The next morning was cool. We went out to the stadium to work out, nothing special, exercises, tossing the ball around. Back at the hotel, the coaches talked to us. I went up to my room. We would eat about four o'clock.
I was reading when Binks came in and shut the door and told Klobuchar to leave us alone for awhile. Klobuchar grunted something about sand in his jockstrap and left the room. Binks sat down on the edge of the bed.
'What about the letter?' I said.
He raised one hand. 'Take it easy. We'll get to that. First things first.'
'Don't crap me.'
'I've got news for you.'
'Sure.'
'This is a good break.'
'Not if you're hooked up to it.'
'Kaminsky sprained his ankle.'
'Get him a doctor.'
'You're going to play setback.'
'No way.'
'Extra hundred bucks.'
'Two hundred.'
'You sure don't think a lot of your backup quarterback, do you?' I said.
'You won't get hurt. Hell, you ran a lot with the ball in college and high school.'
'I was a helluva lot younger. Hundred and seventy-five bucks.'
'One sixty.'
'You cheap bastard.'
'One sixty?'
'And all the tape I can eat. O.K. One sixty.' I didn't give a damn. I knew the plays. Reed came around and talked to me, wanted me to go over the game plan with Vakos.
'Just tell him to get the ball to me.'
Reed shook his head and went out.
About four o'clock we went downstairs for the pre-game feed. Steak and eggs. It was dark when we came out onto the field into a bowl of light. Reed had given us the usual crap in the dressing room, how we had to really hustle, put out, make the maximum effort. I ran through the basic plays with Vakos after calisthenics. Then it was time. We won the game toss. We huddled around the coach. Everybody was making some kind of sound to get psyched up. I didn't say anything. For the first time in a long time, I was scared. It had been a long time since I'd run with the ball, and a hundred and sixty bucks wasn't a hell of a lot to get for committing suicide. One good bust and I was finished as quarterback. I wondered how bad Kaminsky's ankle was. Maybe Reed and Binks were framing me. Good way to,get me out of the way. No, that wasn't it. They needed me if Vakos got hurt again. I looked at Decatur. My guts knotted. Decatur looked big in black and white jerseys and white pants. Then the sound of the band rose over the sound of all the yelling, just a monstrous thudding. I watched the kick-turn team take the field. I heard the whistle, saw our deep men get ready to receive. The kicker started toward the ball.
On the first play from scrimmage, Vakos gave me the ball. I made two yards. Somebody hit me low and the linebacker gave me a hardshot in the head. My guts relaxed. Vakos threw to Leighton on an up pattern. It was good for six yards. Vakos pitched out to me and I made six behind a solid block and cut inside and went to their thirty. I could feel we were moving.
Vakos pumped his face mask with one hand. Wide out for Leighton.
'Hit. At a way,' Klobuchar said in the huddle. 'Good pop Gussy. At a way.'
Schaeffer, sliding sideways, faked the linebacker wide and got tackled at the ten. I went up the middle to the four. We were moving sharp. I knew we were going to make it. I felt like I was back in high school. In a way it was a relief, better than playing quarterback. But I can end my playing right here. Last time I'd play setback. Schaeffer dived to the two-yard line. Vakos faked a handoff to me and slid off tackle and went in for the touchdown on one knee. Bower Hawthorne came in to kick the extra point. I went out and knelt on the sidelines. The band and blaring and the glowing darkness was full of screaming and yelling from the stands. Reed knelt down beside me.
'Matt, fire out faster on two-two-twenty five. Go. I mean go.'
'O.K.'
'All the way.'
'All the way,' I shouted into the din of noise.
Decatur came back strong. We went into a five-four over shift. The Decatur quarterback, Bob Beebe, out of an eight protection, fired three passes in a row and moved to our forty. He went to the ground and we stopped two running plays and a long pass. They punted and Rexford ran it back to our thirty. Vakos hit Leighton on a wide out for ten, and then Klobuchar slugged and got caught. I picked up nine. Vakos threw to Schaeffer against a loose-six defense and their secondary had only two defenders to counter three receivers. Schaeffer caught the pass and picked up twelve yards. They stopped us then and we had to punt. I kicked to their thirty-four, and the receiver got nailed after a five-yard return.
Beebe moved them in the air, using screens and draws and quick outs. They were on our fifteen. We were off sides. One play. A pass on a drag pattern and they scored and kicked. the extra point.
In the next huddle on our thirty, Vakos said, 'B-right-flip 8. On two.' He looked at me.
'What the hell,' I said.
'Yeah,' said Buckram, a guard. 'What the hell. I never heard the play.'
'Why don't you listen in practice?'
'You're nuts, Vakos,' I said. 'It's not in the play book.'
'It's in mine.'
'O.K.,' I said'. 'What is it?'
Vakos looked at the guard. 'Wing back, crack back. Strong end, on, outside. On-tackle, pull, lead. On-guard, pull, hook tackle. Klobuchar, on near gap, downfield. Off-guard, inside, on, outside linebacker. Off-tackle, release. Split-end, down-field. Scallen, take exaggerated open step, keep angle away from the line – look for the ball all the way – key to pulling tackle's block downfield.'
We were penalized for too much time in the huddle.
'Goddamn it,' Vakos said in the huddle. 'Stay awake in practice.'
'Bullshit,' somebody said. 'Stop making up plays.'
Third and nine. They red dogged. Vakos had to roll out. I hooked and held the outside linebacker. He flung me away and I ran and Vakos threw but it was too high even to jump off. Reed shook his head and glared at me as I went past him and sat on the bench. Kaminsky sat next to me. He was suited.
'Why aren't you playing if you're suited?' I said.
'I could play. Coach doesn't think so. I know I could. Suited me so nobody'll think I'm hurt.'
'What do you figure they're thinking if you're sitting on the bench?'
'It'll fool 'em.'
'Who?'
'Next week. Fort Wayne.'
He got up to get a drink and fell down.
Beebe really started to move Decatur, up the middle, around end, slants, counters. Reed was raving. Bobby Richards broke his leg. I was really pooped at the end of the quarter. My mouth was full of cotton. I was glad to be sitting. Beebe on a Statue of Liberty, with the end coming around to take the ball, moved to our five. Beebe faked a hand off and kept and tried to roll around end and got hit and fumbled. I picked up my helmet and jogged out with Klobuchar who said: 'We'll kill the bastards.'
Vakos got a good series going.
Somebody half clipped me and knocked me down. The fans were screaming at that somebody. I couldn't hear the name. The officials didn't see it. But I had a first down. Vakos bootlegged fake away to me. I went straight ahead to block the tackler. The play was going wide. I nailed the tackle. Hoke got the ball off Vakos' outside hip
