The Heartbeat of Halftime (11 page)
Read The Heartbeat of Halftime Online
Authors: Stephen Wunderli
WINNERS PAY
O
n Monday, Ed Stebbings filled up my locker with shaving cream. I didn't care. I figured it was kind of a compliment. Besides, I didn't have time to think about getting even. I spent every night that week at the hospital with my pop. I did my homework, and talked to Pop, which wasn't very often because he mostly slept. But when we did talk, it was always about the same thing: how amazing it was that we had made it to the championship game.
n Monday, Ed Stebbings filled up my locker with shaving cream. I didn't care. I figured it was kind of a compliment. Besides, I didn't have time to think about getting even. I spent every night that week at the hospital with my pop. I did my homework, and talked to Pop, which wasn't very often because he mostly slept. But when we did talk, it was always about the same thing: how amazing it was that we had made it to the championship game.
“You deserve it,” he said to me every night with his hoarse voice. “You worked hard, you deserve it.”
And every time we talked about it, I wanted to ask him the same question, but I never could. I was too afraid of what the answer might be. Finally, on Friday night, I asked him.
“Can you make it to the game, Pop?”
He didn't answer me. He just looked at me and I could see his eyes getting watery. I couldn't stand that. I couldn't stand seeing him so weak, so helpless. I needed him to be out of bed, stuffing pads in my uniform, taping my ankle, walking with me to the field and standing there on the sideline where I could get a glimpse of him between plays, standing there solid like he belonged there, like he would always be there, like nothing could move him. I hated seeing him lying there in that bed, tubes everywhere, machines keeping him alive, his voice as weak as a grandmother's.
He reached out and touched my hand, grabbed ahold of it. I wanted to leave but he wouldn't let me.
“I need you ⦠.” he said.
He held on to me for a long time. I stood there being angry and sad at the same time. I had never thought my father could need me. It made me somehow feel responsible for what he was going through. I wanted to say something, I wanted to give him something. I wanted it all to be easier. But the only thing I could think to give him was a win, a championship. He deserved it more than I did.
When I got home that night, Leisl was at my house. I couldn't talk to her very long because I was due at Spray Can's. That night was the biggest territory-marking ritual of the year. We were playing
the championship game at the university. There would be bleachers, benches for players, a place for the band, and even a trainer. But it also meant that we had to sneak past the security guards the night before, get onto the field to mark both end zones, then get out of there without getting caught. We were afraid that if one of us got busted, he wouldn't be allowed to play. But we were more afraid of what would happen if we didn't call on the forces of nature for the biggest game of the season.
the championship game at the university. There would be bleachers, benches for players, a place for the band, and even a trainer. But it also meant that we had to sneak past the security guards the night before, get onto the field to mark both end zones, then get out of there without getting caught. We were afraid that if one of us got busted, he wouldn't be allowed to play. But we were more afraid of what would happen if we didn't call on the forces of nature for the biggest game of the season.
So I didn't spend much time with Leisl. I guess I wish I had. Because I miss her now, and that's not something you can make up for.
“I'm leaving after the game,” she said to me. “I was supposed to leave last week, but I wanted to see you win one more time.”
“Maybe we won't win,” I said.
“You will,” she said. “I know it.”
Then she showed me the bottle cap from our football lessons. She had tied it on a string and hung it from her neck.
“For good luck,” she said. “Just in case.”
“Won't I see you after the game?” I asked her.
“You'll be celebrating with Taco Bell and Heater,” she said back.
“Heat,” I said. And I realized she was right. We had all worked hard together, and for better or worse we would be together after the game.
“Besides, she said. “My plane leaves at two. I'll just have time to get there.”
“I wish you could stay longer,” I said before I realized I had said it.
She smiled and said, “It's okay to feel alone.”
When I looked at her, I knew she understood. She had been away from her parents for three months. And even though she was going back, she knew what it was like to be without them.
“Yes, well,” I said. “I guess I don't have a choice.”
“The angry one,” she said, then kissed me on the cheek. “I will miss you.”
Then she held the bottle cap in her hand.
“Good luck,” she said. And walked away.
I stood on my front porch for a long time staring after her. She had given me my first kiss, and even though it was on the cheek, it was one I would never forget.
When I was about to step off the stairs and jog to Spray Can's, an old plumber's van pulled up in front of my house. I read the slogan on the driver's door. MAXFIELD PLUMBING, it said.
Call us first when you've got a leak.
Call us first when you've got a leak.
I looked at the driver and it was Spray Can. I started to laugh.
“What are you doin'?” I shouted to him.
“You the one with a leak?” he said.
“Yeah,” I said, running toward him. “Let's get out of here before my mom sees you driving.”
I climbed in the passenger side and found the rest of the team in the back, including Heat's dogs.
“This will work,” I said to Spray Can.
“You bet it will,” he said back, and everybody laughed.
“I got doughnuts!” I heard someone yell. I turned back around and saw Taco Bell's scabbed face smiling big in the darkness.
“All right,” I yelled. “Taco Bell is back!”
Everybody cheered and we drove to the university like we owned the town. Then we drove around the stadium, just to get a look at it. Even though the lights weren't on, we could see them standing like centurions, their heads disappearing into the night clouds.
“Wow!” Taco Bell kept saying. “Wow!”
We parked the van next to the fence so we could hop on it to climb over. Then we ran onto the field to throw the football in the dark. We couldn't get enough of the place. We had to see everything. Where the players drank their water, where they sat, where they huddled on the sideline around their coach to talk about new plays, new blocking assignments. We were like grave robbers in the great pyramid, touching everything, looking for something to take home, some memento, something that would give us good luck for the next day's game. Most guys found bits of tape or pages
from programs. But I scored the biggest when I found a chin strap.
from programs. But I scored the biggest when I found a chin strap.
“It's a sign,” Taco Bell said.
I held the chin strap above my head.
“Is it a good sign or a bad sign?” I asked him.
Everybody was quiet; then Taco Bell spoke up.
“It's a good sign!”
We all cheered and danced like warriors. Heat's dogs howled at us and we knew the force of nature was strong. We ran to the first end zone and marked it. Then we chanted and ran to the other end zone and marked it.
That's when the flashlight hit us.
“What's going on here?” we heard a voice yell at us.
We were running before we had our pants zipped up. More than one player yelped, having panicked and zipped up too soon. We ran as fast as we could to the fence and piled over onto the roof of the van. It wasn't until we were all inside that I realized I had dropped the lucky chin strap. Spray Can fired up the van.
“Wait!” I shouted. “I dropped the chin strap!”
Before I could scale the fence, Heat sent one of his dogs after it.
“Fetch!” was all he said, and pointed to the chin strap.
The dog clawed under the fence through a hole
and bounded after the chin strap. The flashlight was headed in the same direction. We heard the guard scream in fear; then the flashlight fell to the ground and went out. Heat's dog was back in a matter of seconds with the chin strap in his mouth. We could hear the guard cussing and looking for his flashlight as we drove away. The football gods were watching over us.
and bounded after the chin strap. The flashlight was headed in the same direction. We heard the guard scream in fear; then the flashlight fell to the ground and went out. Heat's dog was back in a matter of seconds with the chin strap in his mouth. We could hear the guard cussing and looking for his flashlight as we drove away. The football gods were watching over us.
THE CHAMPIONSHIP GAME
I
was awake long before my alarm went off the next morning. I couldn't sleep that night and spent most of it staring at the ceiling in my room. It was too cold to sit on the roof, so I just lay there, staring, thinking, not thinking. Everything I've told you so far went through my head. That's when I decided to write it down, that night when it all kept filling up my head so I couldn't sleep. I figured if I didn't write it down someplace, I'd never sleep again. I wrote on all the bits of paper I could find, writing everything I could think of on scraps that looked like some great puzzle laid out all over the floor of my room. Then I gathered them all up and stuffed them in my closet, where I would get to them sometime later, long after the game was over and I could sit with Spray Can and make sense of it all.
was awake long before my alarm went off the next morning. I couldn't sleep that night and spent most of it staring at the ceiling in my room. It was too cold to sit on the roof, so I just lay there, staring, thinking, not thinking. Everything I've told you so far went through my head. That's when I decided to write it down, that night when it all kept filling up my head so I couldn't sleep. I figured if I didn't write it down someplace, I'd never sleep again. I wrote on all the bits of paper I could find, writing everything I could think of on scraps that looked like some great puzzle laid out all over the floor of my room. Then I gathered them all up and stuffed them in my closet, where I would get to them sometime later, long after the game was over and I could sit with Spray Can and make sense of it all.
When the sun was finally up, I sat in the middle of the floor with all my pads and slowly got dressed. Once again I was preparing for battle. I had my armor, and I had the spirit of my father sitting beside me. I talked to him about the game, about every play, every detail of each assignment. I talked about pass patterns, how soon to cut in on a man, how to brush him off, turn him around, outrun him. I talked about blocking, keeping my head up, my feet moving. I talked about running the ball, cutting back against the grain, turning the corner on the sweeps, getting the extra yard.
When all the pads were in, and I had everything on but my helmet, I stood in the middle of the room.
“See you at the game,” I said to my father. And I had this strange feeling that he'd heard me.
I went downstairs and Mom had breakfast for me.
“You're up early,” I said to her. “I mean for a Saturday.”
“I wouldn't miss this game for anything,” she said.
That surprised me. She had always hated football. Every season she would get upset that I was even playing; then she and Pop would argue about it for a while.
“I thought you didn't like football,” I said.
“I don't,” she said. “But I like you ⦠. Here's your breakfast.”
“Thanks,” I said.
She smiled at me. Seemed like it had been such a long time that she had smiled or been happy with something. I think about it now, and maybe she realized that before long it was going to be just me and her; and that maybe she better start getting used to it. Including the football.
Mom sat next to me while I ate. After a moment, she spoke to me.
“I love him too, you know,” she said.
I nodded my head, not knowing what to say.
We sat alone like that for a time, not talking, just sitting. Still, it was a good beginning.
As always, I was the first one to the field. Mom dropped me off at the players' entrance, then went to find herself a good seat. I didn't see anyone there when I jogged out onto the field to warm up. The stadium was a lot bigger in the daytime. I looked at the fence where we had climbed over the night before. I laughed to myself thinking about the security guard being scared out of his pants when he caught sight of Heat's dog charging toward him. Then I thought about the chin strap. I pulled my helmet on to make sure the chin strap fit. It did, and I rubbed it for good luck.
That's when I saw Coach sitting on one of the benches on the sideline.
“It's a big place, isn't it?” he asked me without getting up.
“Yes,” I said loudly, since I was standing so far away from him. I couldn't think of anything else to say. I had never been alone with Coach before. And even though we had spent a whole season together, it seemed like I didn't know him at all. I walked over and sat beside him.
“You know,” he said. “One of the main reasons we're sitting right here today is because of the way you've played this season.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“Everyone tells me this is the best season you've ever had. I don't know, this is my first year in this league, in this town. But that's what they tell me. Is it true?”
“I guess so.”
“Why do you suppose that is?” he asked me.
“I don't know,” I said.
“We never know, do we?” he said.
It was the first thing anybody had said to me that really made sense. That was it. We don't know why things happen, or what's going to happen. There are a lot of things we just can't do anything about. And there are a lot of things we're never going to understand. That's life. No sense being angry at what you can't change. You just find a way to make the most of it, to make it work.
We both looked at the sun over the stadium then. It was cold, but it was a clear morning. A perfect day for football.
“Let's win us a game today,” Coach said.
Sitting there with him, I believed we would.
Shortly after that, everyone else arrived. We went through warm-ups at one end of the field while Cyprus warmed up at the other end. There were people slowly moving into the stadium, and we all knew they would never fill it. Not for this game. I think we all dreamed of a packed stadium, but we weren't disappointed when only the first few rows filled up. The last to arrive was the band. Just as we were going into the locker room for a five-minute pep talk, the band hurried into the seats behind the end zone. As we ran by, they all held out their gloved hands to slap us five and shout to us.
“You're the best!” they yelled.
“So are you guys!” Taco Bell shouted back.
I guess he was just caught up in all the excitement and couldn't think of anything else to say. We could hear the band warm up as we made our way through the tunnel and into the locker room. Most of the team was too awestruck to hear what Coach was saying. It was the biggest day in all of our lives. It would be tough to concentrate before the game. Coach knew this, so he didn't say much.
“We have a win waiting for us,” he said. “There's a championship right here. By lunchtime today you could be champions. You all deserve it. You deserve it more than anyone on that Cyprus team. You've
had more to overcome. More to prove. More to lose.”
had more to overcome. More to prove. More to lose.”
He looked at me then, understanding what had motivated me all season.
“Now,” he continued. “Let's go have some fun. Let's go win us a football game!”
We all yelled then, and gathered into a huddle around Coach.
“You want to win this game?” he shouted at us.
“Yes!” we shouted back.
“Then let's go prove it!” he yelled.
We all screamed like infantrymen and stormed the field. Cyprus had already done its screaming and was on the opposite sideline. They watched us jump into each other, yelling and smacking helmets. For the first time all year we recognized what the band was playing. It was our school song. We cheered as half the audience sang along. I turned and looked into the stands while Heat and Spray Can walked out onto the field for the flip. Even though the stands were far less than half full, there were still more people at this game than I had ever seen. Then I saw Leisl. She was up front, leaning over the rail with Katie. She had the bottle-cap necklace in her hand and was looking for me. She caught sight of me and I smiled at her. She smiled back and tugged at the necklace. My cheek suddenly felt warm.
I turned back to Heat and Spray Can just in time
to see us win the flip. We would receive. The game had started and everything would fade away, the stadium, all the fans, the band. Everything except the game. It was all that mattered. I took my place on the field and waited. I could hear my own breathing. I could feel my heartbeat. I glanced at the sideline like I always do, looking for my father. He wasn't there and I grew angry again.
to see us win the flip. We would receive. The game had started and everything would fade away, the stadium, all the fans, the band. Everything except the game. It was all that mattered. I took my place on the field and waited. I could hear my own breathing. I could feel my heartbeat. I glanced at the sideline like I always do, looking for my father. He wasn't there and I grew angry again.
The whistle blew and the referee signaled for the kickoff. It was like the beginning of my life, it was like I was born right then. I heard the thud of a ball being kicked. I watched it loft over the front line, end over end, arcing first high, then down, down into my arms. I heard Heat running toward me.
“Up the middle!” he shouted, and cut in front of me to lead the blocking.
I caught up with him quickly. We were running in the same steps, pumping the same rhythm like we were on a tandem bicycle. Taco Bell laid down the first block, but the line closed in on us. Heat opened up a small gap, but it slammed in on me. I got hit hard from the left side, then the right. I lost Heat, and tried to take one more step, get one more yard. But I got hit head on. I was knocked to the ground and smothered by the defense.
When I found my way out of the tangle of bodies, my left hand was numb. It felt like it had been cut off. I tried to find my way back to the huddle, but it hurt so bad I had to stop. The referee called time-out
and one of the college trainers ran onto the field.
and one of the college trainers ran onto the field.
“Where does it hurt?” he asked me.
“My hand,” I said painfully. “I took a helmet in the hand.”
As I walked off the field, I turned around to see Heat growing angry. I had made it to about the thirty yard line. But without me, Stones would have to play halfback. Stones was not fast enough to be a threat on the sweeps or the passes. He played defense and we brought him in on offense only when we had to play power football.
“Heat is going to have a long game if I don't get back out there,” I said to myself.
So while the trainer iced my hand and checked for broken bones, Heat ran the dive, play after play. Stones was a pretty good blocker, and our line was angry enough to hit hard. Heat was gaining four or five yards a play. Taco Bell was playing like a madman. You could see the scabs on his face, and after a few plays they got knocked loose and started to bleed. The scabs on his elbow and leg were bleeding too. He looked like a psycho soldier. I think it scared the other team half to death. Taco Bell knew it and played it up. He'd growl and yell like an ax murderer, then wipe blood on his pants. The kid he was blocking got so intimidated, he wouldn't even line up in front of Taco Bell; he played back, off the line.
Bam just kept handing off to Heat behind Stones
and they ran to Taco Bell's side all the way to the end zone. By the time they got there, nearly every player on the defense had blood on his jersey from a Taco Bell block. Heat punched in the extra point, and we were up 7 to 0.
and they ran to Taco Bell's side all the way to the end zone. By the time they got there, nearly every player on the defense had blood on his jersey from a Taco Bell block. Heat punched in the extra point, and we were up 7 to 0.
Cyprus had come all the way to that stadium to win back what they thought was theirs. They showed up to redeem themselves, to teach us a lesson. What they found was a blood-covered crazyman who chopped up their defense like cordwood. They were stunned at the first score.
We kicked off, and Cyprus met psycho number two, Spray Can. At the last minute, Ray showed up at the game. I swear you could smell him. That odor of gasoline and grease swept through the stadium. Spray Can caught the smell and it made him crazy, it reminded him of what it was he was trying to prove. He played every minute of that game at full speed. He made the tackle on the kickoff. He blitzed on the first play and hit the fullback head-on two yards behind the line of scrimmage. He collapsed the corner on the sweep the next play and took two blockers with him before colliding with the halfback. Cyprus tried one more play, this one away from Spray Can, but they gained only a yard and had to punt on the next down. They were totally confused.
“Somebody block him!” the quarterback yelled, pointing at Spray Can.
Spray Can just smiled. Nobody could stop him, and he knew it.
Our offense took the field just as the trainer was telling me I had broken a bone in my hand. He was poking at a lump behind my knuckles and I turned away because it hurt. I looked downfield at the gate we had climbed and was thinking about our ritual the night before. Then I saw Darrel walking in slowly, pushing something. I looked closer. It was a wheelchair he was pushing, it was my father in a wheelchair.
“Tape it,” I said to the trainer.
“What?” he answered.
“Tape it,” I yelled at him.
“Okay,” he said.
First he taped my hand so it couldn't move.
“Leave my thumb out so I can catch,” I said to him.
He just shook his head and did what I told him. And while he taped, I watched my father. He hardly moved. Darrel wheeled him up to the corner of the end zone and made sure he was warm. He tucked the blanket tightly around him. Then he disappeared for a moment, and returned with a chair so he could sit with my father. They sat there, the two of them, seeming so different. Darrel so big and strong. No worries, just a whole life ahead of him. And my father, withered and having only a few days left in a life that had been long and hard.
Heat and Stones put on another good show, but it wasn't enough and we had to punt before we got to midfield. So while Spray Can confused and destroyed their offense again, the trainer finished taping my hand. It looked like a big club. He had taped it tight so that it wouldn't move; then he taped a pad on it so I wouldn't hurt it again. By the time Cyprus was punting the ball, I was standing next to Coach. He looked at me, wondering what I was doing. I don't think he planned on seeing me the rest of the game. Then he smiled.
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