Were any former players there?Neely thought not.
* * *
The next car into the parking lot stopped nearNeely's . This Spartan wore a coat and tie, and as he walked casually across the track, he, too, avoided stepping onto the playing surface. He spottedNeely and climbed the bleachers.
'How long you been here?' he asked as they shook hands.
'Not long,' Neely said. 'Is he dead?'
'No, not yet.'
Paul Curry caught forty-seven of the sixty-three touchdown passesNeely threw in their three-year career together.Crenshaw to Curry, time and time again, practically unstoppable. They had been cocaptains. They were close friends who'd drifted apart over the years. They still called each other three or four times a year. Paul's grandfather built the first Messina bank, so his future had been sealed at birth. Then he married a local girl from another prominent family. Neelywas the best man, and the wedding had been his last trip back to Messina.
'How's the family?'Neely asked.
'Fine.Mona's pregnant.'
'Of course she's pregnant.Five or six?'
'Only four.'
Neely shook his head. They were sitting three feet apart, both gazing into the distance, chatting but preoccupied. There was noise from the field house as cars and trucks began leaving.
'How's the team?'Neely asked.
'Not bad, won four lost two. The coach is a young guy from Missouri. I like him. Talent's thin.'
'Missouri?'
'Yeah, nobody within a thousand miles would take the job.'
Neely glanced at him and said, 'You've put on some weight.'
'I'm a banker and a Rotarian, but I can still outrun you.' Paul stopped quickly, sorry that he'd blurted out the last phrase. Neely's left knee was twice the size of his right. 'I'm sure you can,' Neely said with a smile. No harm done.
They watched the last of the cars and trucks speed away, most of them squealing tires or at least trying to.A lesser Spartan tradition.
Then things were quiet again. 'Do you ever come here when the place is empty?'Neely asked.
'I used to.'
'And walk around the field and remember what it was like back then?'
'I did until I gave it up.Happens to all of us.'
'This is the first time I've come back here since they retired my number.'
'And you haven't given it up. You're still living back then, still dreaming, still the ail-American quarterback.'
'I wish I'd never seen a football.'
'You had no choice in this town. Rake had us in uniforms when we were in the sixth grade. Four teams—red, blue, gold, and black, remember? No green because every kid wanted to wear green. We played Tuesday nights and
