My Name Is River Blue

by Noah James Adams

  Cody interrupted. "Were any of you stupid enough to go?"

  "No. We figured those guys wanted to get in one last round of hazing before the first game, so Ant and I told them that our guardians didn't allow us to ride with anyone else. Max said his parents were taking him out to eat straight from practice. Now I wonder if Casey was going to take us somewhere to smoke pot."

  "They probably wanted to make you new guys as dirty as them to keep you from ratting on them, plus they would make a few bucks selling it to you if you wanted more. Good thing you guys weren't with them when they got busted."

  "How did they get caught, Cody?"

  "I heard they were stopped for speeding right after practice. The cop smelled weed and searched their car. Just bad luck, I guess."

  "I'm glad we weren't in that car. It gives me chills." I didn't say it to Cody, but I knew that Ant and I could have been on our way back to Stockwell.

  "Well, here we are," said Cody, nodding to the office door. "You don't seem so bad for a jock. Don't let those morons rub off on you. Good luck in the game tomorrow night and save Harper Springs High or whatever it is you super jocks are supposed to do."

  "Thanks, Cody."

  The game. The school suspended any athlete, arrested on drug charges, from participating in sports until the outcome of his legal proceedings. If Cody's story were true, then our number one and number two quarterbacks, along with our starting tailback would not play in the first game. I was the only quarterback left, and I had not practiced nearly the number of reps that Casey and Josh had. I had taken snaps only on the most basic plays. Coach Haney and Coach Booker, the offensive coordinator, had planned to bring me up to speed as we had time. Maybe I should have been excited to be the starter, but I was scared because I simply wasn't ready.

  Max Summers was the only other player on the varsity who had ever played quarterback, and he had zero reps at that position because the coaches didn't believe his stature was suitable. Over the previous year, his body had taken a shape perfectly suited for a tailback, but not for a quarterback who needed to see over his linemen to pass the ball downfield. Max realized that he would never gain enough height to play quarterback, so he put all his effort into the tailback job.

  Max admitted that things had turned out for the best after he lost QB1 to me the prior year because he had a year's experience as a tailback when he began varsity practice. He was good enough that he was listed as second on the depth chart. I wondered how Max would feel when he found out that he would replace Joe Cummings as the starting tailback.

  I assumed that Coach Haney would promote the junior varsity starting quarterback, Eric Mize, to varsity to train as my backup, but it would take time before he could be effective.

  Inside the main office, I was directed to Principal Wilson's private office where I wasn't surprised to see Coach Haney and Max Summers. The coach looked as if his wife had run off with his best friend and took the kids and the family dog with her. Principal Wilson stared out his window, and was oblivious to the fact that I had just entered his office. I assumed that he was worrying about the financial impact of a sorry season on the athletic department. Max, who was the only one acting normal, greeted me with a wink and a nod before rolling his eyes towards the two men. Finally, Coach Haney acknowledged me.

  "River, as I have just told Max, your class schedule is cancelled for today and tomorrow along with any other plans you had. You are now QB1, and we have a lot of work to do."

  ***

  Walter E. Rollins Memorial Stadium, home of the Harper Springs Hawks, sold out for the Friday night season opener against the Iverson Knights. The citizens of Harper Springs were justifiably proud of their new stadium, which was the largest and most modern in that half of the state. Even the players of opposing teams had commented during the previous season that the visiting team's locker room was nicer than their own at their home stadium. Everyone in Harper Springs, who was involved in the project of building the new stadium and the additional athletic facilities, graciously accepted all the compliments they received from visitors, and the only thing that slightly dampened their enthusiasm was their concern over paying for that part of their dream that exceeded government funding.

  The city leaders and boosters all knew that it would be a tight squeeze to meet their financial obligations and stay within their budget. The key to success was the performance of the athletic teams, and the play of the varsity football team was critical. Harper Springs could not afford a mediocre season where the fans and alumni became disenchanted. They needed a capacity crowd for each home game and after the regular season, they needed high seeding so that they could host a couple of playoff games. During all of those games, they needed fans to buy sodas, food, candy, and snacks at the concession stands. The stadium also held two Hawks' stores, one on each side of the stadium, where they hoped to sell Hawks' merchandise such as tee shirts, caps, cups, clocks, banners, calendars, and dozens of other novelty items they had on consignment from various vendors.

  In addition to the football team playing well, there was pressure on the coaches and players to be good role models to all the young boys from their part of the state, so parents would pay the hefty fee for their boys to attend one of the summer camps. Harper Springs would be hosting three sessions of Hawks Summer Football Camp for junior high kids, and some of the Hawks coaches and players would work each camp.

  The immediate future was not looking bright for the Harper Springs Hawks and their fans. The loss of three key players was devastating, and the team could focus on little else but the fact that those players had been permanently expelled from school. None of us knew the whole story, but earlier that afternoon we heard that the solicitor had brought additional charges after finding that the boys were deeply involved in drug trafficking to minors. Since Casey and Josh were seventeen years old, the state would try them as adults, and there was a real possibility that they would serve time. At sixteen, Joe would go to family court and probably do time in Stockwell.

  Coach Haney and his assistant coaches worked hard to have us ready to play and did their best to keep our minds on the game. Their biggest challenge was improving my competency on enough plays to get by the first game, and getting the offense used to Max and me instead of Casey and Joe. Something as simple as my teammates becoming used to my cadence at the line of scrimmage was more difficult than I thought it would be. Preparing Max and I to play critical roles as starters was an almost impossible job to do in only a day and a half.

  Principal Wilson worked around the rule that said athletes could not play in a game if they didn't attend classes the day before and the day of a game. Every player on the offense checked in with homeroom and then we went straight to the field to practice our plays with me at quarterback and Max at tailback. We worked until nine o'clock Thursday night and until three o'clock on Friday. Both days at practice, teachers with open periods took turns reading from textbooks on the sideline. If anyone had asked us, we could have said that teachers definitely gave lectures.

  Thirty minutes before kickoff on Friday night, our locker room atmosphere resembled that of a funeral home viewing room. I tried not to be paranoid, but I didn't think it was my imagination that some of the older players were very cold towards Max and me.

  Instead of showing excitement for the season opener, we all quietly waited for Coach Haney to give his pre-game talk, and he didn't have to ask us to calm down before he spoke. He did what I would expect any coach in his situation to do and that was to make a good attempt at inspiring us to overcome adversity. He told us that we should not give up on our goal to win a conference championship just because we lost three players.

  "Listen guys, we can still achieve our goal if everyone gives his best effort. I'm sorry that we lost three players, and I know they were not just teammates, but good friends to some of you. I care about those boys, and I hope they get their lives straight, but I'm not giving up my dream for this team because they made selfish choices. Now each
of you has a choice to make.'

  "We have a new quarterback and a new tailback, and they need your support. I have faith in them that they will give maximum effort, and that they will improve with each game. Tonight, I want the other team and every one of our fans to see your character. To see how we respond when we've been punched in the gut. It's time for us to focus on the game, support each other, and kick some Iverson ass."

  As we ran on to the field, I loved the roar of the home crowd, the booming sound of the band, and the electric atmosphere of Friday night football under the lights. I could never remember feeling such excitement, and I hoped that I could play well enough to give us a chance to win. I knew if we could get by the first game that I would have another week to run live reps of the plays.

  No one knew at the time, but I would have even longer to prepare for the second game of the season. Because of the terrorist attacks on September 11, the second game, scheduled for September 14, would be delayed a week as would the rest of the games on our schedule.

  I stood next to Coach Haney as the Knights kicked off to us and was thrilled when I saw the ball coming down into Ant's arms. I yelled for my roommate as I watched him return the ball to our forty-two yard line to give us great field position for our offense to start. The coach planned to sub Ant in and out at wide receiver because he and I had worked together on pass patterns so much that Coach Haney thought it would be a positive for the team.

  I tried not to show it, but I couldn't have been much more nervous than I was in my first huddle. After I relayed the play that Coach Haney called, there was weak acknowledgement and very little enthusiasm from my teammates when we broke the huddle and went to the line. There were no positive vibes from anyone with the exception of Max.

  On our first play, the Knights stuffed Max at the line for no gain. I wasn't sure if it was a good play by the defense or poor blocking by our line. The second time it happened, I decided that it was some of both. On third down, I dropped back to pass, but I never had time to look for a receiver because the Knights blitzed, and our line did little to slow them down. I was hit so hard that I struggled to stand. The Iverson defensive players promised me that I wouldn't make it through the first half.

  At the junior high level, I had been bigger than most of the players were, but on that high school field, I was only of average size compared to most of the upperclassmen. I struggled to pretend that I wasn't in pain as I walked off the field with Max by my side. When I reached the sideline, Coach Haney was chewing on our offensive line for their poor efforts at blocking, and he threatened to replace any player who couldn't do his job. When he asked, I told the coach that I was fine, but I wanted to speak to my line. He nodded, and I limped over to where the players were sitting on the bench.

  I looked at my teammates, and as calmly as I could, I ask them why. "Guys, you're not trying to block for Max and me, and I want to know why you would do that."

  No one said anything. They ignored me, and I lost it.

  "Are you afraid to talk to a freshman? Is there not a single one of you man enough to tell me to my face?"

  That got their attention as several of them stood. Bob Fielder, the senior center, got in my face. "Maybe we don't like blocking for guys who rat on teammates, so they can take their spots. Even when they're wrong, you never rat."

  I was clueless. Max had come to stand next to me. I looked at him, and he shook his head that he knew no more than I did, so I asked. "What in hell are you talking about?"

  "Casey told me what you did. He offered you, Jefferson, and Summers a ride to burn one, and you called the cops on them before they could get home and hide their shit. They weren't even a mile down the road when the cops stopped them."

  I stood closer to Bob and spoke as loudly as he did. "First of all, he didn't say shit to us about going to smoke weed that night or any night. Second, we didn't call anyone. According to what you're saying, we had to have called as soon as he drove off. What did we use for a phone? None of us has a cell phone. Coach Booker came out to lock up when Casey was driving away, and he talked to us for about fifteen minutes until our rides came. He'll tell you that he didn't let any of us back inside to use the phone."

  Bob looked confused. I knew he wanted to believe me, but he wasn't saying anything.

  "Look, Bob, I'm sorry about Casey and them, but they made the choices that got them in trouble and hurt the team. There is nothing more important to me than the Hawks, and I will never make a decision to let down any of you guys. For the sake of the team, let's drop this shit and play the game."

  Bob couldn't let it go without a warning. "Alright, Blue. We'll support you for the team's sake, but we better not find out that you ratted on those guys, so you could take their spots."

  I held out my fist, and Bob hesitated, but then bumped it. The rest of the guys around us threw their hands in on ours to show their support. I never have understood why Casey said that I called the cops unless it was just spite because I was taking his spot.

  When I walked over to Coach Haney, I saw Coach Booker move to where I had stood in front of Bob. I found out later that the coach verified my story. Coach Haney told me to let him know of any guy who wasn't doing his job when we went back on the field. He added, "River, you did good with them."

  The rest of the first half, our defense held the Knights scoreless, which was a good thing because when their defense wasn't stopping our offense, we screwed up and stopped ourselves. We had several penalties for delay of game and jumping offside. Between Max and me, we mishandled several handoffs, and I threw four incomplete passes because the receivers weren't where I thought they would be. On every pass play, I scrambled for my life, because even though my line was trying to block for me, Iverson's defensive line was dominating us.

  The second half began with the Knights taking the kickoff to their thirty-yard line where they began a long drive. They took the short yardage our defense gave them and methodically marched for the first score of the game. With the extra point, the Knights led 7-0. After Max fumbled near our own end zone, the Knights scored on the next play. The third quarter ended with Iverson kicking a field goal after they intercepted a bad pass from me. Iverson led 17-0.

  As I watched Iverson kick the field goal, Coach Haney grabbed my facemask, pulled me to him, and yelled right in my face. I had never seen him so angry, and he was angry with me. He scared me enough that I felt my bowels churning.

  "Blue, you got too much talent to cower like a beaten dog, but that's what you look like, and your offense won't follow you that way. I haven't seen the River Blue I know for one damn play. Make the offense yours. Take charge, and do it now. Make something happen. You hear me?"

  "Yes, sir." It was embarrassing for Coach Haney to jump my ass in front of the team, but he was right. I was too tentative in everything I did. I was so scared of failing that I wasn't playing, and the offense took their attitude from me.

  At the beginning of the fourth quarter, when I took the field with our offense, I was angry and determined that Coach Haney would never speak to me that way again. I was done with sounding like a scared freshman and acting like I had never been in a tough fight. In my head, I heard Coach Riddle say, "Execute the play, and let your instincts take over."

  I disregarded the fact that all of the players were older than I was, and when I spoke in the huddle, I sounded aggressive and confident. I think I would have punched any teammate who argued with me.

  "Guys, three bad quarters is all on me. I was scared, and I didn't do my best but that shit is over. For the rest of this game, I'm giving everything I got, and I need you to do the same."

  I sensed the change immediately. When I took the snap from the shotgun, the line gave me the time to throw a twenty-yard bullet that Ant caught near the sideline. The next play, Max Summers swept around right end with me blocking for him. I literally left my feet and threw my body into an Iverson linebacker to free Max, who broke two tackles for a fifteen-yard gain.

  When
I took the next snap, I rolled to my right, and then scrambled back left with Knights chasing me. On the run, I unloaded a strike thirty yards away to Ant, who caught it in stride and outran the defensive backs to score our first touchdown of the game. Rollins Memorial Stadium erupted with noise loud enough to shake the stands along with the nerves of the Knights.

  After I released the pass to Ant, I took a teeth-rattling hit that flattened me. It hurt so bad I had tears in my eyes, but I quickly stood up to show I was fine. My adrenaline was good temporary pain medicine, but it didn't help much the next day.

  When I came off the field, my teammates were on their feet to greet the offense. I acted a little psychotic, as I shouted at every defensive player to hold the Knights on the next series. I guaranteed that the offense would score if the defense would just get us the ball again. Our defense fought hard, and the Knights called running plays to avoid a turnover and run out the clock. After three plays, they punted the ball back to us. Brett Holloman, our team's defensive captain, ran to me on the sideline and yelled at me to put up or shut up. I grinned and was determined that I would put up my best.

  We took over on our own forty-two yard line. Knowing that we needed to score quickly, the Knights were defending the pass, which left a big hole up the middle for Max Summers to gain eighteen yards. The defense still played for a pass when Max hit the hole in the middle of the line followed by me carrying the ball. Max threw a vicious block to cut down a linebacker, freeing me to run at full speed. I made two Knights miss and ran until their safety tripped me up at the Knights' five-yard line. The next play I threw a corner fade to our tall, senior receiver, Matt Broome, who out jumped the defender to pull down my high pass for a touchdown. It was quite a catch of my poor throw. The extra point pulled us to within three points with a little over a minute left to play.