware of this and walked over to talk with Ichabod.

“I don’t care if they score,” he advised. “But we’ve got to get our defensive backs up tight on the receivers and put some pressure on that quarterback.”

Ichabod nodded. He had been fairly conservative on this drive but knew something had to change or the Spiders would run out the clock or score with little time remaining. Ichabod changed the defense, tightening up the coverage and sent in a blitz.

It was just what Derwin was looking for. As the ball was snapped, he saw a small opening and flew through it, fought off the fullback’s block and bore down on the quarterback. Penny saw the Petros linebacker coming and started drifting to his right.

Derwin would have none of it, though. He reached out, grabbed Penny by the jersey and started to throw him down. Penny tossed a pass toward his favorite receiver near the sidelines at the last second.

Despite the pressure from Derwin, it was a perfect pass, a beautiful spiral that looked like a dart as it flew toward the receiver. Just before the ball arrived into the receiver’s hands, Skip came flying in. When the receiver had made his break, he had shoved Skip, causing him to lose his balance and fall to the ground.

Skip recovered quickly and saw the play developing. He doubted it was possible to stop the play, but climbed to his feet and sprinted toward the receiver, arriving just as the ball did. He was only hoping to knock the ball down, but found the ball sailing right in front of him.

Skip dove, grabbed the ball and fell to the ground, cradling the pigskin in his arms to keep it from bouncing free when he landed. It was as good of an interception as anybody had seen from a high-school player, a play that would be remembered for a long time.

But it was so surprising everybody was stunned for a few seconds and could not react. When the Petros side realized what happened, they went nuts.

Cole was left speechless, not believing what happened right in front of him. Skip got up quickly, acting like it was no big deal. He tossed the ball to the referee and jogged back to where the offense would huddle, accepting the congratulations of his teammates but not overdoing it.

He realized his play would not mean a thing if the Panthers did not take advantage of it. There would be plenty of time to celebrate after the game, if his team pulled out the win.

The Spiders argued that Skip trapped the ball but two officials had a good view of the play and said it was an interception and Petros’ ball. Penny really made a rear out of himself, arguing so hard and flailing his arms to such a degree the officials finally tired of it and said his team would lose fifteen yards if another word left his mouth.

Penny continued griping all the way to the sidelines where he was met by several coaches, all ripping into him for throwing the interception, not caring it was a great play by Skip, one not many high-school players could make.

Cole gathered his team around him, aside from Skip. They needed to calm down and get their focus back or they would not be able to do anything.

“Everybody needs to settle down,” he told them, talking softly. “This is our time, guys. Take advantage of it. Let’s go score and win a district championship.”

There was a minute and forty-six seconds left. Lucky and the offense came out on the field quickly and huddled since Summerfield’s defense had not taken the field.

As he walked to the line, Lucky looked at his opponents and knew they were not ready to quit. The mouthing was over but they still had the same determination.

The Panthers came out in the shotgun. Lucky took the snap, faked an inside handoff to D.J., fooling the Spiders. Lucky paused for a second then rolled out.

Andy had a couple of steps on the defensive back and Lucky threw a pass to him. Andy fielded the pass cleanly and sprinted to the sidelines, getting several more yards before stepping out-of-bounds to stop the clock.

The ball was now on their 43. Since the clock stopped, Petros huddled as Lucky called a play.

This time, Lucky took the snap and did hand off to D.J., fooling the Spiders again as they followed the Petros quarterback as he rolled out.

D.J. sliced through a good hole and picked up six yards. He could have got more except the Summerfield linebacker made a diving tackle to bring him down.

Lucky put his team on the line. He had called another play in the huddle prior to D.J.’s run. The Panthers were in the shotgun again.

The crowd noise was at a decibel level that was hard to believe for a small-town, high-school game. It was a constant roar emitting from the stands. Both sides were shouting encouragement to a group of boys who were representing the hopes and dreams of entire communities.

The Spiders were coming with a blitz and it surprised Lucky. He picked up on it quickly, but the pressure forced him to roll out and throw the ball away.

It was now third-and-four. The Panthers had to pick up a first down here because if they failed and faced fourth down, Petros would have to punt, not wanting to give Summerfield the ball in good field position if they failed to move the chains.

The Panthers were again in the shotgun with receivers all over the field. Even D.J. vacated the backfield and lined up in a slot, leaving Lucky in the backfield by himself.

Lucky had a bad feeling about the play that had been called and changed it, using hand signals to relay the information to the receivers. He told the receivers the routes they should run, not that it mattered.

Seeing only four defensive players lined up in the box and all the rest dropping back to cover the receivers, Lucky had no intention on throwing a pass.

He called for the ball and dropped back two steps, eyeing the receivers while waiting for an opening. Finally, a hole opened and Lucky took off.

Lucky flew past before any linemen realized he was no longer in the backfield. He easily picked up the first down and added ten more yards before getting hit from his right.

While falling, Lucky put out his left hand to brace the fall, never realizing that was not a good idea. Until his hand hit the ground, then he knew it was a mistake.

Shock waves of pain went piercing through his hand, the wrist and up his arm, the pain so intense that it required all of his energy to rise and walk back to the huddle.

Cole saw what happened and called time while watching Lucky slowly walk back to the huddle, holding his injured wrist.

It would only leave the Panthers with one timeout but Cole did not want to let the officials stop play for the injury as Lucky would have to miss a play.

Cole knew they needed to take a look at the wrist and determine if his son could continue playing. He expected Lucky to play unless there was a bone sticking out, but this would give him a little time to recover.

Lucky was hurting bad as he came to the sidelines. Cole knew his son had a high threshold of pain and this had to hurt bad to cause this reaction.

Waves of pain were flowing out of the injured wrist, nerves sending protests to the brain that the injured area had been hurt again. Lucky bent over after reaching the sidelines, not looking up until his father put his arm around him.

“Let me take a look at it,” Cole requested.

Lucky straightened up and held out his hand for his father to examine. It really did not look any different than before, but seeing Lucky in this much pain made his father know what needed to be done.

“We’re gonna put in Gary,” he stated, turning to tell Stub.

“I can play,” Lucky protested.

“This game isn’t more important than your health.”

Lucky waited for just a second, the anger boiling up inside. He never argued with his father, would not imagine doing so under normal circumstances. But this time, Lucky was determined.

“It is to me,” Lucky answered, pulled his wrist back and ran back on the field before anybody could stop him.

The pain was terrible, but Lucky knew it would be much worse if he let everybody down by taking a seat on the bench for the rest of the game and his team lost.

Cole was left standing on the sideline, his jaw hanging open.

“I don’t guess Lucky wants to come out,” Stub suggested.

Cole had known sports were important to his son, but never knew the extent until this moment.

Lucky called a play and sent the team to the line. He caught the snap with his right hand, using his left hand for support. He stood in the pocket, looking for a receiver to break free. Harry broke open across the middle and barely had time to react before Lucky fired a bullet to him.

As soon as Harry caught the ball, two defensive backs smacked into him. Harry held on to the ball and bounced up quickly, knowing they had not picked up a first down and the clock was running.

Lucky hurried his team to line up quickly and called a play.

The center, Danny Wall, snapped the ball before Lucky was ready. He was looking to the right and picked up motion, turned and saw the ball just before it arrived. Lucky barely caught the ball, bobbling it for a second, before recovering and firing a quick pass to Skip.

He caught the ball and was tackled quickly. The play was good for another first down. The clock was stopped because of the first down, but would start again as soon as the chains were set. The chain gang moved slower than a bunch of ninety-year old men, wanting to make sure the Panthers had plenty of time to set up.

The Summerfield side did not like that and hollered at the chain gang to hurry up, getting no reaction in return.

The Panthers actually had to wait to snap the ball. As soon as the ball was marked ready to play, Lucky had the snap and was looking for somebody to get open.

The protection broke down on the left side and the defensive end broke free and hit Lucky in the back, sending him crashing to the ground.

Lucky never saw it coming and almost coughed up the ball, knowing this was another hit that would leave its mark on him.

A couple of linemen helped him up, apologizing for letting the defense get to him. The Panthers hurried to get lined up, everybody knowing this was taking too much time. Cole watched the clock drop below one minute.

When the offense was ready, Lucky got the snap again. He saw another blitz coming and waited as long as possible for somebody to get open. Lucky knew the coverage was too good and finally threw the ball away, just before the same defensive end was about to hit him again.

It was third-and-fifteen and the Panthers needed a huge play. Lucky changed the formation, sending four receivers to the right, leaving Andy alone on the left.

He barked the signals and received the snap. It was a little low but fielded cleanly. The Spiders again tried to overload one side, but the Panthers picked it up.

Lucky stood in the pocket, looking to his right to keep the defense from realizing his intentions. After waiting as long as possible, he turned back to the left, saw Andy and threw the ball in that direction, a high lob Lucky hoped his receiver could run under.

Andy had a step on the cornerback. The pass was almost too far in front of him but his long legs gobbled up the distance and he leaped high in the air, soaring above the helpless defensive player and grabbed the ball, making sure to protect it while coming down.

He was brought down quickly, but not before picking up seventeen yards and a first down. Lucky hurried his team to the line, not really needing to since the chain crew was again moving at the speed of dripping sap.

As the play started, Lucky planned to throw the lob to Andy once again. But as he surveyed the field, Lucky saw the defensive back covering Skip fall down, leaving him wide open.

The pass was perfect and Skip caught it in stride at the 20. He reached the 10 before going out-of-bounds to stop the clock.

All the Petros players rushed to where the new line should be, but knew something was wrong when the Spiders and the officials did not join them. They turned around to see what was happening and saw the officials huddled back where the former play started.

The Summerfield coaches had been screaming all game to the officials that Petros’ line was holding and their protests appeared to finally pay off as a yellow flag littered the ground.

The officials broke their little huddle and the referee walked away and faced the press box. He gave the signal for holding against Petros, a penalty that would take the Panthers back at least 10 yards from the previous spot.

Cole was livid. He started his own protest, calls that fell on empty ears as the officials acted like they either did not hear him or did not care what was said.

The penalty gave Summerfield new life and the Spiders capitalized, sacking Lucky on the next play, leaving the Panthers facing second-and-a-mile to go with the clock ticking down.

The Panthers finally regrouped but could not snap the ball until less than 30 seconds were left. Lucky was pressured again, had to scramble away and was unable to connect on a pass to Andy.

The third down play was a repeat as the Spiders’ coverage was excellent and the pressure finally forced Lucky to throw the ball before he was ready. The pass was knocked down, leaving Petros facing fourth-and-long.

Happy came sprinting out on the field to line up in the backfield and give Lucky an extra blocker.

“Keep them off me, guys,” Lucky requested. “Especially you, Happy.”

Happy nodded, chewing on his mouthpiece.

“I got you covered,” Happy answered, a statement Lucky did not doubt.

The play Lucky called was not one in the playbook. He simply told the receivers to go long and get open.

As he fielded the snap, Lucky saw the same defensive end breaking through the line, but this time the end found a roadblock in the form of Happy.

Happy expected it, was prepared for it, and took advantage of it. He caught the end while the Summerfield player broke free from a blocker and Happy just creamed him, sending the end down to the ground on his rear, giving Lucky extra time to find somebody open.

He knew the seconds were ticking away but Lucky refused to budge, waiting for somebody to break free. Somebody finally did. Kenneth had driven his defender deep, then cut back across the field, gaining some freedom from the defensive back.

Lucky cocked his arm and delivered a bullet, a pass that would impress many college quarterbacks. With a trio of players converging on the ball, most of them Spiders, the only question was who would arrive first.

Kenneth and the ball met on the same path, barely in front of a pair of Spiders who went for the ball, narrowly missing it. A third player went for Kenneth, plowing into him just after the pass arrived. Kenneth held on somehow, moving the ball down to the Summerfield 17.

It was good enough for a first down and kept the drive alive.

Lucky looked at the clock and saw only eight seconds were left. He looked to the sidelines, saw his father wanted a timeout and called one. The Panthers slowly made their way to the sideline to meet with their coaches. Cole had walked down the field to see where the ball was located.

A field goal would be at least 34 yards on a wet field and into the wind. He was weighing this as he made his way back to where his team was huddled. Cole knew this would be a difficult kick for Jeremy, but also knew that was not his only option.

He found the object of his search in the middle of the huddle.

“Can you make it from there?” Cole asked.

Jeremy looked uncertain. That would be stretching it for him, he knew, especially under the conditions.

“I don’t know,” Jeremy answered, wishing his leg was stronger. “I think Lucky would have a better shot.”

Cole looked at his son. Lucky was the emergency kicker and had a much stronger leg. He was not as accurate as Jeremy, but had at least 10 yards extra distance.

“What do you think?” Cole asked.

“I’m game,” Lucky stated.

“That’s not what I want to know,” Cole responded, staring at his son. “Can you make it?”

Lucky looked out on the field where the ball was marked, covered by a white towel. It looked like a long way to him, but nothing that could not be done.

“What is it, thirty-four yards?” Lucky asked.

Cole nodded.

“It’s doable.”

Cole looked at his son with a questioning look, never hearing that word come from Lucky’s mouth and doubting it was a word that was used often.

“Can you make it?”

“Chalk it up,” Lucky answered.

That was a pretty confident way to affirm he could make the kick. Lucky slipped off to kick a few into the net to make sure his leg was loose. He got in four kicks before the officials told the Panthers they had to come back out on the field.

Cole was questioning his sanity as the players ran back out on the field for the field-goal attempt.

“This better work,” Stub mentioned. “Or you’ll drive yourself crazy.”

“Thanks for pointing that out,” Cole replied.

With the Panthers lining up for the field goal, shouts of “block that kick!” echoed from the Summerfield side.

Just before the ball was snapped, the Spiders called time, wanting Lucky to think about the kick a little longer.

The shouts continued as the Spiders went to the sidelines. Lucky was too young to have seen it, of course, or even heard about it, but Lucky turned to the Summerfield side and started leading the chants. It was just like University of Oklahoma kicker Uwe Von Schaumann had done once prior to kicking a game-winning field goal for the Sooners in a game at Ohio State in the 1970’s with the game resting on his shoulders.

“He doesn’t seem too worried,” Stub mentioned.

“Nope, I just wish he’d quit shaking his rear like that,” Cole stated, then chuckled.

“I hope it’s on film so I can rag him about it,” Lloyd added.

“Not a real manly movement,” Ichabod continued.

“I guess that’s something you’d know about,” Stub injected, then walked away before Ichabod responded.

Lucky finally grew tired of leading the cheers and entertaining his teammates, who thought it was quite humorous. He practiced a few kicks, just killing time. Lucky wasn’t the least bit nervous, knowing that it was a no-lose situation for him. If he made it, the Panthers would win and life would be great. If he missed the kick, the game would go into overtime. Nobody expected him to make it anyway.

The Spiders finally came back on the field, the words flowing freely from their mouths once again. They called the Panthers and Lucky everything in the book and a few extras.

Lucky could care less. He had already decided the words “class” and “Summerfield” did not belong in the same sentence and knew the best way to shut them up would be to beat them.

The two teams lined up for the kick. Harry would be the holder, one of the best Cole ever had. Danny would snap the ball.

“You ready?” Harry asked.

Lucky nodded, concentrating on the spot where he wanted to kick from.

Harry barked out the signals. Suddenly, everything grew quiet to Lucky. It was like he and Harry had the field to themselves. He could not hear anybody and did not see anybody else.

Danny’s snap was a little low but Harry fielded it cleanly, placing the ball on the black kicking tee and spun it so the laces faced away from the kicker.

Lucky had lined up three steps back and three to the side. As soon as the ball was snapped, he started moving forward, took two steps and planted his left foot. His cleats held firmly on the wet grass and his right leg began the descent toward the ball, his eyes never leaving the spot where he wanted his foot to meet the ball.

As soon as his foot made contact, Lucky knew he hit it good. He didn’t know how accurate it was, but was sure the kick was long enough. Everybody in the old stadium was standing, watching the ball take off like a missile. From the sidelines and the stands, it is almost impossible to tell if a field goal is good until the ball gets to the goal posts.

The smart fans watched the players on the field to see their reactions, knowing that was the quickest way to determine if the kick was good.

Cole knew from the thud the ball was kicked well enough, but was worried about the direction. Lucky grew worried quickly, seeing the ball was well right of the right upright. The ball was hooking back, but he didn’t know if it would be enough. He leaned to his left, hoping that would have some effect on the ball.

It still didn’t look good, but Lucky knew the ball was hooking hard. It had started off way right but was coming back quick. He and Harry both started waving their arms, trying to will the ball back to the left.

When Lucky saw the ball cross in front of the goal post, he turned and hugged Harry, who had already started jumping up and down. The ball flew well past the goal posts and into the grassy area at that end of the field.

The ballboys started jumping up and down. Skip’s younger brother, Sandy, caught the ball and started sprinting to the sidelines, holding the ball aloft. The rest of the Panthers waited for the officials to make it, well, official, before celebrating.

It was pure pandemonium on the Petros side as the players ran around like a bunch of chickens with their heads cut off and the fans and band members shouted, screamed, hugged each other and jumped.

Lucky never felt his feet touch the ground as he sprinted to the sidelines, meeting his brother and jumping into his arms. He had never felt such a rush or such joy, the feeling increasing as Lucky saw the look on his father’s face.

Cole tried to not show how jubilant he actually felt, knowing two seconds were left on the clock. He and the coaches got the players under control and got the kicking team huddled.

For the fans dressed in black and white, there was no reason to wait. Their emotions had been on such a rollercoaster for the past two hours and they were tapped out. They had waited a long time for something like this and were determined to get every ounce of enjoyment out of it.

Cole looked at the boys gathered around him, seeing the excitement on their young faces.

“There’s still time on the clock for them to try something,” he pointed out, remembering all the highlights from games where a team scored some wild way at the end of the game to win. “Jeremy, I want you to squib the ball down the field but kick that thing hard.”

Jeremy nodded. As he and the rest of the kickoff team jogged out on the field, the players on the sidelines waved their arms, jumped up and down and hugged each other. The crowd grew even more frenzied.

The ball was placed on its side on the tee. When the officials gave the signal, Jeremy approached the ball and drilled it, sending the ball down the field, never more than five-yards high.

The ball hit one of the blockers on his shoulder and bounced hard to the side. The clock had started and before one of the backs could pick up the ball, the buzzer sounded. The Panthers swarmed to the ball and three of them hit the returner just after he fielded the kick.

He tried pitching the ball to a teammate while falling down but instead fumbled. Derwin dove on the loose ball, setting off a huge celebration in the stands and on the field.

Nobody thought it was possible, but Petros had just won the district championship, 24-21.

The field was quickly filled with people wearing black and white, wanting to congratulate the players and coaches and be a part of the biggest celebration that had taken place in years.

“We did it!” Stub shouted, hugging Cole as they walked toward the center of the field.

“Yeah, and it feels great!” Cole added, hugging back and relishing the moment.

The players were in the midst of the celebration and the coaches started to join in. They tried to congratulate the Spiders but had little luck. Many of the Summerfield players did not even give the Panthers a chance, retreating from the field along with their coaches.

Cole was stunned to see this. It had been hard for him and the Panthers to congratulate Summerfield after last year’s game, but they marched right across the field and shook hands and wished the Spiders good luck.

“Don’t worry about it,” said Lloyd, who had moved up beside his father.

Cole looked at his oldest son, smiled again and hugged him.

“You’re right,” Cole agreed. “Let’s go join in the fun.”

Lucky got a lot of attention but passed most of it on to his teammates. Cole wanted to grab his youngest son and squeeze him for all he was worth, but made sure to hug several other Panthers before greeting Lucky.

“I’m so proud of you,” Cole whispered in his son’s ear. “You really came through tonight.”

“Thanks,” Lucky answered, his face beaming. “We won because we were coached better.”

Lucky hugged his father back. He looked around and saw Toni standing off the side. She still did not understand much about football and had to be told what Lucky did to give Petros the win.

“I’m proud of you,” she stated, walking toward him.

‘Thanks,” Lucky responded, hugging her. They walked toward the locker room, shaking hands and accepting congratulations along the way.

The celebration continued well into the night as nobody wanted to give up the feeling. Many of the players were the first to call it a night, needing to get some rest and sleep.

The score stayed on the scoreboard for a while longer, just in case nobody knew it. Nobody complained about the lights staying on or the noise since most of the town was involved in the celebration.

Finally, the lights were dimmed and scoreboard was turned off, forcing everybody to leave and continue their celebration elsewhere.

Most people moved on to the gym where the celebration continued. The booster club set up an impromptu celebration, serving drinks and letting everybody mingle and talk about the game.

Lucky passed through the crowd, shaking hands but was too tired to enjoy it. He had to call it a night, something Toni was not expecting.

“I had plans for us tonight,” she mentioned.

“We can put them off for one night,” he replied.

She nodded her head but was not overjoyed.

Sleep was elusive for Lucky, however. He showered and hit the bed, enjoying the feeling, too excited to sleep. He felt so fortunate. So many people played sports and never experienced a feeling like this. It wasn’t right, but that was life.

But he was still not satisfied. They had won the district championship but now it was time for bigger and better things as the playoffs would start the following week.

Chapter 41