by Jeff Rud
“I heard what you did yesterday,” Grant said.
“Yeah, well, I…,” Matt began.
“I just wanted to say thanks,” the elder Jackson continued. “Our dad is pretty screwed up. He wants everything to be perfect, and when it isn’t he goes crazy. He’s impossible to live with, and he’s especially tough on Ricky. It’s been that way ever since our mom died.”
Matt didn’t know how to respond. He would never have expected Grant to thank him for anything.
“Something had to change,” Grant continued, looking down. “But it’s not easy to tell anybody when something like that’s going on. So thanks for taking Ricky to see that teacher.”
Matt nodded. Grant turned to his brother. “Come on, Rick,” he said. “We’ve got a bus to catch.”
“Later, Hill,” Grant said.
“Later,” Matt replied. “See you tomorrow, Ricky.”
Phil and Charlie were waiting inside the locker room, bursting to hear about what had happened with Grant Jackson. “Was he pissed?” said Phil.
“You guys didn’t scrap, did you?” Charlie added.
“No,” Matt said, “he was cool. He just wanted to say thanks for helping out Ricky.”
Even as Matt delivered that news to his two dumbstruck friends, he still had trouble believing it himself.
chapter eighteen
The phone rang at seven thirty Friday morning. Nobody called that early unless it was an emergency. Matt picked up the phone by his bed.
“Hey, Matt.” It was his father. “I thought you’d want to hear the news as early as possible.”
“What news?” he said, yawning.
“The good news for the South Side Stingers,” his dad replied. “Last night’s score: Churchill twenty-one, Central twenty.”
Matt felt his heart thumping faster. The Stingers had a chance that night to clinch the conference title and advance to the playoffs. All they had to do was beat Manning and they were in.
“That’s awesome,” he told his dad. “Are you coming to the game?”
“I’ll be there.”
Matt hung up. Although it was early, he bounded downstairs to the front porch to pick up the Post. A shot at the playoffs. What a great way to start off the day.
Word had spread quickly at school. By noon, red-and-white ribbons with the slogan Beat Manning! were being sold at the pep team stand. Posters showing a gigantic hornet stinging a hapless Minuteman ball carrier into submission were plastered in the hallways. There was a buzz across campus, and every player on the team could feel it.
Matt was just heading to the locker room after the final bell of the day when he passed Andrea in the hallway. She was dressed in her full maroon-and-white South Side soccer uniform with the long striped socks and black cleats. “We’ve got a game at Manning today,” she said. “I won’t be able to come to your game, but I wanted to say good luck.”
“You too,” Matt said.
Andrea hugged him. Standing on tiptoes, she kissed Matt on the cheek. “Bye,” she said.
“See ya,” Matt replied, his face flushing. He looked around as students passed them in the hallway.
Matt continued to the locker room, more excited than ever about the game and their chances of making the playoffs. He was a little disappointed Andrea couldn’t be there to see the game, but his mom and dad were coming. The idea still seemed weird. For so long it had been just him and his mom.
The atmosphere was businesslike in the Stingers’ locker room. The players prepared mostly in silence, as if they realized the magnitude of this game and wanted to get each detail exactly right. After shaking some of their jitters during warm-ups, the Stingers trotted back to the locker room for their pre-game talk from Coach Reynolds.
“Guys, I know that this has been an interesting season, to say the least,” the coach began. “But what’s impressed me the most is how you all have managed to concentrate on football and avoid the distractions.
“I’m proud of the way you’ve been able to do that. I’m proud of the way you’ve fought through all our injuries and the other adversity surrounding this team. Now we’ve got one game left. I know you’ll give it everything you’ve got against Manning. And whatever happens, that’s good enough for me.”
The coach had his players meet in the center of the crowded locker room. Kyle James stretched out his left hand, and every Stinger did the same.
“Who are we?” James yelled.
“We’re the Stingers!” came the massive response.
“Where are we going?” James barked.
“All the way!”
Matt was so pumped up he could have run right through the heavy metal door of the locker room. As the team broke through the gigantic paper hornet and onto the field, the overflow crowd of more than five hundred cheered. This was the kind of atmosphere he had imagined when he decided to go out for football back in the summer.
Manning won the coin toss and elected to receive the football first. That meant Matt was on the field to begin the game. Charlie sent the kickoff high down the left side where eighth-grade Manning return man Travis Green was waiting. Matt knew all about Green. He had been Manning’s starting point guard in basketball as a seventh-grader the previous winter, but football was his best sport. Like Ricky, he had been tabbed as a can’t-miss high-school star of the future, mostly because of his breakaway speed.
Matt sped downfield toward Green, trying to get a bead on the Manning ball carrier. But he didn’t have a chance. The speedy Minuteman back caught the ball on the dead run and burst up the middle of the field, behind a wedge of blockers. Matt couldn’t get anywhere close to Green. Reggie and Ron Evans both dove for the ball carrier but missed badly. He was already nearing midfield with only Charlie Dougan to beat now. Charlie lunged at Green and appeared to be on the verge of bringing him down. But the Manning runner shook loose of the tackle and scampered untouched the rest of the way into the end zone.
The game was seconds old, and Manning was already leading by a touchdown. But that wasn’t the worst of it. Back at midfield, Charlie Dougan wasn’t getting up. He lay crumpled on the ground, holding his right wrist and twisting in pain. Matt realized now that Charlie must have jammed the arm when he tried to tackle Green. No wonder he hadn’t been able to bring him down.
Dr. Baker headed out onto the field. He checked Charlie’s wrist and then looked back at the coach, shaking his head slowly. It was pretty obvious: Charlie was done for the day.
South Side was down not only a touchdown but also a kicker. And that was the way the game seemed to go for the Stingers. Although they were the superior team—Manning had gone 1–3 so far this season—South Side simply couldn’t get anything going offensively. By halftime, it was still 7–0 for Manning.
“Listen guys,” Coach Reynolds said in the locker room. “You played hard in that first half. Things didn’t go your way. We’ll turn that around in the next two quarters.”
The Stingers managed to even the count midway through the third quarter when Kyle James found Nate Brown on a long fly pattern. But unfortunately for South Side, they missed the convert attempt, after Steve Donnelly sent a wild snap back to Matt, and Ricky Jackson was unable to get the kick away.
That left the Stingers trailing 7–6 heading into the final few minutes of the fourth quarter. Maybe South Side was pressing too hard, but nothing was going right. Passes from James to Brown that had been automatic all season were being dropped or were falling short. Meanwhile, Manning wasn’t moving the ball, either. As the final minutes ticked off the clock, the game had degenerated into a punt-fest.
With two minutes left in the game—and possibly the Stingers’ season—Manning was forced to punt from its own thirty-yard line. Kicker Kenny Forshaw got off a solid boot that sailed down the right sideline to Ronnie Evans, who was waiting underneath. Evans returned the punt to midfield. South Side had one last chance to pull out this win and extend its season.
The Stingers seemed poised to make the most
of the opportunity too. On first down, James found Brown over the middle for a ten-yard gain. Then the quarterback kept and scrambled for another first down. South Side was now within field-goal range. And with just twenty-five seconds remaining, Coach Reynolds didn’t want to take any chances. “Field-goal team!” he yelled.
Matt trotted onto the field along with Ricky Jackson. Jackson looked nervous. He hadn’t kicked well this season. In fact he wouldn’t even be taking this attempt if Charlie hadn’t hurt his wrist earlier in the game. Matt knew he could use a confidence boost, particularly after everything that had gone on in his life during the last couple of days. “Like you can,” Matt said to Ricky as they walked into the huddle. “Like you can.”
Matt called for the ball on the count of two. But the snap from Steve Donnelly was wild once again. The ball bounced crazily in front of him as the South Side line struggled to hold back the fierce Manning rush. Matt was acting on instinct now. He scrambled forward, grabbing the football with both hands and looking behind him. Ricky Jackson was thinking the same thing. He moved quickly behind Matt, heading around the right end. Matt swept his hands up, lateraling the football to Ricky, who by now was on the dead run. He held his breath as Ricky headed toward the end zone.
The crowd roared, sensing a Stingers’ score. But just two steps before the goal line, Jackson was blindsided by a flying Travis Green, who had come all the way from his linebacker spot on the left side of the field. Green laid his body into Ricky, bringing Jackson to the turf in a heap on the one-yard line.
The final horn sounded. The game had ended, and South Side had failed to score. The Stingers’ season was over.
Matt couldn’t believe it. Neither could Ricky, who didn’t get up, lying one agonizing yard short of a South Side victory. Matt ran over to his teammate, extended his right hand and helped him up. “Nice try, man,” he said. “You almost made it.”
As the two players turned toward the sidelines, Matt wondered how Coach Reynolds would react. He had been angry the last time Matt and Ricky had tried to score on what was supposed to be a field-goal attempt. Now, with the season on the line, it had happened again.
Coach Reynolds was motioning to Matt and Ricky as they walked off the field. Oh no, Matt thought. He’s going to rip us right here, in front of everybody. This was going to be embarrassing.
The coach grabbed each of the players by the shoulder pads and brought their faces in toward his. “Boys,” he said, “that was a heckuva play off a bad snap. You gave it your best shot. Like I said, that’s always good enough for me. Nice going!”
The words soothed some of the hurt Matt felt over the sudden loss and the end of his first football season. He looked over at Jackson and smiled. “Next year,” he said, eyeing the seventh-grade star. “We’ll get ’em next year.”
They walked together toward the corner of the field, where they joined up with Charlie, who by now had his right wrist wrapped in an ice bag. “Nice run, Ricky,” Charlie said. “You almost won it for us.”
Matt looked up into the stands. Most of the fans were still seated. He spotted his mom, talking with the Wongs. A section over, he saw his dad, who was waving madly. Matt waved back. As he looked at his father he was surprised to see another familiar face. It was Mark, his older brother, sitting beside their dad.
“I gotta go say hi to somebody,” Matt said to Phil and Charlie. “I’ll catch you guys in the locker room.”
Matt walked toward the bleachers. Mark saw him coming and bounded down several stairs and to the railing that separated the field from the stands. “Nice game, bro,” Mark said, shaking his hand. “You guys almost pulled it out.”
“Thanks,” Matt said. “I’m surprised to see you here. I didn’t know you were coming.”
“I wasn’t planning to,” Mark said, pausing for a second. “But dad phoned me this week. He said it was a big game for you and I should try to make it down…”
That’s not what Matt had meant when he said he was surprised to see Mark there. He was simply surprised to see his brother sitting anywhere near their father.
“I talked to Mom about it,” Mark said. “She said she didn’t mind if I hung out with Dad a bit. She seems to have forgiven him for leaving. I guess if she can, I can too.”
“That’s cool,” Matt said. “I mean, I’m glad.”
“I’ll catch you later,” Mark said. “You should get to the locker room.”
His brother was right. Coach Reynolds would want to say a few words to the team after such a tough loss. The coach didn’t like his players hanging around on the field after the final whistle.
But as he headed back to join his teammates, losing the game was the farthest thing from Matt Hill’s mind. Yes, his first middle-school football season was coming to a disappointing end but, glancing back at the stands, Matt sensed that a whole new chapter for him and his family was just beginning.
Jeff Rud was a sports writer and columnist at various newspapers in Western Canada for twenty years. He is now a political reporter for the Victoria Times Colonist and the author of eight sports-related books.
Other titles in the South Side Sports series:
In the Paint
South Side Sports #1
978-1-55143-337-0 PB
High and Inside
South Side Sports #2
978-1-55143-532-9 PB
