'Nobody got taken out on that brake and swing,' Hobbs said.
'You just call the blanketyblank signals,' Kimbrough said. 'We'll do the blocking.'
'When do you plan to start?'
'Suck a husky,' Fallon said.
'That assbelly sixtytwo got his fist in,' Jessup said. 'That magnolia candyass cunt.'
'You'd better go off.'
'I guarantee you I'll mash his little mimmy. I'm serious, man. I'll waste that diddly dick before this thing's over.'
'Go off,' I said. 'Your mouth is all over your face. You're making everybody sick.'
'I'll get that shitpiss sixtytwo and smash his worthless face.'
'Down and yardage,' Cecil Rector said.
'Third and long,' Deering said.
'Are there any predictions on the outcome?' Bloomberg said.
'Be serious,' Onan told him.
Their linebackers seemed about to swarmdrop. Hobbs shouted numbers and colors over the defensive signals. I noticed that the knuckles on my left hand were all torn up. Hobbs kept changing plays, reacting to the defense. The whistle blew, delay of game, and we rehuddled and came back out. Hobbs threw to Spurgeon Cole up the middle. He got hit and dropped it. Centrex claimed fumble but the official paid no attention. Byrd Whiteside punted miserably. When he came off, Tweego told him he looked like something that had just come inching out of a buffalo's ass. I sat next to Bing Jackmin on the bench.
'I wonder what we're missing on TV,' he said.
Centrex stayed on the ground, going mainly over our left side, Lloyd Philpot and Champ Conway. On first down Telcon faked a handoff, rolled right and hit one of his backs, number
Each play must have a name. The naming of plays is important. All teams run the same plays. But each team uses an entirely different system of naming. Coaches stay up well into the night in order to name plays. They heat and reheat coffee on an old burner. No play begins until its name is called.
MiddlesiftW, alphset, lemmy2.
Taft went burning up the middle for fifteen. He got six on the next play. I was up ahead, blocking, and we went down along with three or four other people. I was on my back, somebody across my legs, when I realized their tackle, 77, was talking to me, or to Taft, or perhaps to all of us spread over the turf. He was an immense and very geometric piece of work, their biggest man, about sixseven and 270, an oblong monument to the virtues of intimidation. His full hazy eyes squinted slowly deep inside the helmet as he whispered over the grass.
'Nigger kike faggot. Kike fag. Kike. Nigger fag. Nigger kike faggot.'
Hobbs faked a trigger pitch to Taft, then handed to me, a variation off the KC draw. Mike Mallon and I met headon. I went down a bit faster than he did. Hobbs called for a measurement although we were obviously short, almost a yard. I was breathing heavily as we rehuddled. I thought one or two ribs might be broken. Taft went straight ahead, bounced off Onan Moley and tried to take it outside. A linebacker grabbed his jersey, somebody else held him upright and then 77 stormed into him. I knew we had lost yardage and I took off my helmet and started off. I heard a scuffle behind me. I put my helmet back on. It was Jessup and number 62 ready to go at each other. Bloomberg moved between them and they started to circle him, cursing each other. Then somebody pushed 62 away and Anatole took Jessup by the arm and led him off. About ten yards away Taft was just getting to his feet. Tweego had Cecil Rector by the pads as I crossed the sideline.
'I want you to fire out, boy. You're not blowing them out. You're not popping. I want you to punish that man. I want you to straighten him up and move him out. You're not doing any of those things.'
I watched Creed take one very long step to the side in order to bring Cecil within hearing range. He spoke to Cecil while looking straight out toward the field, as if even the chaos of offensive and defensive units moving in and out was infinitely more noteworthy than this wellbalanced arrangement of armor and flesh.
'You're too nice, son.'
'Yes sir.'
'You're not firing out,' Tweego yelled. 'That man is raping you. He is moving you at will. Sting him, goddamn it. Sting him. Sting him.'
'You're just too damn nice,' Creed said.
Moving on the ground, Centrex picked up three, eight, nine, then lost four on a good tackle by Dennis Smee who went spinning off a block and hit the ballcarrier very hard around the midsection as he hesitated while bellying out on a sweep. Third and five. Telcon rolled out, got set to throw, saw his man covered, sidestepped Dickie Kidd and reversed his field. Buddy Shock just missed him way behind the line. Howard Lowry grabbed an ankle and then John Billy Small was all over Telcon. He seemed to be climbing him. They both went down on top of Lowry. Punt formation. Bobby Hopper called for a fair catch. My ribs seemed all right and and I went out. Three firecrackers went off in the stands. The crowd responded with prolonged applause.
Taft took a quick toss at the point and followed me inside their left end. Then I was down and somebody was running right over me. I heard a lot of noise, pads hitting, men grunting and panting. Then it all came down on top of me. I smelled the turf and waited for the bodies to unpile. My rib cage was beginning to ache, a sense of stickiness, of glue. I felt quite happy. Somebody's hand was at the back of my neck and he put all his weight on it as he lifted himself up.
Counterfreeze, blue2 wide, swing inside delay.
I flared to the left, taking Mallon with me. Taft waited for a twocount and swung over the middle. Under pressure Hobbs threw high. Third and four. I couldn't contain my man. I tried to hold him. Then he and two others were all over Hobbs. I walked off without looking back. Whiteside punted sixty yards in the air. Jeff Elliott moved along the bench toward me.
'We're not moving the ball.'
'I know,' I said.
'That first drive was tremendous, Gary. But since then.'
'We'll probably get killed. I anticipate a final score of eightythree to seven.'
'Not this team. This is a real team. We've got the character to come back. We're only down seven. This is a team that goes out and plays.'
'I was just talking, Jeff. Psyching myself.'
'That's some way to psych yourself. How you feeling? Let me see that hand.'
'I'm feeling happy,' I said. 'Look at the arc lights, the crowd. Listen to those noises out there. Pop, pop, pop. Ving, ving. Existence without anxiety. Happiness. Knowing your body. Understanding the real needs of man. The real needs, Jeffrey.'
'I just meant your hand. It's all gouged up.'
'The universe was born in violence. Stars die violently. Elements are created out of cosmic violence.'
'Gary, this is football.'
'I'm just fooling around, Jeff. I'm not serious.'
'This team can come back. That's what all the pain and the struggle was for back there last summer. To give us the character to come back.'
'Quite right.'
'I believe in Coach,' Jeff said. 'He'll tell us what to do. Wait till half time. Coach will make adjustments.'
