Chapter 51
The excitement continued to build as the countdown to the semifinals progressed. There were special events every day and night, trying to build the excitement even higher.
Petros was in a frenzied state that had not been seen in years. It was all everybody talked about. The whole town was decorated with banners and signs urging the Panthers to victory.
All the cars and trucks were decorated with white shoe polish, also wishing the Panthers good luck. Everybody bought the latest tee-shirts urging the “Panthers to bite the Lions!”
There was a pep rally Thursday night at the stadium. The home bleachers filled an hour early. The team was out on the field, sitting on metal chairs. Cole and several players made speeches in between the band playing several songs.
The game wasn’t scheduled until Saturday so the extra day gave the players more time to get prepared, letting those tired legs rest even longer. Since Cole had gone with a light week of practice to allow the players more time to recover, the players were feeling better than they had in a long time.
As the week wrapped up, the practices really improved, despite some bad weather. Cole had hoped for dry weather, so naturally it was cold and damp all week.
D.J. started getting his timing back and would be a great benefit for the Panthers.
After the long week of waiting, Saturday finally arrived. The Panthers hopped in a bus early Saturday morning and made the long trip to Ada, stopping once at McAlester to take a break.
They arrived at Ada and went straight to the stadium. It was a nice field, one Cole played on many years before. It was nicer than most fields they played on, naturally, since it was a college field.
The players filed off the buses and went to the locker rooms to drop off their equipment. They put their equipment down then walked out on the field to test it out. As soon as they stepped out on the turf, a light rain started to fall, making it even cooler.
This would be the first time in years Petros played an afternoon game instead of at night. It felt different but Cole knew after the first hit, it would be just the same.
At the far end, a group of Honobia players started walking out on the field. The Lions were already dressed in their uniforms with red shirts, white numbers, helmets and pants. They walked to the middle of the field and stared at the Panthers.
The Petros players thought this was rather silly and stared back, not about to be intimidated.
One of the Honobia players walked even closer.
“What are you staring at?” he asked.
“Lunch,” Derwin answered, drawing laughter from his teammates.
“You’re going down,” the Honobia player added, nodding his head.
“We’ll take you with us then.”
Cole headed off the confrontation before it got serious, sending his players in to get dressed.
“You better be glad your coach saved you,” the Honobia player added.
“I’m not saving him,” Cole turned around and said. “I’m saving you.”
One of the Honobia assistants gathered up his players and scolded them for their behavior. It was not done very harshly so Cole though it was done for his sake.
While the Panthers retreated to the locker room to get dressed, Cole stood at the other end of the field, leaning against the pad on the goal post. He watched the Honobia players come on the field and do drills.
It was an impressive group. The Lions were big, strong and athletic. Cole had not seen many Class 2A teams that looked like this and felt sorry for the Class A teams Honobia had dominated in the previous years. He remembered the last game the Lions had lost was in the finals three years ago to the team Tatum coached to the championship.
Petros’ players started coming back out on the field. The Panthers were dressed in their usual road uniforms of white jerseys and helmets, black pants and numbers. Cole remembered that the last time Petros had advanced this far in the playoffs was Lloyd’s senior year.
Scoop walked up to Cole, the limp noticeable. He was fired up, of course, his enthusiasm evident with the black Petros jacket he wore, along with the white hat with the black “P” on the front and the black wind pants.
“Isn’t this exciting?” Scoop asked. “This is what we’ve been working for all year!”
Cole wondered about the “we” reference, not remembering Scoop going through all the practices when it was sizzling hot or freezing cold. But he knew Scoop thought he was a member of the team and that was okay with Cole.
He just nodded and patted Scoop on the back.
“Ooh, they’re big,” Scoop proclaimed, looking down the field at the opponents.
“Yeah, they are,” Cole agreed. “But I figure if David can take down Goliath, we can put down Honobia. Old David had a lot bigger fight on his hands, but he did have the Good Lord on his side and when you have that, anything’s possible.”
“Ooh, I like that!” Scoop exclaimed. “Can I use it?”
“If you feel like it’s appropriate,” Cole replied, hoping God was with his team today.
He looked up into the stands and saw a huge crowd quickly filling the seats. Petros had brought its usual large crowd, of course, with chartered buses, RVs, church buses and pretty much everything that could bring a person.
Honobia had a large crowd also. Cole decided if he was ever going to commit a crime in either Honobia or Petros, today would be a good day to do so as it seemed like both towns had been evacuated.
Cole just wished the weather was like it was the previous week. But it was just one more challenge for his guys.
“Can we win?” Scoop asked, a little doubt evident. Not that Cole would hold it against him, the team at the other end of the field was impressive.
“We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t think we could win,” Cole answered.
Scoop wished Cole good luck and walked toward the sidelines, each step making a small splash on the saturated grass.
Lucky felt good, nothing like he had earlier in the week. The easy practices and extra day was good for him. As he and his teammates went through stretching exercises, it was hard to contain his excitement. All his life he hoped to be in a situation like this. Even last night, he was so excited it was hard to sleep.
His brother had been here before and almost always came through, as had Tatum Sloan.
As the Panthers started running some plays, the footballs were a little damp but Lucky had no trouble throwing spirals. That would be important for the game plan his father devised.
Lucky could tell by how his teammates acted they knew Honobia was good. But the Panthers were not ready to hang up the equipment for the year. They were having too much fun.
He also noticed how big the Lions were. But Lucky decided the bigger they were, hopefully the harder they fell, just as long as they didn’t fall on him.
All the players were dressed out except for Garrett, who was still in the hospital. Earlier in the week, Cole doubted he would have a full crew after all the injuries the week before, but nobody else had to miss the game. Having D.J. back was a huge lift for his team.
As the warm-ups were completed, the players retreated back to the locker room one last time before the game started. Lucky saw Gabby at the corner of the field. She smiled and waved at him.
She had on a large jacket, black of course, along with a black hat. Lucky waved at her while jogging past.
Most of the players had already gotten a drink and sat down when Lucky arrived. He also had something to drink and sat down in a metal chair. He looked around the room and was amazed at these guys. Lucky had never expected to be in a game like this after the way the season started.
There was no laughter or joking now. It could easily be confused as a group preparing for a funeral, aside from the pads, naturally, and no crying.
Lucky felt so proud to be associated with these guys. This was a group that was certainly not the biggest or fastest, but they figured out a way to win ten straight after dropping the first three.
He wanted to win this game so badly, not wanting this feeling to end. There were a lot of guys in this room who would not be back next year and Lucky wanted to send them out as winners.
Cole finally walked to the front of the room, the only noise in the room his footsteps and the creaking noises made by the pads as the players shifted positions.
He was calm, at least in the beginning.
“All year I’ve asked you guys not to be afraid to succeed,” he stated. “We’ve lived up to that all year and I ask that from you again tonight.
“I’m not gonna to lie or mislead you by trying to tell you this game will be a pushover because I can assure you that it won’t. This is likely going to be the most physical game we’ve ever been in.”
Cole picked up his clipboard and started walking around, getting more intense with every step.
“But that doesn’t bother me,” he continued. “We’re warriors. I know that however hard we get hit, we’ll hit back harder and block them like they’ve never been blocked before.
“We’re not here to just be here and get beat. I expect to win this game.”
Cole walked across the room and put his hand on Derwin’s shoulder.
“I don’t want you to win this game for me, for Petros or for our school,” Cole added. “Win this one for your teammates and yourself.”
The players literally tore down the door, so anxious to get out on the field.
Cole and the coaches waited for the players to leave the room and then followed behind.
Tatum Sloan stood outside, waiting to wish Cole and the other coaches good luck. He had already shaken hands with many of the players as they filed outside. Cole saw him and gave Tatum a hug. They walked alongside each other, watching the players sprint down the spirit line.
“This reminds me of old times,” Tatum replied.
“Yeah, it does,” Cole agreed. “I just hope it ends like it used to when you played.”
“If I was a betting person, my money would be on you.”
“Thank you.”
“This is great,” Tatum commented.
“Yeah, it is,” Cole responded. “Why don’t you hang around our sideline and let me know if you see anything.”
“I’d be happy to do that.”
Cole had not seen the Petros fans so excited before a game since the last time the Panthers played in the state championship. He just hoped they would still be this excited after the game ended.
Derwin and Kenneth were captains for the Panthers. They took the field for the coin toss, meeting the Honobia captains. The players shook hands with each other and the officials. They listened to the officials’ instructions and waited for the coin flip. Since Petros was the visitors, Derwin got to call the coin.
He called “heads” and was rewarded when the coin landed with the head up. He told the officials the Panthers would defer until the second half.
Honobia elected to take the ball and the Panthers chose to take the light breeze.
Cole gathered his team around for final instructions.
His black hat was already soaked and water was dripping down from his bill.
“It’s time to go kick some rear,” Cole stated, smiling at his players. “They’re gonna try to intimidate us but don’t let that happen. Don’t wait for them to hit you. Be the aggressor and go pop them in the mouth.”
The kicking team jogged out on the field and lined up for the kickoff. Everybody in the stands stood and cheered loudly. It might be wet and cold, but nobody was bothered by the weather.
Jeremy waited for the officials to give him the go-ahead, then jogged forward and kicked the ball. His plant foot slipped on the wet grass, resulting in a short kick.
All eyes watched the flight of the ball, missing the contact between the first row of Honobia blockers and the Petros players. The Panthers had heard all week about how tough and hard-hitting Honobia’s players were and wanted to show the Lions they weren’t the only ones who knew how to hit.
The contact was intense. The popping of the pads could be heard throughout the stadium. Ichabod had instructed his kicking team to do this, wanting to send a message to the Lions. The receiving team was usually able to deliver the blows while the coverage team was more worried about finding the returner.
But that wasn’t the case this time. Petros’ players were more concerned with finding somebody to hit and try to inflict as much punishment as possible. All the Panthers went after the blockers, knocking several of the Lions to the ground. It was like a boxer throwing the first punch before an opponent was ready.
It caught the Lions off guard. The ball was fielded at the 18 and the runner started up the middle. He made it to the 29 before Harry slipped past a blocker, dove and knocked the Honobia player’s legs out from under him.
Honobia lined up in its usual I-formation and tried to shove the ball right down the Panthers’ throats, like the Lions had against all their other opponents.
The Lions were confident, of course, since nobody had stopped them all year and there was such a huge difference in size between the two teams. Honobia had handled teams with much bigger lines than Petros and expected to dominate again.
Just like a message had been sent on the kickoff, another subtle one was sent on the first play. Honobia’s line blew off the ball, ready to blow the Panthers away.
The only problem was the Panthers would not allow it. They stood up to the blockers and maintained their position. The tailback got a handoff right up the middle, but a hole never developed and he was swarmed over for a small loss.
On second down, the play was the same song, second verse. Ichabod called a blitz, this time using Tim Treadway to crash. He rocketed into the backfield and hit the tailback right after he took the handoff. It was another loss for a team not used to going backwards.
Honobia tried a pass on third down. The Panthers’ coverage was so good, no receiver could break open. Seeing this and feeling the pressure, the quarterback took off.
He eluded one defender but as he reached the original line of scrimmage, Derwin came at him going full speed, lowered his helmet and looked like a missile as he slammed into the quarterback, hitting him so hard the Honobia player seemed to melt into the ground.
Derwin’s helmet hit right next to the ball, forcing it free. He could not recover quickly enough, though, and one of Honobia’s linemen fell on the loose ball.
His teammates swarmed over Derwin. The celebration was mild until they realized the quarterback was not hurt. He had a rough time getting up from the hit, however. The Panthers had forced a three-and-out and Honobia was going to punt. As the punt-return team huddled up, Cole hurried down the sidelines to Ichabod.
“Go after it,” he directed.
Ichabod relayed the instructions. The Panthers lined up ten players on the line to go after the punt. As the ball was snapped, the Panthers came hard, leaving only Skip back to return the punt.
It is impossible to block every punt, of course. But a team does not always have to actually get a piece of the ball for it to be a good play. Petros did not block the punt. But the pressure forced the punter to hurry, resulting in a kick that went off the side of his foot and only traveled twenty-two yards before rolling across the sidelines.
The poor kick gave Petros the ball just short of midfield.
Cole quickly sent in a play, wondering how surprised everybody would be when they realized what was happening. The Panthers came out in the shotgun. They had one running back in the backfield with Lucky, lining up Happy to block if needed. There were four other players spread out wide.
Lucky barked the signals quickly, hoping to get the play started while Honobia was still getting its defense adjusted to the formation.
He took the snap and faked the handoff to Happy. Other than special teams, Cole had seen one area where Honobia seemed to have a weakness and he was going after it.
Lucky started looking over his receivers, not bothering to look at his intended target until it was time. Finally, he looked back to his left where Skip was sprinting down the field. The cornerback was trying to stay close to him, but found it difficult. Lucky waited one last second before throwing the ball.
With the ball in the air, Skip actually sped up, extending his lead over the cornerback. The pass was off just a little, causing Skip to angle back toward the center of the field.
It was the only thing that kept him from scoring. It slowed Skip down just enough that after he hauled in the pass, the cornerback caught up and brought him down just inside the 20.
With the crowd going crazy, the Panthers went directly to the line, not bothering to huddle. Skip and Andy changed sides, leaving Andy as the only receiver on that side.
Lucky took the snap and dropped back three steps. The cornerback covering Andy knew what was coming and tried to keep the receiver at the line by grabbing and pushing.
Andy used his size and strength to break free and took off down the field, angling toward the corner of the end zone. Lucky waited until the time was right and lobbed the ball.
The pass floated through the air, a tight spiral that seemed to go in slow motion. It arced high in the air, kept its height for a brief period then began its ascent just past the goal-line. Andy had a seven-inch height advantage and all the defensive back could hope to do was try to knock the ball away or make it so Andy could not catch it.
Honobia’s cornerback tried to knock the ball away, a poor decision. Andy’s hands were at least a foot higher than the defensive back’s. He grabbed the ball and covered it up while bringing it down, not letting the cornerback knock it loose.
The Panthers started celebrating, but an official’s whistle ended it quickly. They turned around to see what was happening and saw a yellow flag littering the ground next to where the referee stood, waving his arms.
Judging from where the flag was dropped, Cole knew this was not good. It was either holding or one of the Lions roughed the quarterback. The referee informed the other officials of his call, then walked away from the crowd and looked up at the press box.
He signaled holding and pointed at Petros’ end of the field.
The Panthers retreated back and waited for the ball to be marked. D.J. came in to take Happy’s place during the break. As soon as the officials gave their okay, Lucky started barking signals. The snap was a little low but he fielded it cleanly. He dropped back once again, but this time handed off to D.J. on a draw.
It was a good call and fooled everybody except one of the linebackers. He nailed D.J. just when it looked like there was going to be plenty of running room. The hit was hard enough it looked like D.J. was clotheslined.
The linebacker jumped to his feet and stood over D.J., pounding his chest like a gorilla, not letting D.J. rise to his feet.
It was an act that didn’t set well with the Panthers. Left tackle Todd Benton, normally mild-mannered, was so angry he ran over and shoved the Honobia linebacker away from D.J.
The referee was standing nearby and saw everything. As soon as there was a shove, he reached down, grabbed his flag and threw it high in the air.
Cole was not happy. He seldom protested anything, but was not the least bit happy with this call. He came roaring out on the field, trying to get one of the officials to discuss the call. The referee signaled a personal foul against the Panthers and ruled it a dead ball. This put the Panthers back fifteen more yards and resulted in a loss of down.
Cole continued to try and talk with one of the officials but the whole crew ignored him. They did not ignore everything from the sidelines, however.
“What a bunch of idiots,” Lloyd said, shaking his head.
The word “idiots” had barely left his mouth before the line judge grabbed his flag and tossed it. Cole was amazed the officials would not pay any attention when he was hollering at them, but Lloyd said one word and it caught their attention.
It was another fifteen-yard penalty, the first time Cole ever had a team penalized for somebody on the sidelines saying something.
Cole’s blood pressure was flying high as he stood on the field and glared at the official. He was steamed at them still, but also at Lloyd for what he said.
Lloyd regretted the comment and knew it was a mistake. It might be the truth, but that was no excuse. He knew his father would reinforce that message. All Cole did was give Lloyd a dirty look when the officials would not look at him.
Lucky got his team to huddle and tried to get control of the players. They were all upset, just like the coaches. He finally got everybody quiet enough to call the play.
The Lions had a pretty good idea what was coming and came hard. Lucky was sacked even before he had a chance to get rid of the pass and was forced to throw the ball away on the next play.
For the Panthers, a drive that appeared to end in a touchdown would instead be a goose egg as Petros was forced to punt.
Jeremy’s punt was downed at the Honobia 15, again leaving the Lions with poor field position.
Petros took out its frustration on the Lions. Honobia struggled again, only gaining two yards in three plays.
Cole was pleased with the play of his defense, knowing this was the first time all year anybody had stood up to the Lions and fought back.
The Panthers went after the punt again, narrowly missing it. The punt rolled to a stop at the Petros 43, again giving the Panthers good field position.
As the offense took the field, Cole pulled Lucky aside.
“They’re gonna know we’re passing and will come after you,” Cole instructed. “You need to get rid of the ball quick.”
Lucky nodded, already knowing the Panthers needed to start running short routes and screens to negate the pass rush.
The Lions were ready for the pass now. Realizing this, Lucky changed the play at the line and handed off to D.J. on another draw. Honobia came hard again, only to see D.J. go past in the opposite direction. He hit the hole so quick the Lions could not react.
D.J. sprinted past the linebackers and reached the secondary before Honobia brought him down. This play surprised Cole, who had not expected the Panthers to have much success running the ball.
He decided to go with his usual formation and put Skip and D.J. in the backfield. It was the first time the two had shared the backfield since D.J.’s injury.
A dive to Skip had the same results, picking up eight yards. Lucky kept the offense at the line and snapped the ball quickly again before Honobia adjusted. He faked the dive to D.J., then followed in behind his teammate.
There was a good hole again, thanks to the fake and good blocking. He veered outside and found some running room. His run was good for another ten yards before the Lions shoved him out of bounds. Petros had found something that worked and the Panthers continued to milk it, quickly driving down the field until reaching the Honobia 10.
No team had scored in the first half on Honobia all season. The Panthers wanted to end that streak, of course, but then the defense stiffened. The Panthers tried two running plays that gained nothing and a pass on third down was batted down at the line, forcing a field goal.
The Panthers lined up for the field goal. The snap was good, as was the placement. But as Jeremy planted his left foot, he slipped again and was falling backwards as his other foot met the ball.
The ball never got high enough to clear the line. The ball hit one of the Lions in the facemask and went straight down.
Cole expected some disappointment from his players and hoped this would not slow the momentum. He knew his team would not get many chances to score and the Panthers had already missed two.
The Lions’ offense tried pounding away at the Panthers again. Petros stuffed the first two plays. On third down, Honobia went with another pass. The Panthers came hard after the quarterback, pinned him in the backfield and tossed him to the ground.
The defense celebrated another apparent three-and-out, but there was a flag on the play. Tim Treadway was called for grabbing the quarterback’s facemask, even though he was one of the few players who did not get close to the quarterback.
None of the Panthers had a clue who the penalty could be on but it didn’t matter as the Lions had their initial first down. The momentum had swung to Honobia as the first quarter ended.
Cole had read somewhere that Honobia had scored in every quarter of every game. He knew that was one streak that had just ended, hoping it was one of many.
Even with some of the momentum gone, the Panthers’ defense refused to soften, the resolve just as strong. Three running plays only netted five yards and it was time to punt again.
Lloyd pulled Harry aside as he started out on the field for the punt.
“Stop messing around and go block that punt,” he ordered.
“I haven’t been messing around, sir,” Harry argued.
“Have you blocked a punt yet?”
“Well, no.”
“Then you’ve been messing around,” countered Lloyd, a little uncomfortable that somebody actually called him “sir”. It was a first and it hit him hard. Next thing you know, people will be calling him “mister”, he worried, shaking his head. Lloyd didn’t feel like a sir or a mister.
Harry looked back at Lloyd as he sprinted out on the field.
“Okay,” he added.
The two teams lined up for the punt. Petros again had ten players stacked up at the line. Harry was on the right end, just back off the line. He acted like it was his duty to watch for a fake but kept edging closer to the line, always looking back toward the middle of the field for the first movement of the ball. By the time the ball was snapped, he was at the line and going all out.
Nobody laid a finger on him. He was past the upback and into the backfield as the ball reached the punter. It was now a race to see if the punter could get the kick off before Harry got close enough to block the punt.
This time, the punter lost. Harry arrived just as the punter dropped the ball. He dove and hit the punter in the midsection, keeping the punter from ever kicking the ball. The loose football bounced backwards. Harry climbed off the punter and scrambled to the ball, arriving just before several other players dove for it.
Harry fell on the ball, knocking the wind out of him before all the other players arrived and landed on top of him. He never let go, holding on for dear life.
As the crowd was pulled apart, the officials saw it was Petros’ ball and pointed toward Honobia’s end zone, again giving the Panthers’ crowd a reason to celebrate. Harry was still having trouble breathing as his teammates pulled him up.
He made it two steps before having to go back down on a knee.
The coaches started to come on the field but Harry waved them off, knowing his breath would return quickly.
Petros had the ball on Honobia’s 23. It was another golden opportunity for the Panthers to score and take the lead.
Lucky knew what the play would be even before his father called it. They would go for the throat with a play-action pass. It was the perfect call as far as Lucky was concerned. The Lions would be frustrated after the blocked kick and be aggressive, hopefully leaving them open to give up a big play.
Lucky relayed the call and the Panthers came to the line in the usual split-back set. Lucky got the snap and faked the dive to D.J., took two more steps down the line to make the defense think the option was coming, then quickly dropped back into the backfield.
Harry started slowly off the line, also selling the play as an option as it looked like he was searching for somebody to block. But Harry slid past the cornerback, still jogging until getting behind the safety.
He then turned on the speed, easily getting behind the defense.
Lucky could not remember seeing one of his receivers that open. He planted his foot and started to toss the ball down the field. The play had touchdown written all over it. But just as Lucky’s arm started forward, one of the Lions broke through and hit him square in the back, causing the ball to shoot straight up. Players on both teams started spinning around, trying to find the ball. But the only player who saw it was Honobia’s middle linebacker.
He timed the ball’s descent perfectly, catching the ball while going full speed. He got off to a big lead as none of the Panthers realized he had the ball until it was too late.
Lucky could only lie on the ground, watching the number 55 get smaller as the linebacker ran away.
Skip was the only Petros player with a chance to catch him but was at a disadvantage from being so far behind and finally gave up and watched the celebration begin.
The Panthers were stunned by the play and slowly jogged down the field. Lucky was the last player to get up as the hit took the breath out of him.
Danny Wall and Price House were having a heated conversation as they jogged down the field over who missed the block, each player blaming the other.
“It doesn’t matter now,” Lucky told them. “It was my fault. I should have gotten rid of the ball sooner. We were in a zone block on that play. Whoever was in front of you is who you block.”
Stub hollered at the two linemen to come to the sidelines where he could straighten everything out. He was disappointed about the missed block, of course, but after the assignments were straightened out, he chewed the players out for arguing with each other, especially on the field.
“It won’t happen again,” said Danny.
“That’s right,” Price echoed.
“Good,” Stub stated. “Now kiss and make up.”
The two players looked at each other, wondering if they heard their coach correctly.
“Do what?” asked Danny.
“You’re kidding,” exclaimed Price. “Right?”
“I think he’s serious,” said D.J., standing nearby. “Just don’t use any tongue.”
Danny wanted to inform D.J. on what the sophomore could do with his suggestion but had to get out on the field for the kickoff return.
Cole was disappointed with the outcome of the play. He did not regret the call one bit, however, knowing that if Lucky had gotten just a little more time, Petros would be leading instead of Honobia.
He watched the kickoff sail through the gray skies, his face getting pelted by the raindrops while looking up. Kenneth caught the ball at the 10 and slowly made his way up the field, made a sharp cut at the 20 and reached the 37 before getting brought down.
The offense took the field. This time, Petros’ line started losing the battle up front against the bigger Lions. The holes were shrinking quickly and the Panthers’ backs had trouble finding places to run. After two short runs, Cole tried something different on third down.
Lucky took the snap and tossed the ball back to Skip, who sprinted toward the sideline then handed back to Harry, coming back the opposite direction on a reverse. The play fooled the Lions and worked good enough to give Petros a first down.
Cole felt the players tiring, wondering what would be happening if the Panthers had scored earlier. The players would be a little less tired and the momentum would still be on their side.
After the previous play ended, Lucky saw Honobia’s end was shaken up and had to go to the bench. The end’s replacement was a tall thin player looking like he did not weigh 160 pounds, nothing like the stud he replaced.
Lucky decided to test the new end quickly. He audibled and switched to a power play over the left side to D.J. He received the snap and turned to put the ball in D.J.’s belly. Just as soon as the ball was there, Lucky pulled it back out.
He stood still for a second, looking back and watched D.J. pound into the line. If any of the Lions realized Lucky had the ball, they could have taken his head off. But nobody figured it out and Lucky slowly turned to see if the replacement end had made the mistake of following D.J.
The end had taken the bait, leaving Lucky with plenty of room. He rolled in the direction and found nothing but the dormant wet grass ahead of him. Lucky was all by himself, sprinting down the field, some twenty yards down the field when he heard the first whistle blow, followed quickly by another.
Lucky knew there had to be some kind of mistake and continued down the field. The Petros side saw Lucky running by himself toward the end zone and started celebrating, only a few noticing something was not right.
They saw the officials back at the line running to the pile at the middle of the field. All the officials were looking in that direction aside from the one official trying to keep pace with Lucky, but having a difficult time thanks to advanced age and the extra forty pounds of weight around the midsection.
Cole realized quickly what happened. The fake had been so good it fooled all the Honobia players, but also tricked the officials into believing D.J. had the ball and was tackled.
The Petros side started protesting immediately, making the officials wonder what happened. Cole and the coaches were pointing down the field as Lucky crossed into the end zone. The officials were confused, looking into the pile for the football.
“How come you blew the whistle?” asked D.J. “I never had the ball.”
Two officials looked at each other, a look of concern growing on their face. One of the officials looked down the field and saw Lucky holding the ball aloft in the end zone. He got the referee’s attention and pointed toward Lucky.
“Uh, oh,” said the younger official.
“That’s not good,” another official added.
The referee waved his arms to stop the clock and gathered all the officials around him, including the one who followed Lucky and now had to run all the way back up the field. He was wheezing badly after finally arriving at the huddle.
The officials consulted for a moment then reached an agreement. The huddle broke up and the referee came to the sideline, looking much like a child coming to a parent after getting in trouble.
“Coach, we messed up on the play,” the official stated, surprising Cole with his honesty. “The fake was so good we thought the running back had the ball and blew the whistle when he went down. We apologize for that but we have to mark the ball back where we blew the whistle.”
Cole knew that, but certainly didn’t like it. But he also knew there wasn’t any reason to argue. Those were the rules and the officials had just made a bad mistake.
The referee turned and jogged back out on the field. The Petros fans realized what happened and showed their displeasure with the call, booing and hollering insults at the officials.
Cole quickly turned to the bleachers and waved his arms, trying to get the fans to quit. Most of them obeyed, although a few continued getting on the officials.
Petros’ players were also complaining in the huddle about the bad break. Lucky was a little out of breath and did not want to hear this.
“We’re gonna have to drop it,” Lucky ordered. “Those things happen. It’s not gonna help us to stand around griping and complaining. We need to forget about it and play some football.”
Lucky’s speech brought a little sense of control. Petros was then forced to punt. Jeremy let go with a boomer considering the field conditions, sending the returner all the way back to his 20. The punt was returned back to the 30 before the coverage overwhelmed him.
Honobia’s offense had gotten ripped apart on the sidelines by the coaches, especially the line. The Lions had heard all they cared to hear and came to life. The offense started looking like they had in all the other games, rolling over the defense like a tornado smashing through a mobile home park.
Ichabod tried everything but could not slow down the drive. The only thing that looked like it could keep Honobia out of the end zone was the clock.
Most of the plays were blasts right up the gut. Honobia reached the Petros 5 and had a first and goal. The clock showed just under two minutes remaining.
Cole knew they had to do something or Honobia would score easily. The Panthers were getting pushed around and had to get more physical. The answer hit Cole and he called for time just as the Lions came to the line.
He hollered for Happy, who came sprinting toward his coach. Happy already had his helmet on and was buttoning his chinstrap.
“Tim, we’re gonna give you a break for the rest of the series,” Cole instructed. “We’ve gotta get a little stronger up the middle.”
Tim nodded and stepped out of the huddle. Tim knew he was giving everything, but was having trouble against those huge blockers pounding away at him. Plus, he needed a break. He was more of a speed player and more effective against quicker teams.
The Panthers took the field with Derwin, Happy and Murray Perdue at linebacker. Honobia went back to the same play, trying to pound into the end zone.
There was a difference this time, though. Happy read the play quickly and moved ahead to take on the blocker and refused to give ground, standing up the guard and blocking the hole. The back picked up one yard, but it was all because of his effort and was lucky to get that.
Second down netted two more yards, getting Honobia down to the 2. It was third down and two yards to go for a touchdown that would practically break the Panthers’ backs.
The big fullback blasted ahead on third down, finding a small gap. Gary saw the play developing and moved quickly into the hole, met the fullback and delivered a hit that sent the fullback reeling backwards.
For a player not known for big hits, Gary had just came through with one of the biggest of the season.
Honobia called time. It was fourth down and the ball was resting less than a yard from the end zone.
Many coaches would choose the safe play here, kicking a field goal to go ahead by two scores. Cole knew Honobia’s coach was too proud for that and would go for the touchdown.
Ichabod told the defense to come out in a goal-line defense and made sure the best linemen were on the field.
“We’ve got to penetrate into the backfield,” Ichabod stressed, shoving his glasses back up the huge nose. “The tailback’s going to come right at you.”
Ichabod would probably run the quarterback sneak if he was calling the plays for Honobia, but knew the tailback was the coach’s son and he would give him the ball to pad his boy’s stats.
The two teams took the field for the last play of the first half. Petros’ linemen crouched down as low as possible, trying to get below the opposing linemen. Petros was going with six linemen, three linebackers and two defensive backs, Lucky and Skip.
The defensive backs were basically extra linebackers as they lined up close to the tight ends, not worrying about a pass.
Honobia did come with the expected run, a blast ahead by the tailback over the right side. Petros’ linemen fired off low and hard at the snap, getting below the blockers.
Happy and Derwin read the play quickly and raced forward, trying to get to the hole first. Derwin got there first, leaping over the tangled linemen like a missile that had just been fired. The collision occurred in the backfield, even before the running back got back to the line. Lucky and Skip were right behind, making sure the running back could not escape.
The Panthers started celebrating even before the whistle blew, but it was short lived. The lineman came running in, waving his arms and prevented the players from leaving the field. All eyes went to that side of the field and saw a flag on the ground.
All the officials huddled up and discussed the play. The referee stood in the middle of the huddle with his arms crossed, nodding while listening to the other officials.
He was satisfied with the explanation and left the huddle. He walked away from everybody and put both hands on his hips then pointed toward the Petros side. It was offsides on Petros and gave Honobia another chance.
The officials ruled one of the Panthers had crossed the line before the ball was snapped or lined up offsides. Naturally, Petros’ side was not pleased with this call, since it was another in a long string of calls that hurt the Panthers.
Honobia quickly lined up while the Panthers were disorganized. As soon as the umpire backed away, the center snapped the ball. Petros’ players were not lined up and scrambled to get set before the play started.
This time, the quarterback kept the ball on a sneak and dove forward, easily scoring without any of the Panthers touching him.
The extra point was good, giving the Lions a 14-0 lead as the teams retreated to the dressing rooms.
Cole was not the type to verbally abuse an official or lose his temper. But as he left the field, Cole made sure to cross paths with the referee.
“You planning on nailing us all night?” he asked. “You’ve stuck it to us all night.”
The referee was aware several calls had gone against Petros. He did not know if the Panthers had been offsides on the one play. Whether it was the right call, he had no idea. The officials had erred on Lucky’s run and admitted it.
“Your guy was across the line,” the linesman said.
“Which one was it?” Cole demanded, his anger rising.
“I don’t know. It was one of your linemen.”
“Give me a number.”
The official looked like a deer caught in the headlights.
“I couldn’t tell the number,” he admitted.
“I didn’t see anybody jump,” Cole stated, jogging along with the officials.
“Uh, he lined up offsides.”
“How much?”
The referee was getting upset now. They had gone almost half the field with this coach nagging them.
“It doesn’t matter, Coach,” the referee advised. “You know the rules. If you line up offsides, we have to drop a flag.”
The officials veered off to their dressing room, leaving Cole alone out on the field.
Cole shook his head and continued jogging toward his team’s locker room. His players were a little despondent as he entered. They were complaining about the officials, the field, just about everything they could think of.
“It’s hard to beat those guys and the dang refs!” shouted Scoop, who had slipped into the locker room to get a drink and joined in the bellyaching.
Cole got a drink and let the players continue for a few moments. Finally, he had enough.
“All I hear is you guys talking about how the refs did this or did that,” Cole mentioned. “That stuff doesn’t matter. You should be talking about what it’ll take for us to come back and win this game, not about stuff we don’t have any control over.”
If Cole had walked around the room and slapped each player on the face, it would not have held their attention any better.
“I didn’t care much for those calls either,” he continued. “But right now that doesn’t mean a hill of beans. We gotta let it go. We can’t change what happened. We need to spend our time and energy on how to win this game, not griping like a bunch of women.
“You’re acting like we’re behind by fifty points and don’t have a shot. We’re only down two touchdowns and we’ve come back several times this year. You guys know it and so does Honobia’s players. We were the better team the first half, I don’t care what the scoreboard says. We’re two quarters away from playing in the state championship game.”
Cole let that sink in, looking around the room at all the players. There was not a sound in the room, other than Scoop flushing the toilet.
Scoop emerged from the bathroom and saw all eyes were on him.
“Sorry,” he said. “Had to go.”
“That’s what we’re playing for,” Cole added, trying to ignore Scoop. “We outscore Honobia by fifteen points this half and we go to Stillwater next week.”
He certainly had the players’ focus back on the game by reminding them what they were playing for. Despite the score, Cole had no doubt they would come through. He knew his team was playing a great team, but it was just a feeling Cole got while looking around the room at his guys, many of them wet and covered with mud.
The other coaches took over and made a few adjustments before giving the players a couple of minutes before they had to go back out on the field.
The griping had gone by the wayside. Now, the players sat, only worrying about winning this half and the game. When it was finally time to take the field, the Panthers came tearing out of the locker room, ready to get back in the game.
Tatum was waiting for Cole as he left the locker room and started walking with him.
“How are they?” Tatum asked.
“Okay, now,” Cole answered. “They were a little upset with the officiating until we talked it over.”
“That’s what I figured. Honobia’s tough but I feel like we’re going to win.”
“So do I,” Cole agreed, looking up at the dark clouds and feeling the rain hit him in the face. It was now raining harder with no signs of slacking up. “I just wish we were playing on a dry field.”
“Well, good luck,” Tatum added, started to walk away then stopped. “I don’t think they can handle your option.”
Cole nodded, at this point willing to try anything.
Chapter 52
Petros was in a frenzied state that had not been seen in years. It was all everybody talked about. The whole town was decorated with banners and signs urging the Panthers to victory.
All the cars and trucks were decorated with white shoe polish, also wishing the Panthers good luck. Everybody bought the latest tee-shirts urging the “Panthers to bite the Lions!”
There was a pep rally Thursday night at the stadium. The home bleachers filled an hour early. The team was out on the field, sitting on metal chairs. Cole and several players made speeches in between the band playing several songs.
The game wasn’t scheduled until Saturday so the extra day gave the players more time to get prepared, letting those tired legs rest even longer. Since Cole had gone with a light week of practice to allow the players more time to recover, the players were feeling better than they had in a long time.
As the week wrapped up, the practices really improved, despite some bad weather. Cole had hoped for dry weather, so naturally it was cold and damp all week.
D.J. started getting his timing back and would be a great benefit for the Panthers.
After the long week of waiting, Saturday finally arrived. The Panthers hopped in a bus early Saturday morning and made the long trip to Ada, stopping once at McAlester to take a break.
They arrived at Ada and went straight to the stadium. It was a nice field, one Cole played on many years before. It was nicer than most fields they played on, naturally, since it was a college field.
The players filed off the buses and went to the locker rooms to drop off their equipment. They put their equipment down then walked out on the field to test it out. As soon as they stepped out on the turf, a light rain started to fall, making it even cooler.
This would be the first time in years Petros played an afternoon game instead of at night. It felt different but Cole knew after the first hit, it would be just the same.
At the far end, a group of Honobia players started walking out on the field. The Lions were already dressed in their uniforms with red shirts, white numbers, helmets and pants. They walked to the middle of the field and stared at the Panthers.
The Petros players thought this was rather silly and stared back, not about to be intimidated.
One of the Honobia players walked even closer.
“What are you staring at?” he asked.
“Lunch,” Derwin answered, drawing laughter from his teammates.
“You’re going down,” the Honobia player added, nodding his head.
“We’ll take you with us then.”
Cole headed off the confrontation before it got serious, sending his players in to get dressed.
“You better be glad your coach saved you,” the Honobia player added.
“I’m not saving him,” Cole turned around and said. “I’m saving you.”
One of the Honobia assistants gathered up his players and scolded them for their behavior. It was not done very harshly so Cole though it was done for his sake.
While the Panthers retreated to the locker room to get dressed, Cole stood at the other end of the field, leaning against the pad on the goal post. He watched the Honobia players come on the field and do drills.
It was an impressive group. The Lions were big, strong and athletic. Cole had not seen many Class 2A teams that looked like this and felt sorry for the Class A teams Honobia had dominated in the previous years. He remembered the last game the Lions had lost was in the finals three years ago to the team Tatum coached to the championship.
Petros’ players started coming back out on the field. The Panthers were dressed in their usual road uniforms of white jerseys and helmets, black pants and numbers. Cole remembered that the last time Petros had advanced this far in the playoffs was Lloyd’s senior year.
Scoop walked up to Cole, the limp noticeable. He was fired up, of course, his enthusiasm evident with the black Petros jacket he wore, along with the white hat with the black “P” on the front and the black wind pants.
“Isn’t this exciting?” Scoop asked. “This is what we’ve been working for all year!”
Cole wondered about the “we” reference, not remembering Scoop going through all the practices when it was sizzling hot or freezing cold. But he knew Scoop thought he was a member of the team and that was okay with Cole.
He just nodded and patted Scoop on the back.
“Ooh, they’re big,” Scoop proclaimed, looking down the field at the opponents.
“Yeah, they are,” Cole agreed. “But I figure if David can take down Goliath, we can put down Honobia. Old David had a lot bigger fight on his hands, but he did have the Good Lord on his side and when you have that, anything’s possible.”
“Ooh, I like that!” Scoop exclaimed. “Can I use it?”
“If you feel like it’s appropriate,” Cole replied, hoping God was with his team today.
He looked up into the stands and saw a huge crowd quickly filling the seats. Petros had brought its usual large crowd, of course, with chartered buses, RVs, church buses and pretty much everything that could bring a person.
Honobia had a large crowd also. Cole decided if he was ever going to commit a crime in either Honobia or Petros, today would be a good day to do so as it seemed like both towns had been evacuated.
Cole just wished the weather was like it was the previous week. But it was just one more challenge for his guys.
“Can we win?” Scoop asked, a little doubt evident. Not that Cole would hold it against him, the team at the other end of the field was impressive.
“We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t think we could win,” Cole answered.
Scoop wished Cole good luck and walked toward the sidelines, each step making a small splash on the saturated grass.
Lucky felt good, nothing like he had earlier in the week. The easy practices and extra day was good for him. As he and his teammates went through stretching exercises, it was hard to contain his excitement. All his life he hoped to be in a situation like this. Even last night, he was so excited it was hard to sleep.
His brother had been here before and almost always came through, as had Tatum Sloan.
As the Panthers started running some plays, the footballs were a little damp but Lucky had no trouble throwing spirals. That would be important for the game plan his father devised.
Lucky could tell by how his teammates acted they knew Honobia was good. But the Panthers were not ready to hang up the equipment for the year. They were having too much fun.
He also noticed how big the Lions were. But Lucky decided the bigger they were, hopefully the harder they fell, just as long as they didn’t fall on him.
All the players were dressed out except for Garrett, who was still in the hospital. Earlier in the week, Cole doubted he would have a full crew after all the injuries the week before, but nobody else had to miss the game. Having D.J. back was a huge lift for his team.
As the warm-ups were completed, the players retreated back to the locker room one last time before the game started. Lucky saw Gabby at the corner of the field. She smiled and waved at him.
She had on a large jacket, black of course, along with a black hat. Lucky waved at her while jogging past.
Most of the players had already gotten a drink and sat down when Lucky arrived. He also had something to drink and sat down in a metal chair. He looked around the room and was amazed at these guys. Lucky had never expected to be in a game like this after the way the season started.
There was no laughter or joking now. It could easily be confused as a group preparing for a funeral, aside from the pads, naturally, and no crying.
Lucky felt so proud to be associated with these guys. This was a group that was certainly not the biggest or fastest, but they figured out a way to win ten straight after dropping the first three.
He wanted to win this game so badly, not wanting this feeling to end. There were a lot of guys in this room who would not be back next year and Lucky wanted to send them out as winners.
Cole finally walked to the front of the room, the only noise in the room his footsteps and the creaking noises made by the pads as the players shifted positions.
He was calm, at least in the beginning.
“All year I’ve asked you guys not to be afraid to succeed,” he stated. “We’ve lived up to that all year and I ask that from you again tonight.
“I’m not gonna to lie or mislead you by trying to tell you this game will be a pushover because I can assure you that it won’t. This is likely going to be the most physical game we’ve ever been in.”
Cole picked up his clipboard and started walking around, getting more intense with every step.
“But that doesn’t bother me,” he continued. “We’re warriors. I know that however hard we get hit, we’ll hit back harder and block them like they’ve never been blocked before.
“We’re not here to just be here and get beat. I expect to win this game.”
Cole walked across the room and put his hand on Derwin’s shoulder.
“I don’t want you to win this game for me, for Petros or for our school,” Cole added. “Win this one for your teammates and yourself.”
The players literally tore down the door, so anxious to get out on the field.
Cole and the coaches waited for the players to leave the room and then followed behind.
Tatum Sloan stood outside, waiting to wish Cole and the other coaches good luck. He had already shaken hands with many of the players as they filed outside. Cole saw him and gave Tatum a hug. They walked alongside each other, watching the players sprint down the spirit line.
“This reminds me of old times,” Tatum replied.
“Yeah, it does,” Cole agreed. “I just hope it ends like it used to when you played.”
“If I was a betting person, my money would be on you.”
“Thank you.”
“This is great,” Tatum commented.
“Yeah, it is,” Cole responded. “Why don’t you hang around our sideline and let me know if you see anything.”
“I’d be happy to do that.”
Cole had not seen the Petros fans so excited before a game since the last time the Panthers played in the state championship. He just hoped they would still be this excited after the game ended.
Derwin and Kenneth were captains for the Panthers. They took the field for the coin toss, meeting the Honobia captains. The players shook hands with each other and the officials. They listened to the officials’ instructions and waited for the coin flip. Since Petros was the visitors, Derwin got to call the coin.
He called “heads” and was rewarded when the coin landed with the head up. He told the officials the Panthers would defer until the second half.
Honobia elected to take the ball and the Panthers chose to take the light breeze.
Cole gathered his team around for final instructions.
His black hat was already soaked and water was dripping down from his bill.
“It’s time to go kick some rear,” Cole stated, smiling at his players. “They’re gonna try to intimidate us but don’t let that happen. Don’t wait for them to hit you. Be the aggressor and go pop them in the mouth.”
The kicking team jogged out on the field and lined up for the kickoff. Everybody in the stands stood and cheered loudly. It might be wet and cold, but nobody was bothered by the weather.
Jeremy waited for the officials to give him the go-ahead, then jogged forward and kicked the ball. His plant foot slipped on the wet grass, resulting in a short kick.
All eyes watched the flight of the ball, missing the contact between the first row of Honobia blockers and the Petros players. The Panthers had heard all week about how tough and hard-hitting Honobia’s players were and wanted to show the Lions they weren’t the only ones who knew how to hit.
The contact was intense. The popping of the pads could be heard throughout the stadium. Ichabod had instructed his kicking team to do this, wanting to send a message to the Lions. The receiving team was usually able to deliver the blows while the coverage team was more worried about finding the returner.
But that wasn’t the case this time. Petros’ players were more concerned with finding somebody to hit and try to inflict as much punishment as possible. All the Panthers went after the blockers, knocking several of the Lions to the ground. It was like a boxer throwing the first punch before an opponent was ready.
It caught the Lions off guard. The ball was fielded at the 18 and the runner started up the middle. He made it to the 29 before Harry slipped past a blocker, dove and knocked the Honobia player’s legs out from under him.
Honobia lined up in its usual I-formation and tried to shove the ball right down the Panthers’ throats, like the Lions had against all their other opponents.
The Lions were confident, of course, since nobody had stopped them all year and there was such a huge difference in size between the two teams. Honobia had handled teams with much bigger lines than Petros and expected to dominate again.
Just like a message had been sent on the kickoff, another subtle one was sent on the first play. Honobia’s line blew off the ball, ready to blow the Panthers away.
The only problem was the Panthers would not allow it. They stood up to the blockers and maintained their position. The tailback got a handoff right up the middle, but a hole never developed and he was swarmed over for a small loss.
On second down, the play was the same song, second verse. Ichabod called a blitz, this time using Tim Treadway to crash. He rocketed into the backfield and hit the tailback right after he took the handoff. It was another loss for a team not used to going backwards.
Honobia tried a pass on third down. The Panthers’ coverage was so good, no receiver could break open. Seeing this and feeling the pressure, the quarterback took off.
He eluded one defender but as he reached the original line of scrimmage, Derwin came at him going full speed, lowered his helmet and looked like a missile as he slammed into the quarterback, hitting him so hard the Honobia player seemed to melt into the ground.
Derwin’s helmet hit right next to the ball, forcing it free. He could not recover quickly enough, though, and one of Honobia’s linemen fell on the loose ball.
His teammates swarmed over Derwin. The celebration was mild until they realized the quarterback was not hurt. He had a rough time getting up from the hit, however. The Panthers had forced a three-and-out and Honobia was going to punt. As the punt-return team huddled up, Cole hurried down the sidelines to Ichabod.
“Go after it,” he directed.
Ichabod relayed the instructions. The Panthers lined up ten players on the line to go after the punt. As the ball was snapped, the Panthers came hard, leaving only Skip back to return the punt.
It is impossible to block every punt, of course. But a team does not always have to actually get a piece of the ball for it to be a good play. Petros did not block the punt. But the pressure forced the punter to hurry, resulting in a kick that went off the side of his foot and only traveled twenty-two yards before rolling across the sidelines.
The poor kick gave Petros the ball just short of midfield.
Cole quickly sent in a play, wondering how surprised everybody would be when they realized what was happening. The Panthers came out in the shotgun. They had one running back in the backfield with Lucky, lining up Happy to block if needed. There were four other players spread out wide.
Lucky barked the signals quickly, hoping to get the play started while Honobia was still getting its defense adjusted to the formation.
He took the snap and faked the handoff to Happy. Other than special teams, Cole had seen one area where Honobia seemed to have a weakness and he was going after it.
Lucky started looking over his receivers, not bothering to look at his intended target until it was time. Finally, he looked back to his left where Skip was sprinting down the field. The cornerback was trying to stay close to him, but found it difficult. Lucky waited one last second before throwing the ball.
With the ball in the air, Skip actually sped up, extending his lead over the cornerback. The pass was off just a little, causing Skip to angle back toward the center of the field.
It was the only thing that kept him from scoring. It slowed Skip down just enough that after he hauled in the pass, the cornerback caught up and brought him down just inside the 20.
With the crowd going crazy, the Panthers went directly to the line, not bothering to huddle. Skip and Andy changed sides, leaving Andy as the only receiver on that side.
Lucky took the snap and dropped back three steps. The cornerback covering Andy knew what was coming and tried to keep the receiver at the line by grabbing and pushing.
Andy used his size and strength to break free and took off down the field, angling toward the corner of the end zone. Lucky waited until the time was right and lobbed the ball.
The pass floated through the air, a tight spiral that seemed to go in slow motion. It arced high in the air, kept its height for a brief period then began its ascent just past the goal-line. Andy had a seven-inch height advantage and all the defensive back could hope to do was try to knock the ball away or make it so Andy could not catch it.
Honobia’s cornerback tried to knock the ball away, a poor decision. Andy’s hands were at least a foot higher than the defensive back’s. He grabbed the ball and covered it up while bringing it down, not letting the cornerback knock it loose.
The Panthers started celebrating, but an official’s whistle ended it quickly. They turned around to see what was happening and saw a yellow flag littering the ground next to where the referee stood, waving his arms.
Judging from where the flag was dropped, Cole knew this was not good. It was either holding or one of the Lions roughed the quarterback. The referee informed the other officials of his call, then walked away from the crowd and looked up at the press box.
He signaled holding and pointed at Petros’ end of the field.
The Panthers retreated back and waited for the ball to be marked. D.J. came in to take Happy’s place during the break. As soon as the officials gave their okay, Lucky started barking signals. The snap was a little low but he fielded it cleanly. He dropped back once again, but this time handed off to D.J. on a draw.
It was a good call and fooled everybody except one of the linebackers. He nailed D.J. just when it looked like there was going to be plenty of running room. The hit was hard enough it looked like D.J. was clotheslined.
The linebacker jumped to his feet and stood over D.J., pounding his chest like a gorilla, not letting D.J. rise to his feet.
It was an act that didn’t set well with the Panthers. Left tackle Todd Benton, normally mild-mannered, was so angry he ran over and shoved the Honobia linebacker away from D.J.
The referee was standing nearby and saw everything. As soon as there was a shove, he reached down, grabbed his flag and threw it high in the air.
Cole was not happy. He seldom protested anything, but was not the least bit happy with this call. He came roaring out on the field, trying to get one of the officials to discuss the call. The referee signaled a personal foul against the Panthers and ruled it a dead ball. This put the Panthers back fifteen more yards and resulted in a loss of down.
Cole continued to try and talk with one of the officials but the whole crew ignored him. They did not ignore everything from the sidelines, however.
“What a bunch of idiots,” Lloyd said, shaking his head.
The word “idiots” had barely left his mouth before the line judge grabbed his flag and tossed it. Cole was amazed the officials would not pay any attention when he was hollering at them, but Lloyd said one word and it caught their attention.
It was another fifteen-yard penalty, the first time Cole ever had a team penalized for somebody on the sidelines saying something.
Cole’s blood pressure was flying high as he stood on the field and glared at the official. He was steamed at them still, but also at Lloyd for what he said.
Lloyd regretted the comment and knew it was a mistake. It might be the truth, but that was no excuse. He knew his father would reinforce that message. All Cole did was give Lloyd a dirty look when the officials would not look at him.
Lucky got his team to huddle and tried to get control of the players. They were all upset, just like the coaches. He finally got everybody quiet enough to call the play.
The Lions had a pretty good idea what was coming and came hard. Lucky was sacked even before he had a chance to get rid of the pass and was forced to throw the ball away on the next play.
For the Panthers, a drive that appeared to end in a touchdown would instead be a goose egg as Petros was forced to punt.
Jeremy’s punt was downed at the Honobia 15, again leaving the Lions with poor field position.
Petros took out its frustration on the Lions. Honobia struggled again, only gaining two yards in three plays.
Cole was pleased with the play of his defense, knowing this was the first time all year anybody had stood up to the Lions and fought back.
The Panthers went after the punt again, narrowly missing it. The punt rolled to a stop at the Petros 43, again giving the Panthers good field position.
As the offense took the field, Cole pulled Lucky aside.
“They’re gonna know we’re passing and will come after you,” Cole instructed. “You need to get rid of the ball quick.”
Lucky nodded, already knowing the Panthers needed to start running short routes and screens to negate the pass rush.
The Lions were ready for the pass now. Realizing this, Lucky changed the play at the line and handed off to D.J. on another draw. Honobia came hard again, only to see D.J. go past in the opposite direction. He hit the hole so quick the Lions could not react.
D.J. sprinted past the linebackers and reached the secondary before Honobia brought him down. This play surprised Cole, who had not expected the Panthers to have much success running the ball.
He decided to go with his usual formation and put Skip and D.J. in the backfield. It was the first time the two had shared the backfield since D.J.’s injury.
A dive to Skip had the same results, picking up eight yards. Lucky kept the offense at the line and snapped the ball quickly again before Honobia adjusted. He faked the dive to D.J., then followed in behind his teammate.
There was a good hole again, thanks to the fake and good blocking. He veered outside and found some running room. His run was good for another ten yards before the Lions shoved him out of bounds. Petros had found something that worked and the Panthers continued to milk it, quickly driving down the field until reaching the Honobia 10.
No team had scored in the first half on Honobia all season. The Panthers wanted to end that streak, of course, but then the defense stiffened. The Panthers tried two running plays that gained nothing and a pass on third down was batted down at the line, forcing a field goal.
The Panthers lined up for the field goal. The snap was good, as was the placement. But as Jeremy planted his left foot, he slipped again and was falling backwards as his other foot met the ball.
The ball never got high enough to clear the line. The ball hit one of the Lions in the facemask and went straight down.
Cole expected some disappointment from his players and hoped this would not slow the momentum. He knew his team would not get many chances to score and the Panthers had already missed two.
The Lions’ offense tried pounding away at the Panthers again. Petros stuffed the first two plays. On third down, Honobia went with another pass. The Panthers came hard after the quarterback, pinned him in the backfield and tossed him to the ground.
The defense celebrated another apparent three-and-out, but there was a flag on the play. Tim Treadway was called for grabbing the quarterback’s facemask, even though he was one of the few players who did not get close to the quarterback.
None of the Panthers had a clue who the penalty could be on but it didn’t matter as the Lions had their initial first down. The momentum had swung to Honobia as the first quarter ended.
Cole had read somewhere that Honobia had scored in every quarter of every game. He knew that was one streak that had just ended, hoping it was one of many.
Even with some of the momentum gone, the Panthers’ defense refused to soften, the resolve just as strong. Three running plays only netted five yards and it was time to punt again.
Lloyd pulled Harry aside as he started out on the field for the punt.
“Stop messing around and go block that punt,” he ordered.
“I haven’t been messing around, sir,” Harry argued.
“Have you blocked a punt yet?”
“Well, no.”
“Then you’ve been messing around,” countered Lloyd, a little uncomfortable that somebody actually called him “sir”. It was a first and it hit him hard. Next thing you know, people will be calling him “mister”, he worried, shaking his head. Lloyd didn’t feel like a sir or a mister.
Harry looked back at Lloyd as he sprinted out on the field.
“Okay,” he added.
The two teams lined up for the punt. Petros again had ten players stacked up at the line. Harry was on the right end, just back off the line. He acted like it was his duty to watch for a fake but kept edging closer to the line, always looking back toward the middle of the field for the first movement of the ball. By the time the ball was snapped, he was at the line and going all out.
Nobody laid a finger on him. He was past the upback and into the backfield as the ball reached the punter. It was now a race to see if the punter could get the kick off before Harry got close enough to block the punt.
This time, the punter lost. Harry arrived just as the punter dropped the ball. He dove and hit the punter in the midsection, keeping the punter from ever kicking the ball. The loose football bounced backwards. Harry climbed off the punter and scrambled to the ball, arriving just before several other players dove for it.
Harry fell on the ball, knocking the wind out of him before all the other players arrived and landed on top of him. He never let go, holding on for dear life.
As the crowd was pulled apart, the officials saw it was Petros’ ball and pointed toward Honobia’s end zone, again giving the Panthers’ crowd a reason to celebrate. Harry was still having trouble breathing as his teammates pulled him up.
He made it two steps before having to go back down on a knee.
The coaches started to come on the field but Harry waved them off, knowing his breath would return quickly.
Petros had the ball on Honobia’s 23. It was another golden opportunity for the Panthers to score and take the lead.
Lucky knew what the play would be even before his father called it. They would go for the throat with a play-action pass. It was the perfect call as far as Lucky was concerned. The Lions would be frustrated after the blocked kick and be aggressive, hopefully leaving them open to give up a big play.
Lucky relayed the call and the Panthers came to the line in the usual split-back set. Lucky got the snap and faked the dive to D.J., took two more steps down the line to make the defense think the option was coming, then quickly dropped back into the backfield.
Harry started slowly off the line, also selling the play as an option as it looked like he was searching for somebody to block. But Harry slid past the cornerback, still jogging until getting behind the safety.
He then turned on the speed, easily getting behind the defense.
Lucky could not remember seeing one of his receivers that open. He planted his foot and started to toss the ball down the field. The play had touchdown written all over it. But just as Lucky’s arm started forward, one of the Lions broke through and hit him square in the back, causing the ball to shoot straight up. Players on both teams started spinning around, trying to find the ball. But the only player who saw it was Honobia’s middle linebacker.
He timed the ball’s descent perfectly, catching the ball while going full speed. He got off to a big lead as none of the Panthers realized he had the ball until it was too late.
Lucky could only lie on the ground, watching the number 55 get smaller as the linebacker ran away.
Skip was the only Petros player with a chance to catch him but was at a disadvantage from being so far behind and finally gave up and watched the celebration begin.
The Panthers were stunned by the play and slowly jogged down the field. Lucky was the last player to get up as the hit took the breath out of him.
Danny Wall and Price House were having a heated conversation as they jogged down the field over who missed the block, each player blaming the other.
“It doesn’t matter now,” Lucky told them. “It was my fault. I should have gotten rid of the ball sooner. We were in a zone block on that play. Whoever was in front of you is who you block.”
Stub hollered at the two linemen to come to the sidelines where he could straighten everything out. He was disappointed about the missed block, of course, but after the assignments were straightened out, he chewed the players out for arguing with each other, especially on the field.
“It won’t happen again,” said Danny.
“That’s right,” Price echoed.
“Good,” Stub stated. “Now kiss and make up.”
The two players looked at each other, wondering if they heard their coach correctly.
“Do what?” asked Danny.
“You’re kidding,” exclaimed Price. “Right?”
“I think he’s serious,” said D.J., standing nearby. “Just don’t use any tongue.”
Danny wanted to inform D.J. on what the sophomore could do with his suggestion but had to get out on the field for the kickoff return.
Cole was disappointed with the outcome of the play. He did not regret the call one bit, however, knowing that if Lucky had gotten just a little more time, Petros would be leading instead of Honobia.
He watched the kickoff sail through the gray skies, his face getting pelted by the raindrops while looking up. Kenneth caught the ball at the 10 and slowly made his way up the field, made a sharp cut at the 20 and reached the 37 before getting brought down.
The offense took the field. This time, Petros’ line started losing the battle up front against the bigger Lions. The holes were shrinking quickly and the Panthers’ backs had trouble finding places to run. After two short runs, Cole tried something different on third down.
Lucky took the snap and tossed the ball back to Skip, who sprinted toward the sideline then handed back to Harry, coming back the opposite direction on a reverse. The play fooled the Lions and worked good enough to give Petros a first down.
Cole felt the players tiring, wondering what would be happening if the Panthers had scored earlier. The players would be a little less tired and the momentum would still be on their side.
After the previous play ended, Lucky saw Honobia’s end was shaken up and had to go to the bench. The end’s replacement was a tall thin player looking like he did not weigh 160 pounds, nothing like the stud he replaced.
Lucky decided to test the new end quickly. He audibled and switched to a power play over the left side to D.J. He received the snap and turned to put the ball in D.J.’s belly. Just as soon as the ball was there, Lucky pulled it back out.
He stood still for a second, looking back and watched D.J. pound into the line. If any of the Lions realized Lucky had the ball, they could have taken his head off. But nobody figured it out and Lucky slowly turned to see if the replacement end had made the mistake of following D.J.
The end had taken the bait, leaving Lucky with plenty of room. He rolled in the direction and found nothing but the dormant wet grass ahead of him. Lucky was all by himself, sprinting down the field, some twenty yards down the field when he heard the first whistle blow, followed quickly by another.
Lucky knew there had to be some kind of mistake and continued down the field. The Petros side saw Lucky running by himself toward the end zone and started celebrating, only a few noticing something was not right.
They saw the officials back at the line running to the pile at the middle of the field. All the officials were looking in that direction aside from the one official trying to keep pace with Lucky, but having a difficult time thanks to advanced age and the extra forty pounds of weight around the midsection.
Cole realized quickly what happened. The fake had been so good it fooled all the Honobia players, but also tricked the officials into believing D.J. had the ball and was tackled.
The Petros side started protesting immediately, making the officials wonder what happened. Cole and the coaches were pointing down the field as Lucky crossed into the end zone. The officials were confused, looking into the pile for the football.
“How come you blew the whistle?” asked D.J. “I never had the ball.”
Two officials looked at each other, a look of concern growing on their face. One of the officials looked down the field and saw Lucky holding the ball aloft in the end zone. He got the referee’s attention and pointed toward Lucky.
“Uh, oh,” said the younger official.
“That’s not good,” another official added.
The referee waved his arms to stop the clock and gathered all the officials around him, including the one who followed Lucky and now had to run all the way back up the field. He was wheezing badly after finally arriving at the huddle.
The officials consulted for a moment then reached an agreement. The huddle broke up and the referee came to the sideline, looking much like a child coming to a parent after getting in trouble.
“Coach, we messed up on the play,” the official stated, surprising Cole with his honesty. “The fake was so good we thought the running back had the ball and blew the whistle when he went down. We apologize for that but we have to mark the ball back where we blew the whistle.”
Cole knew that, but certainly didn’t like it. But he also knew there wasn’t any reason to argue. Those were the rules and the officials had just made a bad mistake.
The referee turned and jogged back out on the field. The Petros fans realized what happened and showed their displeasure with the call, booing and hollering insults at the officials.
Cole quickly turned to the bleachers and waved his arms, trying to get the fans to quit. Most of them obeyed, although a few continued getting on the officials.
Petros’ players were also complaining in the huddle about the bad break. Lucky was a little out of breath and did not want to hear this.
“We’re gonna have to drop it,” Lucky ordered. “Those things happen. It’s not gonna help us to stand around griping and complaining. We need to forget about it and play some football.”
Lucky’s speech brought a little sense of control. Petros was then forced to punt. Jeremy let go with a boomer considering the field conditions, sending the returner all the way back to his 20. The punt was returned back to the 30 before the coverage overwhelmed him.
Honobia’s offense had gotten ripped apart on the sidelines by the coaches, especially the line. The Lions had heard all they cared to hear and came to life. The offense started looking like they had in all the other games, rolling over the defense like a tornado smashing through a mobile home park.
Ichabod tried everything but could not slow down the drive. The only thing that looked like it could keep Honobia out of the end zone was the clock.
Most of the plays were blasts right up the gut. Honobia reached the Petros 5 and had a first and goal. The clock showed just under two minutes remaining.
Cole knew they had to do something or Honobia would score easily. The Panthers were getting pushed around and had to get more physical. The answer hit Cole and he called for time just as the Lions came to the line.
He hollered for Happy, who came sprinting toward his coach. Happy already had his helmet on and was buttoning his chinstrap.
“Tim, we’re gonna give you a break for the rest of the series,” Cole instructed. “We’ve gotta get a little stronger up the middle.”
Tim nodded and stepped out of the huddle. Tim knew he was giving everything, but was having trouble against those huge blockers pounding away at him. Plus, he needed a break. He was more of a speed player and more effective against quicker teams.
The Panthers took the field with Derwin, Happy and Murray Perdue at linebacker. Honobia went back to the same play, trying to pound into the end zone.
There was a difference this time, though. Happy read the play quickly and moved ahead to take on the blocker and refused to give ground, standing up the guard and blocking the hole. The back picked up one yard, but it was all because of his effort and was lucky to get that.
Second down netted two more yards, getting Honobia down to the 2. It was third down and two yards to go for a touchdown that would practically break the Panthers’ backs.
The big fullback blasted ahead on third down, finding a small gap. Gary saw the play developing and moved quickly into the hole, met the fullback and delivered a hit that sent the fullback reeling backwards.
For a player not known for big hits, Gary had just came through with one of the biggest of the season.
Honobia called time. It was fourth down and the ball was resting less than a yard from the end zone.
Many coaches would choose the safe play here, kicking a field goal to go ahead by two scores. Cole knew Honobia’s coach was too proud for that and would go for the touchdown.
Ichabod told the defense to come out in a goal-line defense and made sure the best linemen were on the field.
“We’ve got to penetrate into the backfield,” Ichabod stressed, shoving his glasses back up the huge nose. “The tailback’s going to come right at you.”
Ichabod would probably run the quarterback sneak if he was calling the plays for Honobia, but knew the tailback was the coach’s son and he would give him the ball to pad his boy’s stats.
The two teams took the field for the last play of the first half. Petros’ linemen crouched down as low as possible, trying to get below the opposing linemen. Petros was going with six linemen, three linebackers and two defensive backs, Lucky and Skip.
The defensive backs were basically extra linebackers as they lined up close to the tight ends, not worrying about a pass.
Honobia did come with the expected run, a blast ahead by the tailback over the right side. Petros’ linemen fired off low and hard at the snap, getting below the blockers.
Happy and Derwin read the play quickly and raced forward, trying to get to the hole first. Derwin got there first, leaping over the tangled linemen like a missile that had just been fired. The collision occurred in the backfield, even before the running back got back to the line. Lucky and Skip were right behind, making sure the running back could not escape.
The Panthers started celebrating even before the whistle blew, but it was short lived. The lineman came running in, waving his arms and prevented the players from leaving the field. All eyes went to that side of the field and saw a flag on the ground.
All the officials huddled up and discussed the play. The referee stood in the middle of the huddle with his arms crossed, nodding while listening to the other officials.
He was satisfied with the explanation and left the huddle. He walked away from everybody and put both hands on his hips then pointed toward the Petros side. It was offsides on Petros and gave Honobia another chance.
The officials ruled one of the Panthers had crossed the line before the ball was snapped or lined up offsides. Naturally, Petros’ side was not pleased with this call, since it was another in a long string of calls that hurt the Panthers.
Honobia quickly lined up while the Panthers were disorganized. As soon as the umpire backed away, the center snapped the ball. Petros’ players were not lined up and scrambled to get set before the play started.
This time, the quarterback kept the ball on a sneak and dove forward, easily scoring without any of the Panthers touching him.
The extra point was good, giving the Lions a 14-0 lead as the teams retreated to the dressing rooms.
Cole was not the type to verbally abuse an official or lose his temper. But as he left the field, Cole made sure to cross paths with the referee.
“You planning on nailing us all night?” he asked. “You’ve stuck it to us all night.”
The referee was aware several calls had gone against Petros. He did not know if the Panthers had been offsides on the one play. Whether it was the right call, he had no idea. The officials had erred on Lucky’s run and admitted it.
“Your guy was across the line,” the linesman said.
“Which one was it?” Cole demanded, his anger rising.
“I don’t know. It was one of your linemen.”
“Give me a number.”
The official looked like a deer caught in the headlights.
“I couldn’t tell the number,” he admitted.
“I didn’t see anybody jump,” Cole stated, jogging along with the officials.
“Uh, he lined up offsides.”
“How much?”
The referee was getting upset now. They had gone almost half the field with this coach nagging them.
“It doesn’t matter, Coach,” the referee advised. “You know the rules. If you line up offsides, we have to drop a flag.”
The officials veered off to their dressing room, leaving Cole alone out on the field.
Cole shook his head and continued jogging toward his team’s locker room. His players were a little despondent as he entered. They were complaining about the officials, the field, just about everything they could think of.
“It’s hard to beat those guys and the dang refs!” shouted Scoop, who had slipped into the locker room to get a drink and joined in the bellyaching.
Cole got a drink and let the players continue for a few moments. Finally, he had enough.
“All I hear is you guys talking about how the refs did this or did that,” Cole mentioned. “That stuff doesn’t matter. You should be talking about what it’ll take for us to come back and win this game, not about stuff we don’t have any control over.”
If Cole had walked around the room and slapped each player on the face, it would not have held their attention any better.
“I didn’t care much for those calls either,” he continued. “But right now that doesn’t mean a hill of beans. We gotta let it go. We can’t change what happened. We need to spend our time and energy on how to win this game, not griping like a bunch of women.
“You’re acting like we’re behind by fifty points and don’t have a shot. We’re only down two touchdowns and we’ve come back several times this year. You guys know it and so does Honobia’s players. We were the better team the first half, I don’t care what the scoreboard says. We’re two quarters away from playing in the state championship game.”
Cole let that sink in, looking around the room at all the players. There was not a sound in the room, other than Scoop flushing the toilet.
Scoop emerged from the bathroom and saw all eyes were on him.
“Sorry,” he said. “Had to go.”
“That’s what we’re playing for,” Cole added, trying to ignore Scoop. “We outscore Honobia by fifteen points this half and we go to Stillwater next week.”
He certainly had the players’ focus back on the game by reminding them what they were playing for. Despite the score, Cole had no doubt they would come through. He knew his team was playing a great team, but it was just a feeling Cole got while looking around the room at his guys, many of them wet and covered with mud.
The other coaches took over and made a few adjustments before giving the players a couple of minutes before they had to go back out on the field.
The griping had gone by the wayside. Now, the players sat, only worrying about winning this half and the game. When it was finally time to take the field, the Panthers came tearing out of the locker room, ready to get back in the game.
Tatum was waiting for Cole as he left the locker room and started walking with him.
“How are they?” Tatum asked.
“Okay, now,” Cole answered. “They were a little upset with the officiating until we talked it over.”
“That’s what I figured. Honobia’s tough but I feel like we’re going to win.”
“So do I,” Cole agreed, looking up at the dark clouds and feeling the rain hit him in the face. It was now raining harder with no signs of slacking up. “I just wish we were playing on a dry field.”
“Well, good luck,” Tatum added, started to walk away then stopped. “I don’t think they can handle your option.”
Cole nodded, at this point willing to try anything.
posted by Craig Hall at 6:29 PM
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