by Jim Andersen
CHAPTER 10
A DIFFICULT LESSON
Tony was truly the hero and the darling of the school. To those who thought he was lucky in the Wilton game, he had now proven that it was more than luck. Lowry was supposed to be a solid team, but they fell by a larger score than Wilton did.
Fans were certain that Tony was better than Tom Brown, and maybe he was the best back ever to play at Foxville. Nothing, now, could stand in Tony’s way. He would certainly run over all of the teams as he had Wilton and Lowry.
Everyone wanted to shake his hand at the dance. Some alumni told him how much better he was than the greats of other years. The girls did everything possible to get to dance with him, or to even be seen with him.
“Poor Tony,” said Mrs. Miller to her husband as they danced near the crowd around Tony, “if he doesn’t lose his sense of values over this, he’ll be immune for life.”
“Yes, it’s a shame they can’t leave him alone. He is good partly because he is so trusting and humble. If they don’t leave him alone, he will soon become conceited.” Mr. Miller could see the consequences of heaping praise on a pure, simple, unaffected lad.
They didn’t leave him alone though. All evening it was the same, heaping of praise onto him. Saturday as he went to have his haircut, fans stopped him on the street to tell him they had seen him. In the barbershop, both barbers and customers continued the congratulations.
Some senior girls had a party on Saturday night and the hostess invited Tony who immediately became the hit of the party. The girl who invited him became quite angry when the other girls tried to share his attention.
Even at church Tony was congratulated on his success by the preacher and many of the congregation. Wherever he turned, people reminded him that he had done a great job in winning the games for Foxville High School.
By Monday, when he returned to school, Tony was thoroughly and completely saturated with ideas of his greatness. He now knew that he was the team, the best backfield man in the league and maybe would even be on the high school All-American team. “Foxville High School is lucky to have me going to this school,” he thought. “After all I could just as well be scoring touchdowns for any school in the country.”
“Oh, no!” was Mr. Andrews’ only audible comment as he observed Tony coming down the hall holding hands with one of the senior girls between classes Monday. Tony liked like a lost lamb being led home, but as he passed the coach he said nothing - - only a broad grin crossed his face.
Other players often walked the halls holding hands with girls. No senior girl in her right mind would be seen holding hands with a sophomore boy, but Tony was no ordinary sophomore. He was - - well, he was Tony.
On Monday the practice was mainly running, doing loosening up exercises and a few blocking drills. It was not a very good practice. A change of attitude had occurred since the previous week. Everyone felt it, but no one spoke about it except the coaches.
“Do you suppose they think they are champs already?” asked Mr. Miller. He thought maybe complacency had overtaken the team.
“I don’t know,” answered Mr. Andrews, “but they aren’t the same gang of fellows. Let’s hope it is just that Monday-after feeling.”
“Wait up, kid, I’ll walk home with you,” Guts called to Tony, who usually waited for him but tonight hurried out before Guts was ready.
“Not tonight, Guts. Marion is waiting for me. She’s got the car and she’s gonna give me a ride home. Should I ask her to give you a ride?”
“No! Don’t bother, I’d rather walk.”
Tony and Guts had become good friends after Tony had helped to have Guts restored to the team. In spite of the age difference, they were natural buddies. Both were big town boys transplanted into a small town. Neither had any close friends, nor could they easily make friends with people. Both had many acquaintances and were well liked by their schoolmates. They had a common interest in football. Through this interest, they overcame many barriers and cemented a close friendship.
When Dean walked home, which was most of the time, he had to go past Tony’s house to the place where he could cut across the field. Naturally, they walked together, usually talking about all kinds of things.
Dean took the role of a father and preached to the “Kid”, as Guts kept calling Tony. He constantly offered advice from his limited background. While he sincerely felt that his advice would help the younger boy to become a better man, it was doing Guts more good. He was unconsciously learning the lesson that in helping others, you also help yourself.
“I don’t know why I should be mad at the kid for not wanting to walk home with me,” mumbled Guts to himself as he plodded homeward. There were probably two good reasons if he would have admitted it.
One reason Guts was angry was because his routine had been upset again. He had enjoyed talking to Tony on these walks; now it seemed that he would lose this friend.
Another reason Guts was angry was because he felt that Tony was being played for a sucker. The girl who was devoting her attention to him did not like Tony; she was only interested in herself and what she could gain by being seen with the star football player.
Marion had made the rounds with the senior boys, but no one went with her for long. She had a reputation of being “spoiled”. Her folks had plenty of money, and she spent much of it for clothes, parties and fun. When she wanted anything, she usually could get it - - except friendship. Now, she was playing with the closest friend Guts had, and he resented it.
Tony skipped practice Tuesday, much to the surprise of the team. They had seen him in school, and he didn’t seem to be sick. No one had been told he would be missing.
Marion met Tony after his last class and asked him to go for a ride with her.
“I’ve gotta practice after school,” he protested mildly.
”Oh, that!” Marion said pulling on his arm, “they’ll get along without you. You come with me and we’ll have some fun. As good as YOU are, you don’t need to practice every day.”
“Where’s Tony?” asked Coach Andrews when he brought the team together at the mound.
“Maybe he’s sick,” someone said on his behalf.
“I saw him this afternoon and he didn’t look sick,” said the coach.
“Maybe one of his brothers or sisters was sick and he had to go home,” spoke up Fry who feared the worst and thought Mr. Andrews might put Tony off the team.
“Well, he had better have a good excuse,” Mr. Andrews said, “He needs practice as much as the rest of you do. I hope he doesn’t think he knows it all yet. That goes for some of the rest of you fellows, too. In this game, when you’re through learning, you’re through playing.”
To the players and coaches this practice seemed like it was just a routine. Nothing seemed to go well. Without Tony the team lacked the spark it usually had. The whole practice seemed to be just going through the motions.
When Coach Andrews found Tony in school the next morning, he said, “Tony, I’m glad to see you recovered from your sickness so quickly. You had me worried.”
“I wasn’t sick, Coach.”
“Oh? Then where were you last night?”
“I didn’t go to practice. Did you miss me?”
“We noticed you weren’t there, if that’s what you mean.”
“Well,” said the backfield star in a light tone, “I didn’t think I would need the practice, so I went for a ride with Marion.”
“You’re part of the team, Tony, and we need you out at practice. You would be handicapped if you lost one of your hands. The team is handicapped when it loses one of its hands. You get to practice tonight. And, don’t skip practice again or I’ll ask you to turn in your equipment.”
“O.K., Coach.”
Tony was present at Wednesday night’s practice. This in itself, however, did not return everything to normal.
The real problem began to make itself known when Tony and Joe had an exchange of words. Jo
e called for a play where Tony followed the fullback into the line. The ball was faked to the fullback and then fumbled when Joe tried to give it to Tony.
“Will ya gimme the ball so I can run,” barked the little halfback at the quarterback.
“You were in too soon. Time your move better,” came back the quick reply. Thus, the things which the boys had been thinking to themselves were finally breaking into words.
On the next play Tony came in to get the ball. Joe put it into his stomach as he had done hundreds of times before in games and practices.
Tony stopped after getting the ball, turned to Joe and yelled, “Don’t slam it in so hard. What ya tryin’ to do, slow me up? You afraid I’ll look too good?”
Another complaint was registered soon. Joe called for a pass pattern which had Tony going deep. Joe threw the ball over Tony’s head. An incomplete pass is nothing to become excited about. It sometimes happens to the best professional quarterbacks, but Tony was determined to make an issue of it.
Returning to the huddle, Tony walked up to Joe and said, “You better put in some extra time practicing your passes. Or, are you just trying to wear me out?”
Coach Andrews finally put Smitty into the lineup in Tony’s place. He took Tony by the arm and walked him a short distance from the others. “What’s the matter, Tony? Are you feeling alright?”
“Sure, I’m fine. Those guys must be sick. They’re the ones who are doin’ it wrong,” complained the young player as he stood uneasily next to the coach.
After giving him time to cool off, Coach Andrews sent Tony back to the team and to his regular position. Again, it was the same story. This time he tangled with Guts.
The team had been trying to run the reverse but they were having difficulty working out their timing. Mr. Andrews had them run the same play several times. The defensive end knew what was coming so he moved in to stop it. Guts pulled out to block the end but had to go a little wider than normal. Tony, with the ball, ran into Guts as Guts was trying to block for him.
Tony stopped, slammed the ball to the ground and yelled at the big center, “Will ya get outta my way so I can run with the ball?”
Again Coach Andrews took Tony out of the practice. “What’s wrong, Tony?” he asked. “Something isn’t right.”
“Nothin’s wrong with me; I told ya. It’s them guys. How can I run if a blocker steps in front of me?”
“Last Friday you could sidestep the whole Lowry team. Today you can’t even get around your own blocker.”
“It’s not my fault anyway.”
When the practice was finished, most of the players felt that it had been a waste of time. Other than the exercise, they had gained very little. The plays didn’t work well even against the second team. For the first time friction had broken out among the players. It left a very uneasy feeling among them. “Would it be the same way Friday at Argonne?” they wondered.
When the boys came to practice Thursday, they were met with a sign on the door “Locker room meeting tonight - - no equipment,” signed by the coach.
“Maybe we are getting stale, so we won’t practice tonight. The way we have been going this week, it probably wouldn’t do us any good anyway. We’ll talk for a little while and then go home early,” the coach began his talk.
The talk touched on conditioning and training. Mental attitude was discussed at some length because it seemed to Mr. Andrews that this was at the root of their troubles. He talked about cooperation and team effort rather than each playing as an individual. He tried to say the things which needed saying without getting personal. Time would tell whether his talk had done any good.
Coach Andrews finished his talk by telling the boys that they had two games to win if they wanted to be conference champions, but they would have to win them both. With this thought he ended his oration and dismissed the team for the day.
Guts walked home with Tony. There was very little conversation between them. Guts tried to talk with Tony but received little more than grunts in reply.
Captain Cain was thinking a lot about the situation the team was in. He stayed after the lecture to talk to Mr. Andrews about it.
“I think the trouble is mainly over Tony,” the captain began while Coach Andrews listened. “He’s the hero of the school. Everybody thinks he’s the whole team. Some of the boys don’t like the way he gets all the credit while they do the work. I guess we thought he was cute at first, but now he makes us sick the way he acts. What’re we gonna do, Coach?”
Coach Andrews thought rather than answer immediately. This analysis was about the way he had figured it out, too. Tony had been the big scorer and, now, thought he was too god for the team. But, what does a coach tell his players in a case like this?
“Maybe we are just exaggerating this thing, Wayne,” said the coach to his captain. “Perhaps our little talk tonight will help. How would it be if we wait to change anything? We’ll see what happens in the game tomorrow. Probably the whole team will pick up where they left off last Friday.”
“Gee, I don’t know,” said Cain slowly, “but I don’t know what else to do either.” Then after a pause he said, “He’s the most valuable player we have. We couldn’t score until he joined us; then he got us going. We need him.”
“I’m aware of that, Wayne,” added the coach, “That’s why I think we shouldn’t do anything now to upset it. Let’s see if we can’t get back on the winning trail without any trouble.”
“And, if it doesn’t work, what do we do then?” asked Cain.
“There will be time to do something else.”
“I guess we’ll have to depend on the defense to win this one,” said Cain, still not convinced that the offense would correct itself. “Maybe we can intercept a pass or score on a fumble.”
“O.K.” laughed Mr. Andrews, trying to assure Cain.
“Well, we just gotta win,” said Cain.
The crowd at Argonne Township High School was one of the largest they had had that season. It was even larger than normal because of Foxville fans that sensed that they were on the championship trail. Many people who hadn’t been to an out-of-town game in years followed the team to this one. Foxville fans soon filled the bleachers provided for them, and lined the wire fence around the field.
No one in the crowd appeared aware of the conflict among the players. When Cain led the team onto the field, a great cheer greeted them. This was the kind of atmosphere Coach Andrews hoped would smooth over the differences.
Cain won the flip of the coin but chose to kick rather than receive. After the usual sideline huddle with the coach, Cain called the kicking team together around the ball. “Look, gang,” he pleaded in desperate tones, “You all know how lousy our offense has been this week. If we’re gonna win, it’ll have to be done by us, not the backs. Can we hold‘em?”
“Yea” - - “sure we can” - - “will do” - - “we’ll hold‘em.” These were the replies to his question as the team broke the huddle to prepare for the kick-off.
The kick was a good one. With the light wind behind it, the ball carried almost to the end zone. The tackling was sharp and the black and gold “Eagles” had to start from their 17 yard line. Three plays from scrimmage netted them minus yardage when the “Foxes” defense stopped them cold. The “Eagles” punted and the “Foxes” took over the ball about mid-field.
With the ball in their possession Coach Andrews sent Tony into the game. When the now familiar number 5 ran out to take his place with the team, the spectators gave a roar of applause and many began chanting, “Tony - - Tony.”
“I hope they won’t be disappointed in their hero,” Mr. Andrews said to his assistant. “If he doesn’t come out of his poor attitude we’re sunk.”
Tony tried his best to do the job expected of him, but his attitude didn’t change when he entered the game. He still felt that he was the star and the team depended on him. With this idea in his mind, he did no bet
ter than he had done in practice.
The fans were a little disappointed that the “Foxes” weren’t running all over the “Eagles” from the beginning. The first three plays failed to get the yardage needed and the “Foxes” punted the ball to the home team.
After being replaced by defensive men, Tony and Joe jogged back to the bench.
“How come you only called my play once?” asked Tony, “I can’t make any touchdowns unless ya give me more chances to run.”
“You didn’t gain anything on that one did you?” asked Joe.
“Well, I couldn’t even get through the line. I can’t run if they don’t get out of my way,” barked Tony as they sat on the bench to watch the defense work.
Soon the Foxville team had the ball again. Again, it was the same story. They tried three plays but failed to get the needed ten yards. The ball was given back to the opponents.
This pattern continued through the first quarter. Only two first downs were made by the “Foxes” while they held the “Eagles” to one. Each time Tony carried he was prevented from gaining any yardage by some mistake. He always managed to find some excuse – though to the team it was obviously lack of teamwork which was at fault.
In the second quarter it was much the same as in the first quarter. Joe tried to pass but with little enthusiasm and little success.
About halfway through the second quarter Cain called for a time out. He trotted over to the sideline to meet with the coach.
“Coach, we gotta do something about Tony.”
“I’ll send Smitty in. We’ll see if that helps.”
“Can we try something with him first?”
“What do you have in mind?” the coach asked his captain.
“He’s a good kid, but he’s got a big head. He thinks we’re in his way. Can we give him the ball a couple of times and let him get smeared good. Maybe we can show him that he needs to work with us.”
“Let’s try - - “Coach began, but was interrupted.
Cain continued, “Then if you take him out maybe he will be ready to play with us the next half.”
“O.K. - - try it. I only hope he doesn’t get hurt.”
“He won’t; he’s too tough for that,” called Cain trotting back to the huddle.
Once back with his team, Cain explained what they would do. “Joe, call a couple of Tony’s plays,” then to the line he added, “Tony thinks we get in his way. This time let’s see what he can do without us. When he gets the ball, we watch.” Finally, to Tony he said, “Let’s see what you can do without our help. We won’t be in your way this time.”
When the whistle blew calling the teams back to action Coach Andrews was telling Mr. Miller what Cain had proposed doing. He ended by saying, “This should be good. You know, I wouldn’t be surprised to see Tony score all by himself.”
Such was not the case, though. Joe called for a quick opener with Tony going straight into the line from a regular “T” formation. He pushed the ball into Tony’s stomach just before Tony arrived at the line of scrimmage. Instead of blocking; both Cain and Whisk, who normally would have tried to block out the tacklers, stepped aside. Three defenders – the tackle, guard and linebacker – all had a clean shot at the ball carrier. The slap of pads, as tackler and ball carrier met, could be heard all over the stadium. “Ugh,” was the only sound Tony made as he fell to the ground for a loss of yardage.
After the whistle Tony bounced up like a rubber ball ready to try again. Grins covered the faces of the rest of the team. No one said, “We told you.” They didn’t have to say it.
“How about an end sweep, Joe?” asked Tony.
“Sure” replied Joe, “anything your little old heart desires.”
Joe called for a left end sweep from the “flea-flicker.” Tony went in motion, took the ball as it was pitched to him and headed for the left end. All of the blockers watched instead of trying to help. Tony was like a sitting duck in a shooting gallery. The “Eagles” in their black shirts swarmed all over Tony, throwing him for an eight yard loss.
Coach Andrews covered his eyes as his halfback was battered to the ground. Tony jumped up quickly, no worse for the jolting he took. When he returned to the huddle he realized how quiet the fans were, except for a few “boos.”
“What will it be now, Tony?” Joe asked.
“Try a cross and make the fake good.”
“O.K., 161 left cross,” Joe called. Then he added sarcastically, “and make the fake good.”
Jerry Kenowski made a dive toward the center while Joe faked a handoff to him. Tony started his pattern across the line, took the ball from Joe and started to look for running room. Three linemen were there to meet him. And meet him, they did. The little back bounced when he hit the turf but was up quickly.
“Punt, on two,” Joe called in the huddle. The “Foxes” gave the ball back to Argonne and the defensive team went to work again.
Tony went to the bench, sat down, and put a towel on his head. His desire to be alone at this time was honored; no one talked to him. He just sat there and thought about his humiliation.
“Smitty, in for Tony,” coach said the next time they had the ball. Smitty took his place but they only ran two plays before the time was up for the first half.
Mr. Andrews started into the locker room; but he halted before opening the door. He just stood there waiting, and wondering what he could do or say that would help in this situation.
Guts didn’t hesitate though. He felt it was time for someone to tell Tony what the score was. He grabbed Tony by the arm and walked him through the locker room to the hall at the other end of the room. Backing the smaller and younger boy against the wall, Guts explained the situation to him.
“Well, hero, you ain’t doin’ so well are ya? What’s the matter with the ‘Mighty Mite’?” and then without waiting for an answer he continued, “I’ll tell ya what’s the matter. Everyone knows except you, and I’m gonna tell ya
“Just because you’re small, everybody thinks you’re cute. They write about you and talk about you because you’re younger than the rest of us. That was O.K. as long as you played WITH us.
“Then you got the idea that you were the star of the team and we were in your way. You were too good for us. You got yourself a big head - - all blown up like a balloon. Well, where’s your balloon now? It’s busted, ain’t it? You found out you couldn’t do anything by yourself, didn’t you?
“You oughta be ashamed of yourself thinkin’ you’re so hot and forgetting all that those other guys have done. Those guys do most of the work so you can run, and you hog all the credit. All you do is run on offense. What about the guys who play defense, you don’t think they’re part of the team.
“Well, I’ll tell you, mister wise guy, if you forget this hero stuff and start playin’ ball with us again, we’ll be a team and we can win. If you won’t, we all lose. Think about that.”
Guts had had his say, but he held Tony against the wall for a while longer letting him think about what he said. Then he relaxed his grip.
“Do you really think that way, Guts?” Tony asked in all seriousness, “Is that the way the other guys feel, too?”
“Yes, I’m afraid it is. We all like you, Kid, but not the way you been actin’ this week. You need us and we need you. We gotta be a team, or we don’t win.”
A look of understanding came over Tony’s face. He smiled and said, “You’re right, Guts. We’ve got work to do.”
They re-entered the locker room to hear the last part of the coach’s halftime talk. Cain told Mr. Andrews where the two missing players were. He guessed why Guts had taken Tony aside and did not interrupt them.
Walking out to start the second half, Guts said to Mr. Andrews “Had a little talk with the Kid. I think he’ll be O.K. now.”
“Good,” said Mr. Andrews, “we certainly need him at his best.”
The “Foxes” received the kickoff and brought t
he ball back to the 33 yard line. Guts had passed the word along to the boys, and they were ready to help.
“Let’s try that 161 cross again,” called Joe for the first play from scrimmage, ”This time we work as a team.”
The ball was snapped, the fake made, then the handoff to Tony. Good blocks opened a big hole and Tony scampered for 11 yards and a first down. When he returned to the huddle, Tony surprised them all by giving credit to the lineman for their help.
“Nice block, Guts,” said Tony as he slapped Guts on the back. “Nice hole, Don, thanks,” he said nodding to the guard. Then he waited quietly for the next play to be called.
Several plays later after the ball had been advanced to the 41 yard line; Joe called for a slant pass. Tony, racing diagonally downfield between the defensive backs, caught the pass over his shoulder. He had a good start on the backs and easily outdistanced them to the goal line for the first touchdown of the evening.
Cheers from the visitor’s side shook the town of Argonne. The “Foxes” had scored. Tony had done it again. But, few noticed that Tony had changed his usual behavior pattern. Instead of trotting to the bench to receive the cheers of the fans in the stands, he turned and ran toward Joe.
“Nice pass, Joe, it was perfect,” said Tony sincerely as he shook the hand of the quarterback who had thrown the pass to him. Only then did he head for the bench where he received congratulations from the coaches and reserves.
Argonne managed to get two first downs before relinquishing the ball to the “Foxes” again. It was a vicious tackle by Guts that jarred the ball out of the ball carrier’s hands and Cain fell on it.
A short pass gained a first down on the 32 yard line. A sweep by Fry carried to the 18 yard line. Joe called on Tony to carry off tackle. He bounded through the opening made by Tiny and Augie Bent, used his vaulting stiff-arm on the cornerback and ran away from the pursuing defensive safety. He was tackled at the goal line but fell over the line for another touchdown.
Again Tony took time to come back to his blockers and thank them. When Tony left the game, Stan came in and again split the uprights to add another point and make the score 14 to 0.
The team was charged up once again. They yielded one first down before making the “Eagles” punt the ball to them. The offense marched almost 70 yards to make their third score. The touchdown came on a long pass from Joe to Jay Roberts. Fry and Tony had made the backs weary of their wide plays, making the fullback open on almost every play. When Jay went straight down the field, the backs were caught flatfooted.
The score now had the visitors leading 20 to 0. When Stan kicked the ball over the crossbar, the scoreboard changed to 21 to 0.
Completely demoralized by the sudden scores, the “Eagles” fumbled the kickoff and lost the ball when Cain fell on his second loose ball of the evening. This time the recovery was on the 13 yard line.
Only two plays were needed to get the score this time. Jerry Kenowski tried first on a slant-off-tackle but only gained about two yards. Tony was given the ball for an end sweep from the “Flea Flicker. With good blocks by Gene and Jerry, he turned the end easily and scored again. Before leaving the field, he went to the blockers and thanked them.
Blockers don’t expect thanks or even acknowledgement for their efforts. They expect that the backs will receive the press clippings and the glory which goes with carrying the ball. It made them feel better, though, when the back realized how much help their efforts had been and told them so.
Coach Andrews emptied his bench to give the substitutes a chance to play. They played well but weren’t able to score. The game ended with a score of 28 to 0.
A happy team boarded the bus for the return trip to Foxville. They reminded each other that now all they needed was a win over Elm Lane at home, and they would be the champions.
On the bus, as it led the noisy convoy of cars homeward, one of the players was not feeling well. Augie Bent got up from his seat and went to the front of the bus. He asked the driver to stop because he was getting sick.
The bus pulled over to the shoulder of the road in time to let Augie out and prevent the bus from being a mess. When Augie returned to the bus the trip was resumed. Coach Andrews had Augie sit next to him on the first seat of the bus. He asked, “Did this come on all of a sudden?”
“No, I haven’t felt good all day.”
“You were in school? Did you go to the nurse?”
“No, I think it’s the flu. Our whole family had it this week. All but me, I guess I’ve got it now.”
