Chapter 57

The chartered buses arrived early Saturday morning, just before the members of the Petros High School football team showed up. It was quite an event for the remaining people in town to see, five chartered buses going through town and parking in front of the gym.

The football team only needed two buses. The others were for the cheerleaders, band, students and other Petros fans who decided it was better to ride a bus than make the three-hour drive.

Sleep had not been easy for the players and coaches the night before. Their thoughts, hopes and worries were on the game and left many needing more rest. Cole was still convinced it was better for everybody to sleep in their own beds instead of going to Stillwater the night before and sleeping in a strange bed and different environment.

All the equipment had been loaded in vans the previous evening so all the players had to do was get on the right bus and wait for everybody to arrive, knowing they better not be late or they would be left at home. It didn’t matter whether you were a starter or a reserve.

Too many players had learned that lesson over the years. If you were late, the bus would not wait. It was one of Cole’s main rules and one that had not been broken this year.

There was enough room on the buses for all the players to have room to stretch out and not be cramped, which was the usual case on a school bus. The players noticed there was a television and VCR on both buses, but did not think much about it, other than it would be cool if they could watch something while going down the road.

Ichabod and Lloyd would handle one bus, riding along with Scoop. Cole and Stub would go on the other bus. Cole decided this was the best way, knowing if Stub and Lloyd were together on a bus, it would probably turn into a party.

It was a cold December morning, the skies a bright blue like only a winter morning produces. Everybody was blowing smoke when they breathed or talked and the exhaust from the buses joined in. Cole hated riding in buses, had for years, but thought this was a definite improvement over the usual ride. There was even a bathroom on the bus!

The coaches stood around, wearing heavy black jackets and hats, shifting from foot-to-foot, as if that helped warm them up. They all had a big mug of coffee, which did help warm them. Several cars passed by on their way out of town, the horns honking loudly and the people waving.

All the coaches wore gloves, trying to keep their hands warm. But it was their feet that felt the brunt of the cold standing on the asphalt parking lot.

This was how the weather was supposed to be all day, freezing cold. Temperatures were expected to drop into the upper teens by the start of the game with a wind-chill in the single digits, thanks to the strong wind in Stillwater.

The water might be still in Stillwater, but the winds weren’t, always blowing much worse than in the southeast part of the start where the trees and mountains blocked some of the breeze.

Lloyd was already in his bus seat, sleeping with his head on a pillow and a blanket covering his body. It was hard to get up this early in the morning after staying out most of the night, of course, and Cole barely got his oldest son out of bed.

Lucky was standing off to the side, waiting for his teammates to arrive so he could get a seat. He felt it was only right to let the upper classmen choose their seats and then let the sophomores pick among the leftovers.

Cole had told him it was okay to get a seat but Lucky declined. His ears were red as apples from the cold and his cheeks were turning crimson also.

He had on a black Petros sweat shirt, his favorite jacket, also black with Petros written across the front in white. His white baseball hat provided a little protection for his head. His faded jeans were not up to keeping his legs warm, nor were the basketball shoes on his feet.

It had been a rough week for Lucky, fighting the effects of his injury. He still hurt whenever his body did anything, a pain like Lucky had never had before and hoped never to have again.

He had missed practice all week, which hurt almost as much as his sore ribs. Nobody knew if he could play, waiting to see how Lucky reacted in the warm-ups. Gary would start at quarterback. They just hoped Lucky could play, if needed.

Lucky had slept badly the previous night, also, but that was nothing new. He had not slept well since hurting his ribs, only dozing off for brief periods, waking, then getting some more nods. Sleeping a whole night now was a distant memory, one Lucky hoped to remember soon.

It was like somebody turned a light switch on. Almost as if on cue, cars and trucks started pulling into the parking lot, dropping off the players. Some of the players drove themselves and parked their cars or trucks, paying no attention to the designated parking spots.

Players started coming from every direction, mostly silent as they examined the outside of the bus. Many looked like they just crawled out of bed, threw on some clothes and rushed to the school. There were some bad hairdos that morning, thankfully most covered with hats.

Some of the smarter ones carried pillows, better to help sleep on the trip. Talk was at a minimum and laughter and horseplay not existent, much to the coaches’ surprise.

“Not real jovial this morning, are they?” Stub asked.

“Nope,” Ichabod replied. “Nice choice of words, Stub. You been using your dictionary?”

Stub ignored the little dig, choosing to wait for the right opportunity to fight back. It was a little too early right now and his creativity seemed to be frozen like all the puddles on the ground.

Several of the parents escorted their sons and watched them get on the bus, getting a small wave or a smile for a goodbye. Even the parents seemed a little distracted, unsure of this day and what it held.

Many came over and wished the coaches good luck. It was strange for Cole as several of the parents were once his players and now he was coaching his second generation of players.

He tried counting all the players as they entered the buses, hoping everybody was there. Cole waited until the exact departure time.

“Let’s move ‘em out,” he hollered in his best John Wayne impression. Nobody seemed to think it was very funny, but Cole did not care. He thought it sounded kind of cool.

Everybody mounted up and the buses soon pulled out of the parking lot for the long trip. They passed through downtown, past all the banners and signs offering support and avoided the one stoplight, quickly passing out of the city limits.

As they approached Hodgen, Cole and Ichabod turned on the television and VCR and put in a tape. The players all looked up, wondering what was going on.

They were greeted with the image of Cole, sitting in his chair, smiling back at them.

“Good morning and welcome to Panther travel,” Cole stated. “Please sit back and enjoy the trip. For your enjoyment, we’ve prepared a special treat for you to help pass the time. The first tape is what I like to call Petros’ Greatest Hits and More. In this exciting tape, you will see the biggest hits and moments for your Petros Panthers as they travel along the road to Stillwater and tonight’s state championship game against Anson. So sit back, relax and enjoy.”

This was Lloyd’s idea and production. Cole originally did not want to do it, at least the silly introduction part, but decided it might help keep the boys loose and entertained. He looked around and saw the players’ attention was focused entirely on the tape.

Cole had watched the tape the previous night and was impressed. Lloyd had done a really good job, taking the big plays and hits and putting it on one tape. It even gave Cole goosebumps while watching it so he knew it would spark up his boys.

Many of the boys would try to sleep during the trip, but for those who didn’t want to sleep, or couldn’t, they put together enough tapes to keep everybody’s attention.

There were also tapes of the Panthers’ other two state championship games to follow the tape currently showing.

The bus edged slowly along the two-lane highway, through Hodgen by way of the bypass and some other small towns until finally getting a four-lane road at Sunset Corner. The buses turned east on Highway 9 and began making much better time.

Nothing slowed the buses down as they passed the Arkansas River and Kerr Lock and Dam, a sight Cole always admired even if he knew little about the massive structure. He just knew there was a lot of concrete and the bridge was awful high.

When the buses hit Wild Horse Mountain, just outside Sallisaw, they slowed considerably to go up the winding road. Several of the boys hollered to stop at Wild Horse Barbecue but the drivers ignored them, even though they wouldn’t have minded stopping for a chopped beef sandwich themselves if it wasn’t a little after eight in the morning.

The team ate breakfast at a restaurant in Sallisaw, a buffet set up with amounts of food that impressed the Panthers. Some of the players never ate breakfast and just got a little to tide them over. Some of the others made up for it, filling their plates to capacity and acting like they had not eaten in weeks.

Happy came strolling by the coaches, his plate overloaded with biscuits, gravy, eggs, sausage, bacon and even some waffles.

“Hey Happy, you better watch out,” Lloyd warned, looking at the plate. “You’re about a biscuit away from being a lineman.”

Happy stopped for a second, looked at his food, at Lloyd, then shrugged.

“So?” Happy responded. After all, there was seldom an opportunity to feast on such an impressive spread. And there were still a tub of pancakes he had not even touched. “You don’t got much room to talk, bubblebutt.”

Lloyd was taking a sip of milk and promptly snorted it back up through his nose, never expecting such a response. The other coaches laughed so hard they almost fell out of their chairs, even getting a smile out of Ichabod.

The huge trays of food were soon emptied. Many of the players walked a little slower on the way out, some hugging their stomachs to help carry the extra weight.

They were now set to embark on the easy part of the trip, all interstate and turnpike except for a brief period while driving through Tulsa.

The coaches turned on the televisions and VCR’s again and the players either watched the videos or went back to sleep.

The rest of the trip was pretty routine for the boys, the monotony of the road only broken up by the sights of Tulsa, a city some of the boys had never seen. As far as big places were concerned, Tulsa was nothing compared to Dallas, Houston and others, but for boys who seldom saw a building more than a couple of stories, the downtown buildings were fairly impressive.

“Wow,” stated Happy as they passed by some of the bigger buildings. “Can you imagine standing on top of one of those buildings and hawking off a loogie?”

“Not really,” Lucky answered, wondering where his friend came up with ideas like that.

The buses soon reached the outskirts of Tulsa, making good time since it was Saturday and traffic was fairly light. Sand Springs and Sapulpa were soon left behind and the buses were on the Cimarron Turnpike.

When they arrived in Stillwater, the players saw the T. Boone Pickens Stadium from the outskirts of town. It might not be as impressive as the Gaylord Family Memorial Stadium in Norman or hold as many people, but it was hard to tell that to a bunch of boys from a small town in southeastern Oklahoma.

This was a stadium in the Big 12 Conference rising into the sky.

“There it is,” Lucky advised, nudging Happy, who had been snoring away most of the time since his breakfast binge.

“It’s big,” Happy added.

The buses went by the stadium, just so the players could see it. The first game of the day started at noon and fans for the Class A championship game were already filing in.

They quickly passed by Oklahoma State University and made their way to the hotel where the team would rest until it was time to play.

Lucky wished they could watch the other games, but knew that was out of the question. Some of the guys would run around and get worn out instead of sitting and watching the game. They checked into the hotel and players were assigned rooms, two to a room.

It wasn’t the fanciest hotel but the rooms had two beds and a television.

Lucky and Happy put their stuff in their room then went back out to the buses. The team would soon eat lunch then come back and rest until it was time to go to the stadium.

It seemed like time was in slow motion all afternoon for the players and the coaches. They were used to having school on days when they had a game and now they had to lie on their beds all afternoon, resting and watching television.

Lucky and Happy watched some television, getting restless quickly. Lucky would have liked to get some more sleep, but was too excited to get any rest. He just wished the clock would speed up. Happy was soon snoring away again, amazing his friend.

He had no idea how Happy slept so much, it was almost like after every meal his friend had to sleep to help digest the food. Lucky was just glad he had control of the remote and Happy was not firing through the channels on the remote, switching them so quick it was hard to keep up.

“What are you looking for?” Lucky asked earlier as Happy wore out the button.

“I don’t know,” Happy answered, “but I’ll know it when I see it.”

There weren’t any college football games on since the bowl games were still a couple of weeks away. Lucky watched a little of a small college playoff game but it seemed a little slow for him. Finally, he settled on a college basketball game between Duke and Kentucky, two teams ranked in the top five.

He knew Happy would not care for his programming choice once he woke up, but Lucky was going to milk it until then.

Happy continued sleeping throughout the afternoon. Lucky would have worried about his friend still being alive if it weren’t for the baritone snores shaking the cheap paintings on the wall.

The time dragged slowly along, certainly not in any hurry. Lucky was antsy and ready to go. He hated not being able to do anything and staying inside, but knew that was what the coaches wanted them to do. If he had been at home and his ribs allowed it, Lucky would be outside shooting baskets or doing something.

The basketball game soon turned into a blowout as Kentucky took advantage of its home court and quickly built a huge lead. Duke could do nothing right, for a change, and the lead continued to mount, much to the delight of the huge Kentucky crowd.

It was a stunner, the announcer said, a man obviously in love with his voice because he exercised it continuously.

Lucky did not feel like it was such a stunner. It was almost impossible to beat one of the top programs when they played at home, even if the other school was ranked higher.

The basketball game ended and Happy finally woke up. He went to splash some water on his face and was delighted to come back to the bed and discover Lucky made the mistake of leaving the remote when he went to the restroom.

The rest of the afternoon was spent watching various programs for maybe two seconds then switching to another channel, never stopping.

“Doesn’t your finger ever get tired?” Lucky asked.

“Naw, it gets a lot of exercise doing this,” Happy answered.

Lucky buried his head beneath a pillow, the various images flying by giving him a headache.

The coaches brought by a small sack lunch to be used as the pre-game meal. All it had in it was a sandwich, chips, a drink and a cookie.

Happy tore his bag apart, a look of disappointment spreading.

“Where’s the rest?” he asked.

“The rest of what?” Lucky asked.

“Of the food,” Happy answered. “This wouldn’t fill up my grandmother.”

Not since his grandmother was probably pushing two-fifty on a five-foot frame, Lucky thought, but did not mention.

“Here, you can have my chips,” Lucky offered.

“Thanks!” Happy exclaimed, brightening up. “How bout that cookie?”

Lucky had his heart set on the chocolate chip cookie but took it out of the sack, tore it into two pieces and tossed half to his friend.

Happy looked at him in disbelief, not believing Lucky had not given him the whole thing. He looked at the half of a cookie setting in front of him, the other half on the bed beside Lucky.

“You kept the bigger half,” Happy informed him.

Lucky laughed at his friend and tossed him the other half, knowing what he did would irritate Happy.

Happy did not offer to give back the so-called “smaller” half, which came as no surprise to Lucky. He was not even hungry and wondered how his roommate could eat anything else, finally deciding all that sleep must have drained him.

The coaches finally came by and told the players to get their stuff together and get ready, that it was time to go.

Happy stuffed most of his sandwich in his mouth and tossed on his coat, leaving his trash on the bed. Lucky picked up his own trash, what little he was left with, threw it away and also cleaned up Happy’s mess, wondering how so many crumbs got scattered on the floor.

Everybody was walking out of the rooms, putting on their jackets to try and compensate for the strong wind blowing down from the north.. It was cold, much colder than it was earlier.

“Somebody needs to turn the heat on,” Happy commented as he jogged to the bus, his bag of chips hanging out of the back pocket of his jeans.

“Can you imagine anybody ever marrying that?” Lucky asked D.J., who was walking aside.

“That would give me nightmares,” D.J. responded.

Up ahead they saw Happy apparently had let go with one that scattered everybody around him on the bus, causing the driver to jerk his head around.

“Did you see what your friend just did?” D.J. asked.

“I thought he was your friend,” Lucky answered. “I’m sure everybody on the bus was glad he waited until he got inside to slice the cheese.”

Everything finally cleared and the players entered the buses for the short trip to the stadium. Up ahead, they saw the vans with all their equipment taking off before them.

The Class 3A game was still going on as the buses pulled up in front of the stadium’s north side, next to Gallagher-Iba Arena and let the players out.

The younger players helped empty the equipment out of the vans, handing it to the waiting players. They entered the gymnasium and were shown to their dressing room. It was a basketball dressing room and a little small for all the football players, but still much nicer than they were used to changing in.

Everybody was really getting a little nervous now, knowing what was at stake.

The coaches slipped out to watch the end of the previous game, getting to see the end of the Class 3A game and the trophy presentations.

“Wouldn’t it be cool if that was us getting one of those trophies?” Stub asked.

“We’ll get one of those trophies,” Cole answered.

“Yeah, but I want the bigger one.”

“That would be nice,” Ichabod agreed, looking even more stern than usual.

The game ended in a blowout as one of the schools from western Oklahoma won, as usual, without breaking a sweat. The school from the eastern side was embarrassed.

The coaches walked around Lewis Field, taking in all the sights and sounds. It seemed strange to see so many empty seats for such big games but it was hard for little towns to fill a fifty-thousand seat stadium. Still, the noise was impressive, trapped down in the little bowl.

They saw a bunch of Petros fans seated on the south side, under the press box, waiting for the fans from the earlier game to leave so they could get the good seats. The band was entering the stadium and Cole waved at them.

He knelt down to touch the playing surface, one of the new breeds of artificial turf which almost felt like grass but did not have the harmful effects of the old-time artificial turf.

“This feels like real grass,” Cole declared.

“I wish we were playing in the mud somewhere,” Ichabod replied.

“So do I,” Stub agreed. “It just doesn’t feel like real football if you don’t get your uniform dirty.”

Cole had to admit that was true, but also that it would be better if the field was a mess to try and slow down Anson, especially Wayman Hayes.

The more film he watched of Hayes, the more Cole was convinced the Anson junior was probably the best player Petros had faced in the last fifteen years.

He was fast, strong and had the instincts all the great backs had, knowing when to spin, to cut and to turn on the speed. That was not something a coach could teach. You either had it, or you didn’t.

It would be tough enough just trying to handle Hayes, but Anson had more weapons than any team Petros had faced. The Rams could burn an opponent many ways, but preferred handing off to Hayes and let him do his magic.

They had seen enough and decided to check on the boys. They were slowly getting dressed as one of the managers kept updating them on the status of the previous game. They would not be able to take the field until the previous teams left the field so they weren’t in a hurry.

The players were taped at the hotel and put on their pants. The only thing left was for the backs, ends and kickers to put on the jersey and helmets and go through the warm-ups, joined later by the linemen.

They would only have thirty minutes to get ready, a lot less time than usual but more than was really needed.

It was quiet in the locker room, too quiet for Cole. He felt the tension on the players, so heavy it could almost be cut with a knife. The players had to loosen up a little or they would not be able to perform. He wished Stub would do something to lighten the atmosphere, but his assistant was also nervous.

One of the managers finally came and said it was time to go. The players finished getting ready and headed for the door. Cole knew the players would be a little overwhelmed and just hoped they settled down quickly.

Anson was used to playing here in state championship games, his boys weren’t and Cole could tell it now more than ever.

The players jogged down the ramp to the playing field, all in awe. They looked around at the stadium, not saying hardly anything. Their mind was far from the game right now, just taking in the sights.

Cole wished they were playing this game at some high-school field. This was really more than the players could take, at least on their first visit.

They all had to stop and touch the field, wondering how the stuff felt. The Petros fans went crazy, seeing the Panthers approach the field. The roar was soon drowned out from the other side as Anson took the field in its maroon and yellow uniforms, looking much like the University of Southern California.

Anson had a smoke machine set up for the players to run through and a portable stereo system which blasted out music as the Rams came out on the field, further intimidating the Panthers.

“Wow,” Seth exclaimed.

“That’s cool,” added Kenneth.

“It doesn’t matter,” Lucky responded. “That doesn’t help them be a better team.”

“I don’t think they need much help,” D.J. interjected.

The sight of the Rams taking the field at the same time caused the Panthers to stop and watch their opponents, looking more like a college team than any high-school team they had seen.

“Man, they’re big,” D.J. added.

“And that’s not even their linemen,” Harry pointed out.

Cole got his team’s attention and had them take the field and begin warming up.

It was a disaster, the players unable to hold on to the ball, even on simple handoffs. Kicks were shanked and balls were bouncing everywhere.

Cole saw what was going on and was well aware of what was happening to his team, he just hoped they would adjust quickly. If they didn’t, Anson would only make the problems worse.

After a short period, the players retreated to the locker room to put on their shoulder pads and return with the rest of the team. It didn’t go much better, as this time the linemen added their mistakes on top of everything else.

The players couldn’t even got lined up straight for the stretching drills, even though they had done it practically every day since the first day of practice.

When the team lined up to run some plays, somebody would jump, Gary dropped the snap or a back would fumble. It looked worse than little league teams warming up, Cole knew.

“This isn’t good,” Stub commented. “The boys are wrapped a little tight.”

“You can’t hardly blame them,” Ichabod added.

“No, but we gotta get them straightened out somehow,” Cole responded. “Or this will get bad quickly.”

Cole waited a couple of more plays then sent his team to the locker room. The Petros fans cheered the team as it left the field, even though the Panthers’ performance so far did not merit any praise.

The players filed into the locker room and got something to drink. Everybody was so nervous and antsy they could not sit still or calm down.

Cole was getting a little irritated, even though he knew that would not help. Here they were in the biggest game of the year and the Panthers acted like they never played a game before. Sure, this was tough on them, but after this many games nothing should have this kind of effect.

“Guys, everybody needs to sit down, take a deep breath and relax,” Cole advised. The players sat down and tried to follow their coach’s suggestion but it didn’t seem to do any good. “You guys act like this is the first time you’ve ever played in a state championship game.”

The players looked around at each other with a look of puzzlement.

“Uh, Coach, this is the first time we’ve played in a state championship game,” Murray remarked.

Cole smiled, getting somebody to bite.

“I know, I was just joking. Listen, I know you’re nervous and I’m even a little nervous. Heck, Coach Stub was so nervous he yacked up his sandwich. That was not a pretty sight. Nobody can blame you for being nervous. But now’s the time we get our heads on right. We get to show the state of Oklahoma what Petros Panthers football is like.

“Nobody expected us to be here. Heck, nobody thinks we have a shot at winning this game. But I could care less. It doesn’t matter what anybody says or does, I believe in you guys. I have from that first practice and even after we lost the first three games. We could’ve folded the tent then and gone to the house. But we didn’t do it. We could’ve done it in the playoffs when we were behind and time was running out, but we didn’t.”

Cole knew he was getting a little too fired up and decided to tone it down. One thing the boys did not need right now was a super motivational speech.

“That’s because there’s more character in this room than any team I’ve ever coached,” he added. “This is your time. Go out there and play like there isn’t any tomorrow because for many of you, there isn’t. This is it. Your time to shine. I’ve said it all along and I’m gonna say it again, don’t be afraid to succeed.

“It sure beats the alternative. Now let’s go out there and shock everybody!”

Chapter 58