'I'm all warmed up.' I walked away.
'Let's move that ball!' Reed yelled.
Fred White, a setback, first year out of a small Southern college, came running out to replace me.
Wing-right with a double flex.
White made six yards on a slant. Seven-man zone defense. Make the defenders desert their zones. Five-man pass pattern. I hit Leighton for twelve on the spread side. I felt happy. The air and grass smelled good again. I could hear the shouting now in the stands. I hit the spread end for thirteen with a sideline pass. Christ, we were really moving.
In the huddle, I said, 'Anybody spotted a dog?'
'The right corner linebacker is slow,' said Neiman.
The gun sounded and we all took off for the dressing room.
Chapter 14
I leaned back against the locker-room wall and slid slowly down to the floor. I felt too beaten up even to get a drink.
'How slow is that linebacker?' I asked Neiman.
He didn't appear to hear me. He had his head back against the wall and his eyes closed.
'Lennie,' I said. 'Are you with it?'
'Slower than shit,' Lennie mumbled.
'Is he ready to be plucked?'
'I'll drink to that.' Lennie still didn't open his eyes and he was still mumbling the words.
'How'd you like to play for the Vikings?'
'Shit.'
'What the hell are you doing in Des Moines?'
'Earning a living,' he said.
'You can make more teaching gym in a high school.'
'I hate teachers. My mother was a teacher.'
'Imagine playing in the Superbowl.'
'Scallen, you're washed up.'
'I'm just a dreamer.'
'Nope: A complete horse's ass.'
'Are we going to beat these guys?'
'You're going to. Some bastard out there is killing me,' Lennie groaned.
'I need this game.'
'Quit dreaming, Scallen. You need a new asshole.'
Reed and Binks came over. They started telling me what to do. I listened to them. Reed said he would call the plays in the second half.
He was crazy. He didn't know what was going on out there. Christ, a quarterback can see the whole thing. The entire field is laid out there for a quarterback once you get behind the center. Maybe Paul Brown could do it with the Cleveland Browns. He'd been a quarterback. Reed was crazy. He'd been a Hanker all his life. Not that I would turn down suggestions from somebody in the press box, but in this league the coach didn't have any assistant sitting in the press box.
I took off my helmet, dropped it on the ground.
'Get yourself another quarterback,' I said.
'You pull that and you'll never play anyplace again,' Binks said.
'Maybe Vakos will wake up for the second half.'
'Reed will call,' said Binks.
'Reed will play if he calls the plays,' I said.
'Screw it,' said Reed. 'Let him call it. Let him cut his own throat.'
They walked away. Dick Allen, the defensive line coach, was yelling across the room: 'Square off! Square off!' Then: 'Jensen, are you going to pinch or. aren't you?'
Schaeffer came over. He looked beat, his face was pale. I sat down slowly. I felt as if I'd been kicked all over by a horse.
'Do me a favor,' Schaeffer said. 'Don't run me over right tackle.'
'What's wrong?'
'Smiley isn't blocking and their tackle. Sixty-four. He's tearing my head off.'
'I'll talk to Smiley.'
'Just don't run me there.'
'Hell, I ran it myself.'
'Maybe Smiley blocked for you.'
'You can do it.'
'Don't give me that Reed crap.'
'Hustle, baby. Hustle.'
Then everybody started shouting. I wanted to go to sleep. Reed was yelling something. I picked up my helmet and started to move out.
We kicked off. The ball carrier made it to the twenty-five before Neiman hit him and Baston sat on his head. Beebe reared back on the first down and tossed the bomb and hit the spread end in mid-field. Bayfield didn't catch him until he was on our thirty. Beebe fumbled on the next play and Neiman recovered.
Flip right, flex side.
We got a little ground game going. Damn little. We punted. Decatur took over on a fair catch. Their thirty, Beebe burned us for. twelve yards on a first-down screen pass right. Our free safety picked off their third-down pass. On first down I threw a spot pass to Leighton for eleven yards.
Schaeffer got sacked. On a roll-out right I got creamed. I saw stars. Then somebody was helping me up and I was kneeling in the huddle. All the cheering sounded far away.
B-Right-50 Trap I bootlegged and faked away. The fullback went straight ahead as though blocking the tackle on a wide play. Schaeffer took the hand off. The double team block went in. The off-guard pulled, trapped the middle linebacker coming through the zero hole. Schaeffer was through the hole, running like hell. I called the same play again and somebody hit me. I went down. My head was whirling. The back end of my skull pounded. I got into the huddle. 'First down,' a voice said in the huddle. I couldn't see any receivers on the next play. The blitz nailed me. Decatur returned the punt to their forty-five.
Beebe started passing again. I started thinking about Mary Cassidy. I knelt on the sideline, trying to remember something Neiman had said to me in the dressing room. We stopped the passing and Beebe went to the ground. Klobuchar sat beside me on the bench.
'You don't know what day it is, do you? What city is this? How old are you? Who's your girl?'
'What did Neiman say to me?'
'He's out cold.'
'Who's slow?'
Beebe had this one setback, thirteen, high knees and twisty, faster than he looked, and he was knocking out the yards, short, long, short, long. Beebe was getting us up for a pass. I thought about Mary Cassidy. Crawford came out. His face looked like he'd been in a meat grinder. One eye was closed. Beebe pulled a quarterback draw and picked up eleven yards to our twenty.
Neiman was walking back and forth in front of the bench, mumbling.
Our defense stopped them on the fourteen. They tried a field goal and Crockett blocked it with one hand. I put on my helmet and jogged across the field. I ached all over.
B-Right-Flip 8 Their linebackers looked overanxious. They had a six-man rush going. I could see the inside safety watching my eyes. They were going to rush three linebackers. No pass coverage responsibility. I could smell
