Junior Year Box Set

Tonight was the Orange and Blue game. Coach Hope had said we would run it like a regular football game, and that my team had to use the visitors locker room. Poor Alan was about to have a meltdown. He had never played competitive sports before (brief appearances at Little League notwithstanding), so this was a whole new experience for him. I smiled when he snapped at me as I walked in.

“Why weren’t you here early?” Alan asked.

“Easy, boss. I’m here now.”

“Okay, what should I be doing?” he asked.

“Didn’t Moose or Coach Stevens tell you?”

“No, they’re no help. They keep looking to me and saying I’m in charge. I think Coach Hope put them up to it,” Alan complained.

I walked Alan into the visiting coach’s office where Moose and Coach Stevens were cracking jokes. When they saw me with Alan, they both grinned.

“You picked us last,” Moose accused me.

“No one else wanted you,” I shot back. “You guys want to stick it to Coach Zoon and Coach Hope?”

Coach Stevens rolled his eyes and Moose looked like he might get a migraine, but they agreed to help Alan. Like I suspected, they were just giving him a hard time. I found Becky, one of our trainers, taping ankles. I got mine done before a line started to form. Something that would be sure to give me a bad day would be to sprain my ankle in a scrimmage.

Since I was early, there was time for me to see if the Booster Club had a food tent. With Mom and Dad gone, I hadn’t eaten anything for dinner, so I was hungry. I was surprised to see they had installed the temporary stands we brought in for big games. It also seemed a little crowded for so early. When I walked into the food tent, it was packed with recruiters and press. Of course, Jeff Delahey, our local print sports reporter, saw me and motioned for me to come in.

“If it isn’t Elite 11 Co-MVP, David Dawson!” he announced.

I decided right then that he wouldn’t get any preferential treatment this year. I was soon swarmed by reporters all wanting to get an exclusive. I held up my hands to slow them down.

“Hold on, stop! Let me get something to eat and then we can do this,” I announced.

It was remarkable that the college recruiters made a path for me so I could talk to Mrs. Sullivan, the president of the Booster Club.

“We have hot dogs, burgers, chicken, and brats. What do you want?” she asked me.

I saw the chicken floating in barbecue sauce. I pointed at the chicken, and she sent me to find a table. Mrs. Sullivan would fix me up, so I went over to where Jeff sat and plopped down next to him. Typically, we would draw four or five reporters for a game. Tonight, there had to be twenty. I was surprised to see a few from the recruiting websites. We even had one from Chicago.

“I think you might have some competition tonight,” I commented to Jeff.

He didn’t get a chance to say anything because the flood of questions started. Jeff smirked when I launched into my ‘aw shucks’ routine. I made some bad jokes about how I was sure Lincoln would win tonight and identified our better players in Ty, Jake, Ed, Wolf, Tim, and Jim. Somehow, I forgot to mention Mike.

Mrs. Sullivan stopped the questioning when she brought me three chicken breasts with no barbecue sauce and steamed broccoli. Someone had clued her in that I was on a strict high-protein diet. After I ate, the questions began again. This time Jeff took charge.

“How are you doing with this being the first game you’ll play without your starting wideout and best friend, Jeff Rigger?”

I hadn’t been expecting that question and fell out of my usual press persona. I focused on the tent roof because I wasn’t able to look Jeff in the eyes. I was afraid my emotions might overcome me.

“Jeff represented everything that football and organized sports can do for you. I grew up with Jeff, and he was one of my best friends. He was a skinny, tall geek who seemed to keep us out of trouble. He was the level-headed one of the bunch. I talked Jeff into going out for football. I watched as he grew up before my eyes and became a confident young man who was going places.

“On the football field, we’ll miss Jeff for both his play and his leadership. One of our goals tonight is to identify his replacement.

“I wasn’t surprised when I heard Jeff had given his life trying to save a fellow student. That was Jeff in a nutshell,” I said, and then got choked up. “I’ll never forget my friend and teammate. He was the best of us and had so much potential. I know I’m not supposed to talk about my faith, but if it weren’t for prayer, I would have been lost. Jeff Rigger will be with me tonight in my heart.”