by Neil Hayes
Britt was a natural athlete, a perennial all-star shortstop in Little League. But mostly he wanted to play football.
They had already applied for admission into De La Salle when they saw an ad for Ladouceur’s Championship Football Camp. Rick was curious to see if Britt could withstand the scrutiny of high-level coaching. He wanted to know just how good Britt really was.
Britt was named the camp’s most valuable player.
“That struck us,” Rick said. “We were sitting there thinking, ‘God, no, he couldn’t possibly be the MVP.’ This is the preeminent coach in the country and he’s saying all these wonderful things about my son. It was crystal-clear validation to us about why we came to this camp.”
Britt’s future at De La Salle was sealed when he attended an open house at the school and heard a graduating senior speak. The motto of Lasallian schools is: Enter to learn, leave to serve. That was the message of the speech, but it was the delivery that sold Britt on De La Salle.
“He didn’t play sports, but he talked about what it was like to be a Spartan,” Britt recalls. “I was blown away. The guy was eighteen and he sounded like he was forty. When we walked out I said, ‘Wow, I really want to come here.’ ”
Livermore is an eclectic community of 75,000 that is located some thirty-five miles from De La Salle’s campus. The commute takes anywhere between forty-five minutes and two hours depending on traffic. It would be a twice-daily chore. Paying the then $7,100 for tuition meant that the Cecils wouldn’t be able to purchase the new home they coveted.
Britt displayed his acceptance letter on the wall of his bedroom. He entered school that fall with Ladouceur’s praise echoing in his head.
It would be three years before he would hear it again. Britt was the starting freshman quarterback when he pulled a muscle during the fourth game of the season.
He had been unable to find a niche on campus. He hung out mainly with the few kids he knew from Livermore. They were the ones who suggested he blow off practice. He jumped in a car with his friends and soon a pipe was being passed and marijuana smoke filled the inside of the car.
The news spread fast. Britt’s friends boasted about how they had spent their afternoon and soon the whole campus knew. Britt still believed his secret was safe when Ladouceur appeared at his locker the next morning.
“Where were you yesterday?” Ladouceur asked.
“Doing homework,” Britt replied, quickly.
Ladouceur nodded. “Did you tell your coach?”
“No, I had a teammate tell Coach,” Britt answered honestly.
“That’s not acceptable,” Ladouceur said. “Talk to your coach yourself.”
The dean of students wields great power at De La Salle. There is no school board. The Spartan Life Handbook explains rules and potential consequences. Aliotti metes out suspensions and expulsions on a case-by-case basis.
The policy states that possession, transfer, or being under the influence of any controlled substance can result in immediate suspension. The student may also be placed on “contract,” which can include drug counseling and/or testing and requires strict adherence to the other rules outlined in the handbook.
Aliotti will immediately suspend and often expel a student caught selling drugs. A student caught using is put on contract, which can be terminated at Aliotti’s discretion.
Britt Cecil was suspended for two days and not allowed to participate in athletics until Aliotti decided otherwise. The worst part was what Aliotti told him when he pulled him aside after the meeting.
“How does it feel to lie to Coach Lad’s face?”
Britt felt the nausea rising in his stomach before the words were out of Aliotti’s mouth. He had lied to the man he wanted to impress more than anyone. Ladouceur knew how he had spent the previous afternoon when he questioned Britt earlier that morning.
Britt wanted to run. He felt unworthy. He respected Ladouceur so much and was convinced that such respect would never be reciprocated.
Paige was devastated. Why spend all that money on private-school tuition if Britt was going to get into the kind of trouble they were trying to shield him from? Rick was enraged. He had sacrificed time and money to enroll his son at De La Salle, and this was how Britt was repaying them?
“I hope you’re happy,” he told his son.
The threat of expulsion hung in the air. Rick and Paige met with Aliotti and were relieved to learn that he was forgiving.
“I was interested to see if De La Salle wanted to wash their hands of him or give him a chance at redemption,” Rick said. “They were willing to give him a second chance, but he had to prove it, not just say it.”
Aliotti made it clear that if Britt made one more mistake he was gone.
“I was looking forward to transferring to Livermore at first,” Britt said. “I talked to my parents and they were so disappointed. They didn’t want me to give in that easily. I went back to De La Salle for my parents first. It wasn’t until later that I realized I’d done it for myself, too.”
Britt went out for the freshman basketball team even though he would not be allowed to participate in the games. He set his alarm clock for 4:30 a.m. to attend 6 a.m. practices. Rick dropped him off and Britt waited in the predawn darkness for the gym door to be unlocked.
He traveled with the team to all the games and watched in street clothes. He received the news in December. Aliotti was satisfied. Britt could play.
“I wasn’t sure they were paying attention to me,” Britt said. “Them giving me permission to play made me realize they were watching my progress and were curious to see which way I would go. I wanted to prove to them that I would go the right way.”
He still felt like a parolee. Lying to Ladouceur lowered the ceiling on his expectations. As far as he knew, he would carry the stigma across the stage on graduation day.
“When I was suspended it set a boundary for me, or at least that’s what I thought,” he recalls. “I didn’t know what I was allowed to say to him or what I could ask.”
★ ★ ★
Britt was getting pulverized in the first half of the first junior varsity game during his sophomore year. His offensive line wasn’t picking up blitzing defenders. Britt got up more slowly after every hit, his body language telling everyone that this wasn’t his fault.
De La Salle trailed 16–0 at halftime when Ladouceur walked into the locker room. “Where’s the quarterback?” he demanded.
Britt raised a tentative hand from the back of the room.
“What are you doing in the back? Sit in front. You’re the quarterback. You’re supposed to be the leader.”
Britt said nothing.
“Are you hurt?” Ladouceur asked.
Britt mumbled, “No.”
“Then why are you getting up so slow?” Ladouceur asked.
Britt remained silent.
“Get out there and lead the team in the second half,” Ladouceur told him.
Britt was shaken by the exchange but engineered two second-half scoring drives to pull the Spartans to 16–14. Two potential go-ahead touchdowns were called back because of penalties, and his receiver was pushed out of bounds at the 1-yard line as time expired.
The JV team didn’t lose another game. Britt threw for 900 yards that season and rushed for nearly 500 more. He bounced up whenever he got knocked down.
“At first it scared me,” Britt said, recalling the scolding. “But then I realized he was watching me. That’s what I most wanted to know.”
As a junior Cecil began his first year under Ladouceur’s direct tutelage with no aspirations beyond being the third-string quarterback. He would get out of his season whatever he put into it. He wanted to redeem himself for the mistake he’d made two years before.
His enthusiasm waned as the season dragged on. There was no pressure, no urgency given his status with the team. He was the long snapper for punts and field goals and the scout team quarterback. He kept his head down and mouth shut, avoiding Ladouceur at all co
sts.
“Lad is a mysterious man,” Britt says. “You never know what’s going on with him. I wanted to know what he would do. He didn’t do anything. I wanted to know what he was thinking, but there was no way to figure that out.”
Britt found himself in Aliotti’s office once again the following spring. Graduating seniors were misbehaving in class and Britt had followed their lead.
“What now?” Ladouceur wanted to know. “When are you going to snap out of it and become the quarterback of this team? We’ve got guys behind you who can step up and do the job. Let us know what you want to do.”
That was the problem. Britt didn’t know what he was supposed to do. He was supposed to act like the varsity quarterback, but what did that mean? He didn’t know what was expected of him and was too intimidated to ask.
Ladouceur wanted Britt to figure that out for himself.
“I don’t think Ladouceur does anything that’s not calculated,” Rick said. “The proof is in the pudding. The kid is growing up. It was a fantastic lesson for him. We couldn’t have planned it better.”
★ ★ ★
Players finish eating the night before the Poly game and are inside watching television while coaches finish their pasta on the back deck of the home hosting the Thursday night meeting.
“Wouldn’t it be nice to have just one of their kids?” Aliotti asks, referring to Long Beach Poly’s roster.
“Number sixty’s twelve-year-old brother could start for us,” Alumbaugh says, as if repeating a well-known fact.
They break into groups then. Poly has outscored its four previous opponents by an average of 42–9 thanks largely to a potent passing attack that features senior quarterback Leon Jackson and junior receiver Derrick Jones, who wants to redeem himself after dropping three potential touchdown passes against De La Salle in the 2001 game.
De La Salle cornerbacks Damon Jenkins and Willie Glasper are fast, but they aren’t as fast as Jones, who has been clocked at 10.3 seconds in the one hundred meter and is averaging 38 yards per catch through the first four games.
Eidson is the first to speak after players gather in the garage, a stuffed deer’s head looking down upon the assemblage. Fishing poles and skis rest on rafters. A metal locker filled with canned goods sits along a wall next to a dartboard.
He tells the team that Poly has yet to acknowledge that De La Salle had been the better team the year before. Everything he heard and read from the Jackrabbits after the 2001 game focused on missed opportunities, how they would’ve won if they had just converted on a few of those fourth downs and caught a few more passes. Not once, Eidson says, has he heard anybody from Poly acknowledge that the better team won.
He calls Poly a “numbers team.” All people talk about is how fast they run, how much weight they can lift, and how many yards they average per carry and catch. All people talk about is how many players they have sent to Division-I colleges and the NFL.
…If you guys play with heart, we’ll be fine. It’s just a matter of executing tomorrow. That’s what it comes down to. If we drop the ball and give those guys great field position, and we keep our defense on the field all game like we did in the second half last year, we’re going to run into problems. If we don’t cover on special teams, we’re going to run into problems. I knew this team was going to get progressively better. I think you’re primed offensively and defensively to put it together.…
Jim Caviezel as “Bob Ladouceur” and Laura Dern as his wife, “Beverly.”
Jesse Usher plays “Tayshon Lanear,” a player who struggles to grasp De La Salle’s definition of team.
Left to right: Matthew Daddario as “Danny Ladouceur,” Margaret Wycoff, Anna Margaret as “Laurie,” and Alexander Ludwig as “Chris Ryan” gather at a diner based on a hangout frequented by De La Salle players.
“Laurie” and “Chris” share a private moment after the game.
Jim Caviezel, who plays “Coach Lad,” wanted to use the same terminology that De La Salle coaches use in real life.
“Chris Ryan” must overcome his domineering father, played by Clancy Brown.
The filmmakers spent time in the De La Salle locker room so scenes such as this would be realistic.
“Chris Ryan” attempts to break the state touchdown record.
“Danny Ladouceur” and “Chris Ryan” congratulate “Coach Lad” after a big win.
Michael Chiklis and Jim Caviezel play best friends and longtime coaching partners Terry Eidson and Bob Ladouceur.
Terry Eidson and Michael Chiklis discovered they have a lot in common, including a love for hard rock music.
Bob Ladouceur meets Jim Caviezel for the first time while shooting a scene at the field where Peyton and Eli Manning played.
Keep your wits about you. We could get behind tomorrow. That’s a definite scenario. We could get behind by two touchdowns. That could happen. Don’t panic. Stay together. Don’t get intimidated if something goes wrong because I know the one thing we’ve got going for us that they don’t have—and I don’t care what they say—they don’t have the grit and desire that you have. They have not put in the time that you have.
Personally, I don’t think they care as much as you. They talk about how they do but I don’t buy it, not one bit. You’ll beat them tomorrow and they’ll go, “Ah, we’ve got the Southern Section to win, that’s our goal.” They’ve got their excuses ready. This game means more to you than it does to them. I’ll always believe that.
It’s always about their accomplishments later. They’ve got thirty-nine guys in the NFL. Great. This is a high school football game. We’re not trying to beat them in the NFL. They would beat us in an NFL game. Congratulations. But we’re not playing in the NFL tomorrow, and we’re 1–0 against them in high school. This game isn’t played on video. It won’t be played on the back of a football card. It’s played on the field.
It’s a great opportunity. I don’t know what more you’d want as a high school football player. This is a dream come true. It’s déjà vu all over again. It’s another great game. It’s the talk of the country. Sports Illustrated, ESPN the Magazine, USA Today—they’re all going to be there for this game. That shows you the interest. You get to play a great game. I suggest you go balls out and enjoy every minute of it.
Everybody is waiting to hear what Ladouceur will say. This is the biggest game of the year, an even bigger game than last year if for no other reason than De La Salle is less proven.
There is great anticipation, even among the assistant coaches, as Ladouceur rises to speak. He starts by reminding players to check their equipment. He doesn’t want them coming out of the game because of a loose facemask or because the strings holding their shoulder pads together have broken. They had better attend to those details before the game because the equipment is going to get some wear.
Two things I want to mention tonight, just two.
I don’t know if I agree with Coach Eidson. I agree with a lot of what he said but I don’t know if I agree one hundred percent with what he said. Some of the things I’ve read in the paper indicate that this team may be a little different than last year’s team. Last year all those guys fought for attention, to get the ball, and they complained when it didn’t happen for them. Some of the things I read gave me the indication that they have come together more as a team. They say they don’t care who gets the carries. I don’t know if it’s true or not. We’ll see.
One quote in particular I paid attention to. Someone off that team actually gave you guys a compliment and that was [Freddie] Parish. It was an offhanded compliment. They essentially said, “They weren’t intimidated by you guys at all.” But Parish said, “They play differently. Their hearts are as big as their chests.” I thought that was a real compliment coming from a Poly player. That indicated that they understand something they didn’t understand previously. That kind of concerns me because I think they’re going to take you seriously tomorrow, a lot more seriously. What concerns me most is, is he talking ab
out last year’s team or is he talking about you guys?
Is your heart actually as big as your chest? That’s a good question you have to answer tomorrow. Is he correct in that assessment? Tomorrow is the test for that. The test for that isn’t against Clayton Valley or Liberty, it’s against Poly. That’s the test for that.
The other thing I want to say tonight is this. You guys are all going to have to individually—I’m not talking collectively, I’m not talking as a team—individually you are going to have to make a decision tonight. The decision is, are you willing to play through the discomfort to play a great game tomorrow? Playing a great game individually isn’t going to be easy. It isn’t going to be comfortable.
You’re going to be tired, you’re going to get fatigued, you’re going to get hit, you may even get your bell rung. You may get an ouch here and a hurt there [he points to his thigh, his elbow] and a pop in the back. It’s not going to be easy and you need to make the decision tonight. Can you live with that and can you work through that?
That’s the scare factor of football. That’s what I remember from the game, that I had to individually decide, how am I going to play this game tomorrow? Am I going to look for chances to take plays off? Am I going to look for chances to rest on a series or when the play is going away from me and I can get away with it? All those things present themselves in a game, and you guys have to decide how you’re going to do that before you get on the field. You have to search your own heart.
In a certain sense, it’s like walking on hot coals. You know it’s coming, you’re not going to like it. You know it’s going to be uncomfortable, going to hurt, and all that other shit but you still have to do it if you want to play well. The sooner you decide I can go through this, I can do it, the more prepared you’re going to be and the better you’re going to play.…
