by Jeff Rud
James had been able to leave the field on his own power. But the coach took one look at his quarterback and made a decision. “We’re going for the field goal now,” he said.
Charlie snapped up his helmet and headed onto the field. For the second straight Friday, the Stingers were lining up to kick a field goal on the final play of the game with the outcome hanging in the balance. And now they were doing it with a rookie kicker. Matt put his arm on Charlie’s shoulder. “It’s just like batting practice,” he said gently. Charlie stared at him blankly, then a crooked smile broke out across his face. Charlie had said exactly the same thing to him when he had gone up for a crucial at-bat during the baseball season. “I hear you,” he said.
Matt fielded the long snap cleanly from center Steve Donnelly and placed the ball nose down on the turf. He didn’t see Charlie’s motion as he addressed the kick but he felt the force of his right leg coming through the football, and he watched as it sailed cleanly through the uprights thirty yards away. It was a perfect kick. Charlie had delivered. Although there were still a few seconds left on the clock, South Side was up 13–10. Charlie had done it.
The Stingers’ bench was going crazy. The players mobbed Charlie as he trotted off the field, slapping him on the helmet and shoulder pads and chest-bumping him. Watching the scene unfold, Matt felt good for Charlie.
He didn’t have long to soak up the moment, however. Seconds later, Matt was back out on the field for the kickoff. Churchill had one more play in which to get back in the game. But there would be no miracle finish to this one. Charlie booted a solid kick to the five-yard line, and Jimmy Flynn was nailed at his own ten-yard line by Reggie Evans. The game was over.
chapter thirteen
Matt pulled off his football equipment, showered and dressed quickly. South Side had won the game in a terrific finish, but he wasn’t feeling nearly as relaxed and happy as his teammates. In fact he was downright nervous.
After the last football game, Matt’s father had said he’d like to meet some of his friends from the team. Matt had guessed it would be okay and hadn’t thought too much more about it. But his dad had phoned a couple of nights later, offering to take him and some buddies out for burgers following the Churchill game. His mom had seemed okay with it, so Matt had agreed. But now he was nervous, and he wasn’t sure exactly why.
Matt had invited Phil and Charlie to join him and his dad for the dinner at O’Regans, a local burger place not far from the school. So after Charlie had finished dressing and receiving the umpteenth round of congratulations from everyone in the dressing room, he joined Matt and Phil at the door. “Let’s go,” he said, smiling. “I’m starving.”
Outside they spotted Matt’s father, parked along Anderson, across from the school. His dad climbed out of the driver’s seat.
“Hey, guys,” he said, extending his large hand first to Phil and then to Charlie. “I’m Matt’s dad.”
“This is Phil and this is Charlie—they’re two of my best friends,” Matt said.
“Great to meet you both. You guys hungry?”
Phil and Charlie nodded. They all hopped into the suv. It was quiet on the ride to the restaurant, until his father stuck a cd in the stereo and cranked up the volume. It was the Red Hot Chili Peppers. Until now, Matt had never considered the possibility that his dad might actually like decent modern music.
The four of them quickly loosened up over a dinner of cheeseburgers, fries and chocolate shakes and plenty of talk about football. After a physical game like the one against Churchill in the crisp autumn air, the food tasted awfully good. “That was a great game tonight,” Matt’s dad said. “And a terrific clutch kick, Charlie.”
“Not bad for his first game ever,” Matt piped up proudly.
His dad looked confused. Matt filled him in on what had happened that week with Ricky Jackson being suspended and the coach having to audition kickers to find a replacement.
“Sounds like your team has been through its share of drama already,” his father said.
They all laughed. Little did they know, however, that the drama for the South Side Stingers was only beginning.
The next morning, Matt awoke early and headed for the front door. As usual, he would grab the Post, line up a big breakfast at the kitchen eating bar and devour the Sports section from front to back. During the school week, there wasn’t quite as much time, but on the weekend he could slow down and catch up on all the news he had missed.
He didn’t get far this time, however. In fact, the article running down the side of the second page of the Post Sports section almost made him choke on his Corn Flakes.
Frustrated football father files lawsuit, read the headline.
The father of an outstanding high school football prospect has launched legal action against South Side Middle School and its head football coach, Rick Reynolds, the story began.
Frank Jackson, whose son Ricky was suspended by the South Side coach this week, has filed a lawsuit contending that the boy was discriminated against and that his future as a football player has been diminished due to the suspension.
In the meantime, Jackson has obtained an injunction order from the Third District Court, compelling South Side to reinstate Ricky Jackson until the case can be heard.
Frank Jackson would not comment on the suit for the Post, referring all questions to his lawyer. But his youngest son is already well-known in football circles after winning the regional Pass, Punt and Kick competition last year as a sixth-grader. Ricky Jackson is considered a can’t-miss high school starting quarterback in the near future, and many are already tabbing him as a college prospect, following in the footsteps of his father who was an NCAA standout during the 1970s.
Coach Reynolds was unavailable for comment. But a source close to the team told the Post that the younger Jackson was benched recently after ignoring his coach’s instructions during two consecutive games and allegedly taking hand signals from his father in the bleachers.
Matt could hardly believe what he was reading. A lawsuit? Wasn’t this going too far? It was only middle school, after all. Jackson’s dad was pushy and intense, but this seemed over the top, even for him.
The story filled in some blanks for Matt, though. Now he understood why Ricky had changed that play at the end of the Central game. His dad must have still been signaling him from the sidelines. Even though Matt knew it was wrong not to listen to the coach’s orders, he wasn’t sure he’d be able say no to Frank Jackson, especially if he had to live with the man afterward.
Matt quickly finished his breakfast. He could hardly wait for Phil, Jake and Amar to show up for their usual Saturday morning hoops game at Anderson Park. He was bursting with the news of the lawsuit.
Phil was first at his door. “Can you believe that story in the Post?” he said as he stepped inside. “I mean, I knew Jackson’s old man was a jerk but this is unreal.”
Matt nodded. “I feel sorry for the kid,” he said. “Can you imagine living with that guy?”
“For sure,” Phil said. “And I heard he doesn’t have a mom around, either. She died of cancer or something when Ricky was young.”
Matt hadn’t realized that. It must be even worse than he imagined for Ricky, living in a house with only Grant and their obnoxious father around.
Jake and Amar were soon at the door. They hadn’t heard the news. They were both shocked.
“Whoa, you football guys take things seriously,” Jake joked. “Man, that Jackson family is messed up.”
Matt had to agree. He wondered how Coach Reynolds was going to handle the court’s decision. More importantly, he wondered how Ricky’s situation was going to affect the mood of the South Side team. Things had been going well for the Stingers, but something like this had the potential to divide the locker room.
After several games of two-on-two at Anderson, Matt headed home. He had planned to use the afternoon to rake the leaves off the lawn and then mow the grass for what he hoped would be the final time until th
e spring.
He was just changing into some old work clothes when the phone rang. It was Charlie Dougan.
“Hey, Matt,” he said. “Did you read the story in the Post?”
Naturally, Charlie had read it. Matt imagined that everybody on the football team knew by now.
“I guess that’s it for me,” Charlie said. He sounded tired.
“What do you mean?” Matt asked, before realizing what Charlie meant. Of course, if Jackson was coming back, he’d expect to be the team’s placekicker again too.
“It’s going to be tough to give back the uniform,” Charlie said.
“You don’t know that’s what Coach will do,” Matt said. “I think you’re a better kicker than Jackson, anyway.”
“Thanks,” Charlie said. “I’m going to talk to Coach first thing Monday morning.”
Matt was worried after he hung up the phone. Charlie had been so happy after earning a spot on the team and kicking the winning field goal against Churchill. It would be a shame if he now had to go back to being a manager. At the same time, Matt knew what Jackson’s dad was like. The word gimp kept floating around in his mind as he finished his weekend chores.
chapter fourteen
The tension was obvious as the team gathered around Coach Reynolds before practice on Monday afternoon. Coach would normally follow up on the previous Friday’s game and set the tone for the coming week with a few words each Monday, but this was different.
He cleared his throat. “I assume most of you guys can read,” he said, smiling a little awkwardly. “So you’ll already know about the story in the paper this weekend.”
Heads nodded all around. A few players turned to glance at Ricky, who was suited up for practice and standing near the back of the group.
“I’m only going to address this issue once,” the coach said sternly, his gaze meeting individuals’ eyes in the group. “I don’t want to hear about that subject around practice, or in games, or anywhere near this team. To me that whole issue is separate from football. You guys just worry about the game, and I’ll worry about that stuff.”
Matt wondered how Ricky would fit into the whole let’s-just-be-normal theme. He knew how self-conscious he would be if he was in Jackson’s shoes. But Coach Reynolds hadn’t mentioned Ricky by name or gone into any specifics.
“Now, let’s get to work,” the coach said. “We’ve got Mandela on the road on Friday. If we win, we’ve still got a shot at the playoffs. If not, well, there’s always next year.”
Coach Reynolds was true to his word. He didn’t mention the lawsuit and, as usual, he ran practice crisply and efficiently. The only difference Matt could detect was that Ricky was suddenly now taking equal reps at quarterback along with Keith Vickers. And unfortunately for the Stingers, starting quarterback Kyle James was still sidelined with the knee injury he had suffered against Churchill.
Matt quickly realized that the coach was simply following court orders. He had been directed by a judge to reinstate Ricky Jackson, and that meant that Jackson was once again the team’s backup quarterback. The injury to Kyle James meant Jackson might even be the starter against the Mandela Lions this Friday.
Jackson didn’t look particularly comfortable during practice, however. His throws were wobbly, he bobbled a few snaps and he seemed a step slower than usual. He wasn’t moving with anywhere near the confidence Matt had admired in him since football workouts began back in August.
Ricky wasn’t alone at practice. His father leaned over the chain-link fence for the entire session, carefully watching everything that was going on. Beside him stood a man in a dark suit, taking notes.
“Kicking team!” yelled Coach Reynolds toward the end of practice. “Let’s get out there in field-goal formation.”
As Matt joined the rest of the kicking team, he noticed both Charlie and Ricky moving out to the middle of the field. Dougan sprinted confidently to the huddle, while Jackson jogged slowly, looking toward the sidelines where his father stood, motioning for his son to hurry up.
“Okay, you guys split the reps,” Coach Reynolds said, eyeing Dougan and Jackson. Matt was happy to hear this. At least Coach wasn’t dumping Charlie just because Ricky’s suspension had been lifted.
Matt held for the two kickers as they took turns booting the ball, at distances increasing in range from fifteen to thirty-five yards. Charlie was stroking the ball nicely, but so was Jackson. At the end of the session, the two kickers had essentially competed to a draw. “Nice work, fellas,” the coach said.
Charlie grinned and offered a hand to Ricky, who slapped it. It was nice to see the two of them being friendly, Matt thought.
“That’s it for today,” Coach Reynolds said. “Back at it tomorrow afternoon at four o’clock.”
The coach headed to the locker room, with Matt, Charlie and a few of the other players several steps behind him. As he passed Frank Jackson and the man in the dark suit, Coach Reynolds did not acknowledge their presence.
It was chili for dinner that night. It was one of Matt’s favorite meals, maybe not Mom’s fanciest dish, but one that always hit the spot. He dug into his large, steaming bowl with gusto. Football made him hungry.
“So, Matt,” his mother said. “I hear there’s quite a controversy around the team.”
Matt nodded. “It’s pretty messed up,” he said. “Ricky’s dad is suing the coach. Ricky’s back on the team, and poor Charlie’s caught in the middle.”
“I feel sorry for Charlie,” his mom said. “That boy deserves to be kicking for South Side.”
“Yeah, me too,” Matt said. “But I kinda feel bad for Ricky too. I can’t imagine living with a jerk like that for a parent.”
Mom frowned. “Matt, you shouldn’t talk like that about somebody’s dad,” she said. “Then again, you’re probably right. Getting a lawyer seems to be an awfully extreme step to take.”
“Mom, if I was benched for some reason you didn’t think was fair, would you get a lawyer and sue the coach?” Matt asked.
It had been a serious question, but his mother just laughed. “I can barely afford regular briefs for you, kiddo, never mind legal ones.”
chapter fifteen
It was not a normal week at South Side football practice. Other media had followed up on the Post’s report, and a couple of television crews had even come to the field during practice to try to speak with players about the lawsuit. Matt realized that their interest had nothing to do with middle-school football—the reporters didn’t care about that—but a story about a parent suing a coach and leaving a whole team of teenagers caught in the middle was of interest to just about everybody.
Coach Reynolds had strictly prohibited his players from talking to the tv crews, however. So mostly they just filmed bits of practice footage and talked to the few parents who would speak with them. Matt had watched a couple of the reports but hadn’t learned much more than he already knew.
By game time Friday, the focus on the lawsuit had died down and everybody was concentrating on the game. South Side was 2–1 so far this season and needed to beat Mandela to have a shot at the conference title. Both Central and Churchill were 3–1 after their games this week, and they played each other in their regular-season finale. One of those teams would finish 4–1. The only hope for the Stingers of advancing would be for them to also finish at 4–1 and that Churchill beat top-ranked Central at the end of the season.
The team dressed and boarded two long yellow school buses for the thirty-minute ride across town to the affluent northern suburb where Mandela Middle School was located. It was the newest school in the district, named after the former South African leader, and although its football program had only been running for three years, the Lions were already a pretty decent squad. They weren’t as good as Churchill or Central, but Matt knew they would be tough at home.
“Okay, guys,” Coach Reynolds said, standing in the middle of the spacious visitor’s locker room. “I don’t have to tell you that this is a huge game. Your
season is on the line tonight, and I want you all to play like it.”
Matt could feel the urgency in the room. His own adrenaline was pumping. He wanted to get out there and knock down the entire Mandela offensive line all by himself.
Coach motioned to Charlie, who was sitting across the locker room in full gear. Charlie followed the coach into the hallway. The door closed.
Moments later, the coach emerged. Charlie was trailing. Matt couldn’t tell by the look on his face what had happened. But Matt knew it probably wasn’t good news.
He was right. As the Stingers’ kickoff team lined up at midfield to start the game against Mandela, Ricky Jackson was the one getting set to boot. Coach Reynolds had obviously decided he had no choice but to follow the court injunction and pull Charlie for Ricky. Staring back at the sidelines at Charlie, Matt felt bad.
Despite his shaky start in practice and the pressure from the lawsuit, Ricky Jackson got off to a good start. His opening kickoff sailed over the heads of the return team and put the Lions in poor field position. And when South Side got the ball back on a punt, Ricky engineered an efficient six-play touchdown drive, hitting Nate on a down-and-out pattern in the right corner of the end zone.
But Mandela quarterback Toby Renton, an eighth-grader with a strong left arm, recovered from his sluggish start to catch fire as the game progressed. By the end of the third quarter, Renton had thrown three touchdown passes and Mandela had worked its way into a 21–21 tie.
With Nate back in the lineup, Matt wasn’t getting much playing time. He hadn’t been out to hold for a field goal, either, since South Side had yet to attempt one. But Matt was still enjoying the game. Who wouldn’t? These were two well-matched football teams, playing an important contest. Each side was performing well under the pressure.
