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Authors: Karen Kingsbury

Learning (20 page)

BOOK: Learning
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Eighteen

T
HAT NIGHT AFTER DINNER, WHEN THE GUYS WERE EXHAUSTED
from another group session, and still one more team practice, Cody called a meeting. With everyone in a room on the first floor of the dorms he set his plan in motion.

“We have a chance to help someone.” He looked around the room, studying their eyes. Only a few of them showed even a slight bit of interest. Cody reminded himself to be patient. They were tired, but that didn’t matter. They needed to respond when they were tired or they’d never respond at all. “I didn’t hear your answer.”

The guys rallied, pulling together a mediocre, “Yes, sir.”

“What?”

This time they were louder, more together. “Yes, sir!”

“Okay, then … here’s the deal.” He shared a quick look with his coaches, both anchored against the wall near the door, their arms crossed. They believed in his plan. It was their job to watch for dissenters — since it only took one for the plan not to work. “There’s a football team in central Indiana … the coach wants to keep their name anonymous.” Cody had rehearsed this part. He kept eye contact, his tone intense. “These guys have been hit by so many problems they’re thinking of not playing this year. They aren’t sure they’ll have a team.”

The guys shifted, curious and maybe even slightly irritated. DeMetri raised his hand. “Do we play this team, Coach?” He
looked at Arnie and Marcos. “I mean, are we supposed to help the competition?”

“No.” Cody shook his head, adamant. “They’re not on our schedule.”

Again the guys shifted, wary, their eyes on Cody.

“Every day we’ll have a chance to win three-thousand dollars for one of the players on that team — money that could make the difference for whether that player stays with football or not.” He paced to the other side of the room, looking each guy straight on. “The prize money is being put up by a player from the Indianapolis Colts, and it involves only our team.” He stopped and folded his arms. “Here’s the catch. We can only win the money on one condition — we have to take first place that day here at camp. Every day Coach Henry picks Lyle as the number one school, every day Lyle has the most points for the day — we’ll earn three-thousand dollars for one of the players’ families on that Indiana team.”

The indifference on the guys’ faces confirmed Cody’s fears about this stage of his plan. Why should they care about some other team … or the problems of a group of guys they didn’t even know? Cody took a deep breath and made it more personal. “Tomorrow we raise money for an eight-year-old girl with bone cancer.” Cody paused. “She has already lost most of her right leg, and now the cancer has spread.”

He was careful not to stare, but out of the corner of his eyes Cody saw Larry Sanders hang his head. “This little girl’s family needs three-thousand dollars for an experimental medication that might … it just might save her life.” He paused, his voice ringing through the room. “Imagine if that little girl was your sister. Missing school … missing time on the playground with her friends … struggling with crutches and hoping to see another summer.” His voice fell, and he struggled with his own emotions. “Three-thousand dollars, men. You can win that money for her tomorrow.”

Suddenly, with the slow certainty of a sunrise, Cody watched the message begin to sink in. The guys stood straight, their expressions intense. A few of them even had tears in their eyes. “Are we ready to win this thing tomorrow? For that little girl?”

The guys shifted, restless, like they were ready to get started. “Yes, sir!”

Their voices came together in a resounding response that caught even Cody off guard. He clapped a few times. “Alright … let’s bring it in.” They gathered around him more quickly than they had at any time that day, their hands high at the center of the circle. “Dear God … use us. Bring us together and use us. That’s all we ask, Lord. In Jesus’ name, amen.” He paused briefly. “Whose way?”

“His way!” The guys were loud … intense because of what they now knew about the girl with cancer.

“Whose way?” Cody’s voice boomed out from among them. “His way!”

“Three thousand … on three …” Cody didn’t let up. “One … two … three …”

“Three thousand!” The words were a cry, a shout that echoed against the walls of the room.

Cody could see the smiles on the faces of his coaches. “Alright, men, let’s get some rest. We have a big day ahead of us.”

After praying much of the night for his guys, the next day was like a scene from a feel-good movie. From the moment the Lyle guys began stretching drills after breakfast until the last play of the afternoon scrimmage, his Buckaroos played with a heart and desire Cody had never seen. Arnie threw passes even he hadn’t known he was capable of, and Marcos blocked like his life depended on it. Only a few times did Cody have to call the guys together and remind them, saying things like, “She’ll never run like the other girls … but at least she has a chance to live. It’s up to you, men. Help her live! One … two … three …”

“Three thousand!” Fire filled the guys’ expressions, and their eyes shone with a determination nothing could thwart. They were playing their hearts out for a little girl they didn’t know. The other players at the camp had no idea what had gotten into the Lyle guys, but as Coach Henry announced the winner for the day no one was surprised.

“Our first place team is Lyle High.” His gruff disposition was gone, and a mix of humor and bewilderment filled his voice. “Not sure if maybe you Lyle boys got things mixed up … this isn’t the state play-offs.”

A round of lighthearted laughter came from the players — even the Buckaroos. Marcos Brown walked to the front of the group to accept the Sunday trophy. He held it up and there was no mistaking the glimmer in his eyes. Marcos was fighting back tears. Cody understood why. Lyle wasn’t a wealthy town … none of the football players had ever made that much money … or even imagined it. But together they had done what might’ve felt impossible just twenty-four hours earlier. They’d raised three-thousand dollars for a sick little girl, the sister of a football player they didn’t even know.

That night, when the celebrating had let up, Cody told them their next assignment. “There’s a guy on that team, his house burned down. Family lost everything.” This time it was Terry Allen who briefly hung his head. But he looked up quickly, intent about the task at hand. “Habitat for Humanity is going to rebuild their house … but they need money for supplies. Three-thousand dollars, men. That’s what it will take to get them started, to make sure this football player and his family have a roof over their heads as winter hits in a few months.”

This time the guys rounded up more quickly, and their voices rang with a pride that hadn’t been there the day before. Because now they knew they were capable, and the same was true the next day as they intensified their efforts for every drill, every session.
“A roof for the winter … come on, men,” Cody yelled a few times throughout the day. “One … two … three …” “Three thousand!”

No one was surprised when Lyle again took the Monday trophy, and so the pattern was set. Tuesday and Wednesday they played for the family of a football player who needed three-thousand dollars to make back payments and keep their house from being taken away. “They can be homeless, or they can keep their houses.” Cody kept finding new levels of passion for the work at hand. “It’s up to you, men!”

The Lyle team worked harder. Tuesday’s trophy and Wednesday’s trophy, and on Thursday they won the money for a kid whose mom was in prison, a kid with no clothes, and no way to take the weekly trip to visit his mother behind bars. “Bus money so a football player on this team can talk to his mom once a week!” Cody allowed the incredulousness to slip into his tone. “Can you imagine that? Not having your mom there when you get home from school? We can do this, men … we can.”

By the time Friday rolled around, the guys were thicker than brothers. Not only because they’d found new levels of effort and because they’d won a combined fifteen-thousand dollars for the families of a bunch of football players they didn’t know. But because other teams were rising to the challenge, doubling their efforts, doing whatever they could to take the last day’s trophy away from Lyle. This time the prize money would go to counseling for a handful of players whose grades were too low to get them into college.

“These are guys who have no chance without a college education … and no chance at college unless they get some help.” Cody paced in front of the guys that morning before stretching drills. “Someday you might find yourself getting a home loan or a doctor’s appointment, and the guy helping you will be standing there — not homeless on a bench somewhere — because of what you
men do today.” He was talking loud, underlining the importance of their efforts. “Do you understand? How important this is?”

“Yes, sir!” Their answer was crisp and bellowing, in complete unison.

“Okay …” Cody stifled the smile bursting through him. “One … two … three …” “Three thousand!”

That day the competition was closer than it had been all week, and what Cody saw made him and the other coaches watch in silent awe. The guys pushed each other on, refusing to let one of them lag behind. “Come on,” DeMetri shouted at Arnie. “Don’t give up. Those guys are counting on us!” It was a scene that was repeated throughout the day even as Burton High made a serious run at the Friday trophy.

But when Coach Henry took the platform that night, he only shook his head, dazed. “I’ve been running this camp for more than a decade.” He looked across the sea of football players. “I’ve never seen anyone play with more intensity than Lyle High played this week. For the first time in the camp’s history — first place goes to the same school all six days. The winner of the Friday trophy is the Lyle High Buckaroos!”

The guys looked back at him, and Cody understood. He nodded his approval, and the entire group ran to the front to accept their prize. As they jumped around, holding the trophy overhead, their faces lit up with smiles and cheers, only Cody and his other coaches understood what they were celebrating. Not until that night did Cody call a meeting in the same room where they’d met six days ago.

“I’m very … very proud of you, men.” Cody choked up as he faced them. “You proved what you’re capable of … and you proved how much you care.” He paused, hoping he could get through the next part without breaking down. “I want to tell you
something about that team, the team you’ve been fighting for and playing your hearts out for all week long.”

The guys were seated on the floor, a camaraderie between them that hadn’t been there when they arrived at camp. They looked interested, but not overly so. It didn’t matter what team they had competed for … but only that they had done so. A group of lives would be changed because of their efforts this week. That was the important thing. Cody could see that in their faces. Clearly they had no idea what was coming.

“That team … the one you won eighteen-thousand dollars for … they’re here at camp this week.”

Cody’s players looked slightly baffled, and a whisper of voices came from a few of them as they tried to guess which team here at camp might’ve struggled with so much adversity. When he had their attention again, Cody dropped his voice — low enough so the guys had to strain to hear him. “What’s amazing about this team, is that only the coaches knew about their troubles. Guys were seated next to each other this week, blocking tacklers side by side … throwing touchdown passes to guys they didn’t know were struggling.”

He shrugged, never breaking eye contact. “The team was on the verge of collapse … guys ready to give up. But no one knew.” He let his voice rise a little. “You know why? Because they weren’t a team. They were a bunch of guys who wanted to play football. But they didn’t talk … didn’t share … didn’t care at all about the man on their right or their left.”

The room was dead silent, each player waiting to find out which team they’d competed against that week that might’ve been so unaware of their own struggles. Finally, when Cody couldn’t wait another minute, he looked at each of them and nodded with a certainty that hinted at what was to come. “That team is you, men. It’s you.”

“What?” DeMetri’s question summed up the expression on
all their faces. They couldn’t have looked more surprised if Cody had told them they were going to grow wings. Their mouths hung open and a few of them looked down: Larry Sanders and Terry Allen … Wells and Bronson. Guys who had known they were up against the same struggles someone else was facing, but who’d never imagined the team with all those troubles was their own.

“Look around the room, men.” Cody’s voice was loud with concern, his tone a reflection of how much he cared. “Sanders!” He walked to the tight end and helped him to his feet. Then he put his arm around the kid’s shoulders. “Tell the guys about your sister.”

Tears spilled onto Sanders’ cheeks, and he rubbed at them with his fist for a few seconds. His face was red, but when he had control he looked at his teammates. “She … she has bone cancer. She needs a new medicine.”

Around the room several of the guys were quietly crying, not the type of crying that showed weakness, but the kind that proved commitment and concern. Sanders sniffed loudly and nodded. “Thanks guys … the money … it might save her life.”

Before Sanders could sit down, the other guys rose, clapping for their teammate. They surrounded him, patting him on the back and hugging him around the neck. The message didn’t need any words. Whatever Sanders and his sister were going through, the team was there for him. By the time Sanders sat down, he was no longer among fellow football players.

He was among brothers.

“Terry Allen … come here please.” One at a time Cody brought up the players and allowed them the chance to explain their situations, a chance to thank their teammates for raising money that might mean they would keep their homes or have a warm place to sleep that winter, money that would keep them in school and give them a chance at college.

When he called up DeMetri, the junior was already crying,
his voice too choked to talk right away. The others came close, supporting him, surrounding him. As soon as he could speak, he shook his head. “I’ll find a way to see my mom … I’m not worried. I can work.” He looked at Cody and no words were needed. The message in his eyes was unmistakable. He had a place to live, food to eat. He would be fine. DeMetri looked at Sanders. “I’d like my money to go to your sister. So she has plenty to help her … to help her get better.”

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