and ran close to the double team block against odd line. Second and six on their forty-five. Vakos called time and went over to the bench. He came back, shaking his head a little.
B-Right-50 Trap I faked a block on the tackle and started downfield. Hoke ran close to the trap block on an even line defense. MacDonald missed the trap block. The. end knocked Hoke flat on his ass. MacDonald came to huddle, holding his gut with one hand. His face was white.
'For Crissake,' Vakos said. 'What the, hell. Can't you handle him?'
'Somebody slugged me,' MacDonald said, holding his guts.
'Blow it out,' said Giese.
'Ribs?' Gleason said.
'I'll kill the cocksucker,' said MacDonald.
'You O.K.?' Vakos asked.
'If you're hurt, get out,' I said.
'Piss on it,' said MacDonald. 'I'll fix his ass.'
'Come on,,come on,' said Vakos. 'Third and eight.'
'Let's go,' said Voss.
Their linebackers started to blitz. I thought Vakos ought to throw short. Let the receivers break their patterns and Vakos could hit the receivers for short gains. But I didn't say anything. Both outside linebackers blitzed. Vakos got dropped twice for a loss. I stayed back to block. Vakos overthrew Leighton in a man-to-man coverage. Vakos hadn't passed fast enough. Vakos' arm wasn't strong enough. His hands were slow. Hawthorne came in to punt. About thirty-five yards. I was standing next to Reed.
'Why didn't you let me kick?' I said.
'Shut up,' Reed said.
Beebe got hot, throwing short and long. Right down the field. Fifty yards. First down on our fifteen. Our defense blitzed. Both the left halfback and their fullback picked up the blitz by looking back fast on their swings. Beebe unloaded fast and almost hit the fullback in the back of the head with the ball. But he caught it. Second and three. We started a seven-man rush. The fullback beat the defensive end on the swing and went into the end zone standing up. The conversion was good. The kick-return team looked slow going out onto the field. Fitmaurice ran it back to the twenty-five. I went in.
Vakos called an audible signal for a four-yard hitch pass to the flanking spread end. Decatur immediately revolved to a zone defense. Vakos hit Schaeffer for twenty.
A right X 99 Vakos started to spring out. I was on a fan route. I caught the ball in the flat for nine yards. Then I got blind sided. Then a couple others hit me. They were all piled on me. Somebody was hissing.
'Kill you. Kill you. Kill you. Prick. Prick.'
I pushed a hand off my face before I got a finger in the eye. 73-Quick Y-Hook Leighton caught the ball, but it looked short of a first down. My side started to hurt. I couldn't remember being hit there. They measured and we were short by a foot. Decatur went into a five-two defense. Tough to run against, but Vakos handed off to me. I ran straight ahead. That's the safest route. Whoever saw Unitas try to run wide? I was going to save a piece of myself for quarterbacking. Somebody clothes lined me and two monsters high-lowed me. I thought I was broken in half. I got up, heard the band. It sounded far away. Somebody put my helmet on my head.
'Vakos, you stupid bastard,' I said. 'Do you want to win this game or get me killed?'
'Fuck off,' said Vakos.
'Run against a five-two!' I said. 'Your brains are up your ass.'
He knew I was right. Against a five-two, you throw to the strong side – the side of the flanker and tight end. We walked over to the bench and Reed came over.
'What in hell are you doing?' Reed said to Vakos. 'Running against that defense!'
'Short yardage.'
'Short yardage, my ass. You all right, Matt?'
'Yeah.'
'You dumb-dumb,' Reed said to Vakos. Sure, Vakos was trying to get me killed, but he'd cut his own throat with a few more calls like the last one.
Posz came out with blood all over his face. Preston was holding his arm. Neiman looked as if somebody had punched him in the eye.
Beebe started throwing again. We went into a zone defense. Beebe started faking the running play and passing off the fake run. Ten, twelve, fourteen yards. They were flooding the zone, three fast receivers. Beebe's pass protection was holding up. When you've got that, there's no such thing as a zone defense. Our linebackers were being forced to play close to the line of scrimmage. Beebe was hooking passes between the cracks, slant passes to the end and flanker. Picking us apart. Then it went to his head. Beebe threw long. You almost never should throw long against a zone defense. Sawyer picked it off. My side felt better as I got up from the bench.
I came back on the counter and took the ball from Vakos and went inside behind a cross block into the three hole. I saw Klobuchar coming down the line to nail the linebacker coming across; I went to the outside and cut back against the traffic. I thought I was going to make it. I gave somebody a leg and took it away and then the roof fell in as somebody hit me from behind. Then I got piled. I got up hurting all over. 74-Out-X-Slant and Up I slanted inside the spread end and went up and across and behind Leighton. Leighton was clear. Then I saw the ball coming. I got hit just as I reached for it. I walked past Vakos on the way off the field.
'You dumby,' I said. 'Leighton was open.'
'You look good out there, Matt.'
Hawthorne punted about fifty yards. Reed came over to me.
'Why didn't you hang onto the ball?'
'Why didn't he throw to Leighton?' I said.
'That ball was right to you.'
'I'm a quarterback.'
'Take it easy,' Reed said. 'You're not such a damn poor setback.'
'If I live.'
'You'll live.'
'Not playing quarterback.'
'You're getting paid.'
'Rebellion prices.'
Posz took my arm and led me away.
'Reed knows what he's doing,' said Posz. 'You can count on that.'
Beebe was smart. More slant passes. Twelve yards. They carried Preston off on a stretcher. Out cold. Then a hook pass with the end running a deep pattern was good for sixteen. It burned the ass of the over-aggressive defender. Then the tight end went up on a center pass. He was fast, faked a good move to the outside, then went inside on a ninety-degree angle. He looked for the ball on the break. It wasn't there. Beebe still had good protection. The end went on across the field, Beebe hit him and he went all the way to the twenty before Neiman got him from behind. Then Beebe lost his smarts. He tried running plays and lost eight yards. Hitch pass. Just a little five yard beauty, but the end was a real cutey. Good head and shoulder fake to the inside, then he pivoted to the outside, turned up the sideline and would have made it but he cut it too fine and stepped out of bounds. I looked at the clock. Better go for a field goal. But they were going to go touchdown. First a corner hook, dropped, then a hook and go. Intercepted by Broadhurts. I trotted out.
A Right X 94 Throwback A quarterback should only run out of sheer fright. All I can say is the protection broke down. I looked back. Vakos was running. He was not exactly Bobby Layne. I like to run only off the quarterback draw. Vakos was not that fast. Go straight, I thought, go straight. The dumb-dumb was moving to the outside. Vakos the gazelle. He turned upfield. Three of them had the angle on him. Run for the sideline, dumb-dumb. He headed for the sideline but just as he stepped out of bounds, the three hit him. They got up but Vakos didn't move. I walked over to him. He was out cold, face down. The trainer jogged across the field. He turned Vakos over. They put Vakos on a stretcher. I looked over at Reed and walked over to the bench.
'I want you to give it all you've got, Matt,' he said. 'You gotta move this team. I want you to move it. You can do it. How you feeling?'
