Prologue
Everything isn’t what it seems at Grant High School.
On the road to football glory, Bonner isn’t the all-American boy he appears to be.
An anonymous note in Coach Winger’s Grant High School mailbox tells him the truth about the newly discovered star quarterback, Bonner.
The coach needs to decide what to do. Would he forfeit a perfect record, a dream season and his first shot at the league championship, on the basis of an unsigned note?
Who would do that?
Dropping this bomb could, almost certainly would, cost him his job. It was Coach Winger’s football team after all.
* * * *
For David
For my readers outside of the U.S.
Bonner is set on American football fields. The story is not about American football, which perhaps should be called handball, except that is a whole different ballgame. This story is about desire, two boys who love each other, and a coach who must decide whether or not to allow a player to play even though he’s technically ineligible.
His ineligibility has nothing to do with his ability to play the game well.
Dropping Bombs
It was at lunchtime on Monday when Coach Winger went to his office to prepare for that afternoon’s practice. After putting his things where he could get to them, he was off to the cafeteria.
It was spaghetti on Mondays and it wasn’t half bad. With a half dozen extra pieces of garlic bread, Coach Winger was ready to return to his office, where he had a thermos full of his wife’s sun tea waiting to wash the meal down with.
On the way he decided to check his school mailbox in the main office. He’d duck in without fear of being waylaid. Everyone would be at lunch at that time of day.
There was always information he failed to get on time because his mind was mostly on football during football season. Everyone knew if they wanted to talk to him, they’d need to catch him on the football field or during one of his U.S. History classes, but they were forever shoving special events notifications into his mailbox.
He often ended up a day late and a dollar short, literally, concerning most of these events, even the ones that specified, ‘All teachers need to attend.’
Since he hasn’t checked the box in a week, he checks to see if there is something he needs to beg his way out of doing. His mind is usually on football and only football this time of year. With Grant on its way to their best season ever, no one is going to argue with him about some mundane task he doesn’t have time to do.
Football and his U.S. history were all he had time for.
*****
Entering the season, with Casterbrook as his returning quarterback, Scott and Carlos as returning running backs, and Johnson and Taylor as receivers, Grant was expecting to have a good season, and they’d done better than that.
Grant rolled over Western in the first game of the season. The offense performed up to expectations and Coach Winger felt as though he finally had his dream team.
It crossed the coaches mind more than once, the Grant Lions may be on the way to a championship for the first time. Between the Grant Lions and a league championship stood the Woodruff Eagles in the same division Grant was in. They’d play each other in the final game of the regular season. The winner would go on to play in the league championship game.
Woodruff, defending league champions, would be the toughest test. Grant hadn’t won against Woodruff in the past five seasons, but Grant had half the team from last year returning as seniors. If they didn’t win the championship this year, he didn’t know if they’d ever be able to win it.
Being the coach at Grant High for twelve of its fifteen football seasons, Coach Winger didn’t head a football program bathed in glory. With only two winning teams in the last ten seasons, he didn’t see a future for him at Grant. Even with Casterbrook leading the charge, Coach Winger figured his coaching career was on life-support.
That’s how it looked to him at the start of the season. Now his team was riding an eight game winning streak. He was the envy of the league.
He put away his resume to enjoy the attention that came with being a winner. It was all new to him.
There was one sealed envelope in his school mailbox. It was just a slot with his name under it. He pulled it out and it felt like one sheet of paper inside.
He ripped it open.
Luckily he’d set his tray down, because he would have dropped it if he hadn’t.
He looked around. Everyone was at lunch. He would return to his office before reading it again. Maybe it wouldn’t sound so threatening the second time he read it.
He was halfway down the hall before he remembered his tray. He had to go back for it, even though he’d lost his appetite. Someone would wonder who left his tray next to the mailboxes. The cafeteria cashier could tell them who it was that had six slices of garlic bread piled on his plate.
He didn’t want anyone wondering how he managed to forget his lunch in the office next to the mailboxes. He cursed the note and he cursed his decision to check his box.
Coach Winger looked both ways before he entered the gym. No one had noticed him. He walked to his office, went in, closed the door, and he sat his tray down on the small table near his desk. He sat down and placed the open envelope in front of him. He removed the sheet of paper.
Coach Winger read the note again. Not only was the season in jeopardy, his career was too. This could ruin him. He carefully examined the note and then the envelop. There was no name on either item. The note was anonymous. Someone wrote him a note that could bring the Grant football program crashing down around him and he didn’t have the balls to put his name on it.
He thought he could ignore such a note. Why say such a thing about Bonner?
It was a hoax. He’d heard of such things before.
The coach opened his desk draw and he took out a pack of Marlboros he’d confiscated from one of his players. He remembered that there was a pack of matches with them. He struck a match and lit the corner of the paper.
It began to burn. He watched as the fire reached the words on the page. He was putting an end to a controversy before it was allowed to spread.
That’s when he had second thoughts. Coach Winger quickly put it out before the fire could destroy the words. This was evidence. He might want to keep it. He put the half burned sheet of paper back into the envelope and he opened his file cabinet and he placed it behind all the files at the back of the top drawer.
Why should he let some crackpot upset the Grant applecart? It was the best team he’d ever coached.
That’s what it was. Someone wanted to derail Grant’s season. As coach, he couldn’t allow that. He would do anything to prevent it. His boys had earned every win. They had yet to get a shot at Woodruff, and if they beat them, they’d go on to play for the league championship.
The coach went to the file cabinet and he fished around behind the files until he found the note. He took it back to his desk. He’d tried to burn the evidence. He couldn’t show it to anyone without them seeing what he’d tried to do. He’d need to say he didn’t get the note.
Was that the right thing to do? More importantly, what was he going to do with a perfect season on the line? He’d never had this kind of success with any team he coached.
Bonner’s skills were perfected and his head was always in the game. Why would anyone say such a thing about him. As the Grant quarterback, he’d led the team to one victory after another. He did it with a good team and players who had come into their own that season.
The note was a prank or it was meant to disrupt Grant’s preparations for Woodruff. That had to be it. No signature on the note meant he didn’t need to give it credibility and he didn’t believe the note anyway. He refused to upset his team by revealing what the note said. They needed to keep their minds on football and the note had nothing to do with football.
The season was every players’ and coaches’ dream.
What was the right thing to do?
What would Coach Winger do?
He put the note in the top drawer beside the Marlboros. He opened the door to his office before going to sit back behind his desk. He got up to retrieve his tray. He unscrewed the top of his thermos to poor out his wife’s sun tea.
He’d eat his lunch and forget the note.
That’s what he’d do.
*****
Coach Winger sat remembering the day Bonner walked onto the summer practice field. The boy carried his pads and his helmet. He’d recently moved into the Grant school district and he wanted to play football.
Except Bonner was too small to be a quarterback in their league and he lacked experience. Most of the teams Grant would play that season had full sized lineman who would salivate at an opportunity to rush a 150 pound quarterback. The new kid wouldn’t last the first quarter if Winger dared to put him into a game.
That’s all there was to it and that’s all the thought the coach needed to give to the new arrival. He doubted the new arrival would play a single down in a Grant game. The risk of him being injured was too great.
Bonner spent his time throwing passes to the second and third string receivers. On the days the starting team practiced on the high school football field, Bonner sat in the bleachers and watched the plays. It wasn’t a complicated offense and Bonner memorized the quarterback’s moves.
Bonner was quicker, more agile. He was accustomed to having his brothers, football players all, in his face all the time. They didn’t let up because he was small and Bonner didn’t expect them to. He knew what it felt like to be hit by a 220 pound lineman. His brothers saw to it.
Because Bonner wanted to be like his brothers, he took the hits. That’s where he learned to play football. He’d never been on an organized team, but the neighborhood boys who played football behind the Boys Club all were on football teams at school or for local football clubs. He learned from them until he was good enough to play as quarterback.
Coach Winger would pay the price for ignoring Bonner. An injury to his only quarterback, Casterbrook, had Coach Winger looking down at his mangled leg in only the second game of the season.
It was his heart breaking as a promising season seemed to be lost when his quarterback went down and he didn’t get up.
Bonner sprang up, put on his helmet, and he readied himself to go into the Central game toward the end of the third quarter. There was no thought involved. He was Grant’s only other quarterback and he had memorized the plays that Casterbrook ran in practice. Of course he’d play.
Only the coach still held onto the belief that Bonner was too small. Casterbrooks injury changed the dynamics of Grant’s season. He didn’t have another quarterback. Putting someone in to take snaps was possible, but that too was a risky proposition.
Looking at Casterbrook, waiting for the stretcher to carry him and his football hopes away, Coach Winger thought it was the end of a season he was sure would be his best ever. This was the best team he’d ever coached.
It was a clean hit. Casterbrook held onto the ball for too long, and he knew better. Rather than dumping it out of bounds and risk a penalty, he turned to distance himself between him and the charging defense. As he turned, he was hit. the side of his knee took the hit. The ACL was torn.
To make matters even worse, Casterbrook fumbled when he was hit and an alert Central player scooped up the ball and ran it into the end zone for a touchdown.
Coach Winger had to decided what he was going to do for a quarterback. Bonner, helmet on, waited for instructions.
After the extra point, which Central would make, the subsequent kickoff would come to Grant with the score Central 14 and Grant 7.
After Casterbrook was removed from the field, and the extra point was made, Coach Winger stood on the sidelines calculating what to do after the kickoff. He had to gather himself together, accept the loss, and move forward.
*****
The coach ignored Bonner, who stood at his elbow. He’d ignored him since he’d walked on at summer practice. He’d seen Bonner throw 10 out of twelve passes through the center of a swinging tire.
A tire wasn’t going to rush him. It was a cute trick.
“I can do this, coach. Let me take the snaps,” Bonner said with more confidence in his scratchy voice than he felt.
Neither of them thought Bonner would ever quarterback a game. Originally Bonner’s game was to make the Grant football team. This was way different from that.
The coach looked at Bonner closely for the first time. He didn’t know what he was going to do. He didn’t want to play Bonner. If he played Bonner and he got hurt, no one would miss that he was too small to be on the field with boys a hundred pounds heavier than he was.
Bonner had his helmet on and the refs were blowing their whistles and then the kickoff was in the air as the coach watched Scott run under it and maneuver his way to Grant’s 40 yard line.
Coach Winger’s time for vacillation was up.
He could put in some athletic kid to replace Casterbrook, Scott or Johnson could take snaps, but that was a dead end and he wasn’t going to give up. His defense could hold against any team and they deserved the best chance he could give them.
Maybe Bonner could hold his own until the end of the game. Being behind, his offense had little chance of scoring against even Central, but his defense would hold and maybe they’d force a fumble and somehow Grant could get out OT there with a tie.
“Coach, you need to get your offense on the field. I know losing your quarterback is rough, but I’ll give you a minute and then I’ll have to penalize you for delay of game.”
The head linesman ran back onto the field.
“OK, Bonner, you’re it. Hold on to the damn ball. Don’t put it on the ground. Run Scott, Carlos, Scott, and if by some miracle we get a first down, run Scott, Carlos, and Scott. God help us all,” Coach Winger said.
As quick as the snap was in Bonner’s hands, Central’s all out rush knocked him down for a five yard loss. Coach Winger held his head. The second play was a repeat of the first play, and the third play mirrored the second play. It was forth and thirty-three yards for a first down.
The remarkable thing about Bonner being sacked three times in a row. He got up after ever sack. He endured the beating he took well. Maybe they wouldn’t kill him after all.
Winger didn’t want to watch, but like with a train wreck, he couldn’t look away.
His defense held Central to a gain of seven yards in their three downs and the ball was about to be punted back to Grant.
Bonner had his helmet back on and was ready to run onto the field with his offense. Coach Winger held Bonner back.
“Bonner, you sure you want to go back out there?” Coach Winger asked.
“Yes, coach.”
“If you can avoid being sacked by throwing the ball out of bounds, go ahead and do that. Just don’t toss it to a Central player for Christ sake.”
“You said to keep it on a ground. I could have rolled out and avoided being sacked, but you said to keep it on the ground,” Bonner said. “The offensive line isn’t blocking, coach. I would do a lot better if they give me some time.”
“I know what I said. Now I’m saying, if you can’t make a clean hand off to Scott or Carlos, roll to your left and throw it out of bounds. That way we lose so many yards.”
After three straight sacks, Bonner seemed none the worse for wear. He had guts.
Bonner was only sacked twice on his second set of downs. He threw one pass out of bounds and Grant was punting to Central from their twenty-eight yard line. That was an improvement of eleven yards from his first set of downs.
It was clear that the offensive line did not have their heads in the game. Before Casterbrook’s injury, they had little trouble holding Grant’s defense out of the back field on most plays. They were not doing that for Bonner.
Bonner barely got the ball before Central was on him.
Winger didn’t know if Bonner could move the ball. He had managed to survive two sets of downs, which was remarkable but Central’s defense was overpowering Grant’s offensive line.
Coach Winger understood what was happening. He’d seen it enough times to recognize the symptoms. A key player goes down and players lose focus. They are no longer able to execute without the missing player.
The line had to hold if he was going to find out what he had in Bonner. With Central’s defense constantly in Bonner’s face, he couldn’t see down field. The line had to hold.
As the offense was ready to take the field after another three downs and out by Central, Coach Winger called the offensive line to come over to him.
He should have done it immediately after they took Casterbrook off the field, but like his offensive line, the coach was unable to execute because his mind was on the injured player and not on the game.
“I want my offensive line over here. Take a knee,” Coach Winger ordered.
His players circled him beside Grant’s bench.
“Casterbrook is gone. He won’t be back. We’ve got Bonner. You aren’t protecting him. Unless you hold their defense, and it’s a crappy defense, Bonner doesn’t have time to run a play. He’s too busy running for his life. Letting Central kick your asses won’t bring Casterbrook back, but if you protect Bonner, he might be able to move the ball. Gentlemen, we could still win this game, but you need to play like you play for Casterbrook. It’s up to you. Go out there and show me what you’ve got,” Coach Winger said.
Bonner heard it. He followed the offensive line onto the field. He’d been told what to do and if he had a couple more seconds each play, he knew he could do it. Central’s defense wasn’t as big or as aggressive as his brother’s were, and Bonner could play pretty good football with his brothers in his face.
Bonner played football with his brothers and their friends since he was twelve. He was the quarterback because his brothers were too big and too clumsy to be the quarterback. He’d been knocked down a lot but as he grew, he learned how to move, dodge, and get the ball down field.
Central’s defense came back on the field with confidence. They’d been chasing Bonner around in his backfield for two sets of downs and they were sure they could keep doing it. They were in the lead and they didn’t intend to give it up.
Bonner was in the middle of the huddle with Coach Winger’s words fresh in everyone’s heads. He would hand off to Scott, after faking a hand off to Carlos. If his line didn’t keep Central’s defense off him, he’d be sacked before he ran the play.
“OK, block those sons of bitches and let’s win this game,” Bonner yelled, his scratchy voice loud enough for Coach Winger to hear.
He expected to be sacked again, but he did his best to sell what they needed to do.
When the snap was made, he dropped back, turned toward Carlos, reversed to turn toward Scott, and by the time Scott hit the line of scrimmage, Central’s defense was on its collective ass. Grant had not only held, they ran over top of the defensive line with Scott following them.
Scott ran for twelve yards. His longest run of the day.
“Yes!” Coach Winger yelled. Thrusting his arm in the air and turning in a circle.
Bonner wasn’t sacked again that day.
“You want to win this game,” Bonner asked in the subsequent huddle.
“Yes,” the offense yelled.
“We need to tie it first. Then we’ll win it,” he said. “We can run three plays before the end of the quarter. No huddle. Next play I’ll hand off to Carlos, and then I’ll hand off to Scott. The clock will be running. Line up fast. Johnson, on the third play, go to the left sideline. On a two count, let Central blitz me. I’ll step up and throw to Johnson. He can out run anyone on the field.”
Grant was penalized five yards for delay of game.
On first and fifteen, Carlos ran for six yards. With second and nine, Scott ran for eight yards. With the clock running, Grant lined up without a huddle. On the snap Bonner started back. On a two count the line stopped blocking Central out and they flooded the backfield.
Bonner stepped up and hit Johnson on the Central 40 yard line. Johnson didn’t stop running until he set the ball down in the end zone. The kick was good.
Grant 14, Central 14.
Coach Winger had his tie and he thought that was the best they were going to do without Casterbrook. As long as the defense played up to its potential, Grant might get out of Central with a tie.
The fourth quarter started. Grant kicked off to Central, after the coach talked to his defense.
“You’ve dominated them defensively all day. A tie is as good as a win today. Hold them. Don’t give them an inch,” Coach Winger said.
Grant held Central short of making a first down and the ball was punted back to Grant with eleven minutes left in the game. Bonner handed off to Scott, Carlos, and then Scott.
Central went back to blitzing on every play. They weren’t going to give Bonner time to pass the ball and Grant was unable to make a first down. The two defenses were fired up and determined not to let the other team score.
Bonner kept the ball on the ground. After getting the snap, he turned right or left to hand off. He was creating a rhythm, a pattern, something Central could shoot at, while the offensive line held them long enough to avoid a sack.
Bonner had a plan.
Central increased the number of players they sent after Bonner on each play. They calculated that the offensive line was going to tire and when it did, they’d get to Bonner for a big loss.
Central didn’t have anything to lose. Grant was the superior team and a tie was a win to them in a season that they weren’t expecting to win many games.
The blitz came predictably the next two plays. Bonner backed away from the line with the ball, sticking it in Scott’s arms as he dropped back. Scott moved as though he was part of the fake. The Central defense passed Scott on their way to Bonner. They were sure they had him this time.
Bonner wasn’t sacked. He got rid of the ball and stood with his hands down and Central’s rush let up.
Scott broke free for a ten yard run. Grant had a first down. The clock ran with the two minute warning close.
Bonner ran Scott for three yards and the clock was stopped by the two minute warning. It would be second and seven when play resumed. Grant was on Central’s thirty-eight yard line.
In the huddle Bonner said, “I’ll run Scott up the middle on the next play. With the clock running there won’t be time to huddle. We’ll line up immediately on third down. I’ll fake to Scott and then step up. Johnson, break to your left. Once the defender bites, I’ll throw you a pass down the middle at the thirty yard line. With them blitzing every play, there won’t be anyone there who can catch you. Got it?”
Johnson said, “I got it. You guys give him time to get me the ball. We can win this game if you do.”
“A tie is like kissing your sister,” Bonner said. “Let’s win this game.”
Scott was knocked down after he gained a yard. Central’s defense was expecting Scott to run the ball.
When Grant didn’t huddle, Central was caught off guard. As Bonner was calling signals, they hurried to the line to avoid a penalty, but they were ready. On the snap Bonner dropped back, faking to Scott, and he ran straight at the line of scrimmage where eight Central defense men waited for him.
As Central focused on Scott, Bonner stepped up and passed the ball to Johnson.
Johnson ran under the ball at the thirty. He ramped up to full speed, taking the ball into the end zone.
The score was Grant 20 and Central 14.
Bonner had done it.
On a wing and a prayer Grant won the game and Bonner made a lot of new friends. The wary football team was among them.
The Casterbrook era at Grant was over.
The era of ‘Bonnerball’ had just begun.
Chapter 2
Johnson’s Crush
Some players accept the change faster than others. Casterbrook had friends on the Grant Lion’s team, but as long as Grant kept winning, no one complain too loudly.
There was a championship on the line.
Maybe Bonner would be OK.
Bonner quarterbacked the Grant Lions after the Central game. Coach Winger wasn’t sure what he had. He intended to find out by letting Bonner run the offense at practice.
The team needed to become familiar with how Bonner played the game. The team needed to know what Bonner could do. Coach Winger needed to know what he could do. That way he’d have a better idea of which plays to run.
After that, Coach Winger needed to do was pray that a two hundred and fifty pound linebacker didn’t land on Bonner. After it was all said and done, Bonner was still too small and that truth was apparent.
The other truth for Coach Winger, Bonner was the only quarterback he had.
The team took surprisingly little convincing, once Bonner pulled the rabbit out of his helmet at Central. They wanted to believe in fairy-tales and Bonner. They wanted to win. If they couldn’t do it with Casterbrook, they were more than willing to win with Bonner.
Casterbrook didn’t come to practice until Tuesday after the game in which he tore his ACL He was on crutches.
Casterbrook stood on the sidelines watching Bonner moving his offense up and down the field. He handed off to Scott, to Carlos, to Scott, and he threw passes to Johnson and Taylor. Once he used them all, he started all over again.
Coach Winger blew his whistle, yelled instructions, and he let Bonner run his offense. He’d seen Casterbrook hobble out to the football field. He wanted Casterbrook to watch for long enough to process that it wasn’t his team any longer.
This was the cruel truth about football and most sports. No matter how big a star you are, once you can’t play any longer, the game will find a way to go on without you.
When Coach Winger called a break, the offense crowded around casterbrook. Bonner steered clear. He wouldn’t add insult to injury. He knew how he’d feel if the roles were reversed.
Johnson said hello to Casterbrook. He wished him well. Then he went to stand by Bonner. Other players followed Johnson’s lead. Casterbrook’s closest friends wanted to stay around him as long as possible.
Having an injured player hanging around practice served no purpose and players didn’t need to be reminded that football was a rough game and some of them would get hurt. Casterbrook’s season was over.
Coach Winger let the team stay with Casterbrook for as long as they wanted. The players got it out of their system. One by one they went to stand next to Bonner. Practice wasn’t over for another hour and they had work to do.
Casterbrook watched. He never spoke to Bonner. He knew he was the quarterback now, but the Lions were his team, and he had nothing to say to the boy who replaced him. It was a difficult pill to swallow for a player with high hopes of having his dream season.
Coach Winger stood next to Casterbrook, once he was alone on the sideline.
“They need to practice with Bonner calling signals. You need to go home and heal up. Maybe you’ll get back before the season ends and it’ll be your team again,” Coach Winger told him.
Unconvincingly Casterbrook said, “Yeah. Maybe.”
The coach knew he’d be lucky to be ready to take snaps by the beginning of his freshman year in college. He’d seen other boys with the same injury. A year was optimistic, and some players never played again after tearing their ACL.
*****
It was a long way from winning the second game at Central, but after 8 games, Grant had 8 wins. Bonner was playing quarterback like he was born to play the position.
Coach Winger still tried to limit him and keep the ball on the ground, but it was the passes from Bonner to Johnson that won most of the eight games. He didn’t encourage Bonner to pass but he knew the inevitability of a boy doing what his instincts told him to do.
Bonner was fearless under pressure. With the opposing team determined to take him down, Bonner could almost always manage to get the ball to a receiver and if he couldn’t do that, he’d pass the ball out of bounds, but he was most dangerous to the opposition when they had him under pressure. Coach Winger understood that too.
Most of the time his receiver of choice was Tad Johnson. Taylor caught his share when he got open, but Tad had great hands and he was the fastest receiver around. He was also tall and an easy target for Bonner to find. The combination kept the Grant Lion’s undefeated.
Maybe Bonner’s size was an advantage, because of how he played the game. He could stop on a dime, change directions, while ducking under an all out rush. Teams had begun to defend against Bonner’s passes.
Once Bonner saw the opposition putting two players on his receivers, he answered by running Scott, Carlos, and then Scott again. He controlled the game by keeping other teams off balance.
When Casterbrook was injured, the students wrote the Lions off for another losing season, A team with so many losing seasons behind them didn’t inspire optimism. Not until Bonner, a complete unknown to everyone, rescued Grant’s football program.
By the time Grant was 5-0 the student body was filling the stand at Grant and when there was an away game, caravans formed in front of Grant High to carry the fans to where ever the away game was being played.
It was Bonner’s team. Casterbrook didn’t reappear at practice. The new kid became the quarterback and overnight Bonner became one of the most popular kids in school.
Even the Grant students decided winning was better than losing, and the boy who rescued Coach Winger’s football program had become a very big deal.
Bonner’s hoarse whisper of a voice, the result of being hit in the throat by a football playfully thrown by one of his brothers, sounded like the bark he used in the huddle when he spoke over the microphone to the student body. He was the player who spoke for his team, but Bonner didn’t have much to say. He preferred to do his talking with a football.
After the fifth win, and again after the eighth win, there was an assembly to honor the Lions. After the eighth win, the most wins for any Lion’s football team, the assembly was a celebration with only one regular season game left.
Coach Winger told the student body, “We’ll bring you the league championship if you’d like.”
They liked and they gave Coach Winger and his boys a standing ovation. The school was a buzz with talk of winning the league championship in football for the first time.
“Woodruff next week,” Coach Winger said. “It will be the toughest game of the season. If we beat Woodruff, we’ll be playing for the league championship.”
The assembly had been on Monday. It was the day that he found the note in his mailbox at lunch. The morning assembly had the school talking about football.
The Grant Lion’s season had gone from dream, to nightmare, and back to a dream again.
Now there was that note.
*****
Sitting at his desk, remembering a season lost and found, he opened the top drawer to look at the note one more time.
So much promise and only two games left to play.
*****
If anyone asked Bonner, ‘What have you done for me lately?’
He could say, ‘Win!’
Ask Tad Johnson, ‘Who would you rather throw you the football, Casterbrook or Bonner?’
He’d answer, “Bonner.’
Once Bonner took over as quarterback, Johnson didn’t understand what was happening to him. At seventeen football was his one true love, but now, a few months before he turned eighteen, Tad had developed strong feelings for Bonner and he’d become protective of him.
Tad liked Bonner in a way he never liked a boy before. Bonner was on his mind all the time. Even before Bonner took over at quarterback, Johnson had his eye on him.
Bonner treated Johnson’s feelings as if they were no big deal. Their relationship was built around football. There was still work to do and games to win.
After the season, there would be plenty of time to see where their relationship might go.
Bonner understood how his favorite receiver might become infatuated with him and he didn’t mind. The closer Johnson got the more Bonner liked him. What wasn’t to like about the tall handsome receiver?
Whenever Bonner got into trouble, Tad bailed him out by getting open down field. He’d wave his long arms over his head until Bonner saw him and he got off a quick pass.
Bonner knew there was nothing wrong with liking another boy. With the season almost over there was plenty of time to build on their friendship. After the season they were free to let their feelings for each other blossom.
There was a chance that Tad’s feelings might change once they no longer had football between them. While Johnson was going on to college and a career as a dependable receiver, Bonner knew this was the end of the line for him. College football was out of the question for a diminutive quarterback, no matter how accurate his passes.
Johnson falling for the quarterback wasn’t Part of Bonner’s game plan, but you never knew how a football game, or life, was going to turn out. For now he’d go with the flow and let whatever happened happen.
A six foot two inch receiver makes an easy target. Having open field running speed college recruiters salivate over, Johnson’s boyish good looks and his easy going style makes him everyone’s favorite Lion, and he’s comfortable standing next to the school’s star quarterback.
The only fly in the ointment, Tad Johnson is sure everyone knows his secret, but regardless, he couldn’t stay away from the boy who threw the passes.
When talking about meeting after practice or on weekends, their plans include a place far from Grant High.
The jokes about how close they are has Tad on defense. He knows how it looks when he follows Bonner around like his pet poodle. While he can’t stay away from Bonner, when they go out, he doesn’t want to risk anyone from school seeing them together.
Having difficulty accepting his attraction to Bonner, it was what it was but his feelings were not like any feelings he’d felt before. They went far beyond friendship.
By the time Grant won games 6-7-8, Bonner and Tad were becoming accustomed to their away from school meetings, and Bonner found himself becoming anxious when Tad was late, and Tad was always late.
When Bonner had time to think, he always thought about his brother’s influence on him. It was their devotion to football that had him wanting to play the game. He idolized his four brothers and they included him in games they played with the neighborhood kids as they progressed through a high school twenty miles away from Grant.
His older brothers all played football in high school. Bonner played football with them when he was significantly smaller than he was now. His brothers never gave him a break. They hit him hard and often, and Bonner always got up. Only a football thrown playfully at his face left a lasting impression on his voice. Bonner liked his voice. It made him sound more masculine than he was.
As he waited for Tad after game eight, he remembered his plan. He went through great machinations in order to get to go to Grant. He was a walk-on at summer practice. He had gone to Grant because he thought he could make the football team. It was the kind of thing that would make no sense to ordinary people, but Bonner wanted to prove he was as good as his brothers. He wanted to make the football team. That’s as far as his plan went. Being small had him thinking that making the team was his goal. He’d never envisioned a starting role on the Grant Lions.
Bonner realized that once his plan was set in motion, momentum took over. Had he thought about being called on to be the starting quarterback before he walked onto Grant’s practice field, he’d have run like hell.
Now he was not only on the Grant Lions, he led them to victory seven times in the seven games he’d played.
*****
Coach Winger learned long ago to ignore the gossip young men invented to embarrass, gross out, and impress his teammates.
There was no end to the lengths teenage boys would go to get a laugh, or better yet, to get a disgusting grown out of his buddies and teammates.
Even so, there was something that had been said more than once about Johnson being linked to Bonner in more than a casual way. Could there be something in that. Did Tad Johnson know the truth?
Coach Winger wondered, do I want to talk to Bonner or Johnson, and then he shook off that idea of bringing the note up at all. If he didn’t know anything, why would he be questioning his players about Johnson and Bonner.
He needed to be cautious. He needed to think it through before taking any action or no action.
*****
There were two games left if they beat Woodruff and went to the league championship game. Woodruff was the perennial favorite in the western division. In the last ten seasons, Grant had beaten Woodruff twice. With them ready to face off, they both were 8-0 and the winner of the game they played against each other went to the championship game. The other team went home.
Bonner wondered if he was in over his head. Everyone thought he was after Casterbrook got hurt. He was the only one who believed he could be Grant’s quarterback, but it was getting a bit rich. Bonner wondered if he could play well enough to beat Woodruff. Woodruff had always been tough on the Grant Lions, according to the past copies of The Lion’s Den, the Grant school paper..
Tad read more into their meetings than Bonner did, but Bonner knew he liked Tad the first time he saw him. Who didn’t like tall dark and handsome? The trick was to keep their minds on football until the season was over. Then they could work on what they felt for each other.
They were both seventeen. There was no rush.
Johnson had plenty of friends on the Lions. As a junior he was the team’s leading scorer, He was Casterbrook’s favorite target, because he had sure hands and fast feet.
As a junior, Grant won half its games, finishing 5-4. Casterbrook to Johnson in their senior year was a combination that would carry them to the championship game, …and ‘The best laid plans of mice and men.’
The championship hopes now depended on Bonner.
Passing and catching weren’t the only thing on Tad Johnson’s mind. The first time Tad scored a touchdown pass that Bonner threw, he felt it what Bonner hugged him after that score.
Tad looked into Bonner’s baby blue eyes and a twinge of something joined the rush that came from scoring a touchdown. He’d caught a lot of Casterbrook passes and he never once thought the hug that went with it was anything but part of the game.
It was way more than that now. With Bonner it was stimulating in a way that had nothing to do with football and everything to do with feelings he’d never felt before.
Tad liked a boy. That came as a surprise to him. He’d had a lot of teammates and some became close friends, but he never thought of kissing one, until the first time Bonner and him hugged.
Tad loved football. He was a natural. He was quick and sure handed. He’d developed a knack for knowing where to go when a play fell apart. Even with Bonner scrambling, Johnson knew where to be for Bonner to find him.
The Grant Lions won two games because Johnson knew where to go for a hail Mary pass that he caught for a score.
Bonner and Tad have become closer than most high school athletes would comfortably be. They take advantage of any time they can get together, but most of their time together is on the football field after school.
Whenever possible, they meet in town for a few hours of off the field friendship.
It was on his way to such a meeting that Tad examined how he’d developed a crush on Bonner. He still found the concept difficult to conceive, but as contrary as it was to anything he’d encountered before, it wasn’t something he had any interest in walking away from.
If he was gay, so be it, he’d need to accept it.
*****
As Bonner sat waiting for Tad, he’d run it all through his mind too. Like becoming the starting quarterback, his feelings for Tad simply happened. He didn’t expect to fall in love with his number one receiver.
Bonner thought that Tad was number one in more ways than one. Since the day he walked on at Grant, his luck had only improved in ways no one could have predicted.
Life was a trip and Bonner didn’t want to miss a thing.
*****
“Hi, Tad,” Bonner said. “You’re running late again.”
“Yeah, chores. I was ready to leave when the old man wanted the garbage cans taken down to the curb. Sorry, Bonner. Didn’t mean to keep you waiting again.”
Bonner’s hand went up as the waitress passed behind the counter a few feet away.
“Ready, hon?” she asked.
“Yeah, he finally made it,” Bonner said in a raspy reply.
She brought her pad to the table.
“What will it be, gentlemen?”
“Double Header and your big Coke. Do you have fries?” Tad asked, not having eaten since dinner two hours before.
“Sure,” she said. “Bucket or barrel, hon?”
“Better make it a barrel,” Tad said. “I’m starved. Sorry, Bonner. It’s been hours since dinner. Two at least.”
“Double banana split, barrel of fries, Coke giganticus, and what would you like, cutie pie?”
“One scoop of strawberry ice cream,” Bonner said.
The waitress smiled, looking at Tad and then looking at Bonner. She shook her head at the discrepancy.
“You on a diet, hon? You look pretty slim to me,” the waitress said.
“Can’t keep my fleet feet if I gain weight. Goes straight to my hips. My pads are tailored to fit this body, not a larger version. I need to be fast,” Bonner said before the waitress walked away.
“Maybe Carlos will start running better. He was quicker off the ball last season,” Tad said.
“I could run Carlos and Scott every play. The opposition could catch on to that,” Bonner said. “We’ll need all our weapons to beat Woodruff,” Bonner said. “They were champions last year and they’ve had their way with Grant for years.”
Tad looked around the nearly empty restaurant.
“Why don’t you have more? I look like a slob eating so much in front of you. Order a burger. I’ll pay for it. You need your protein.”
“I can wait to pig out at some later date. For now I need to be cautious about what I eat,” Bonner said.
“You look fine to me. In fact… you look way better than fine,” Tad said, looking around to be sure he wasn’t heard.
“I’m treating you, because you deserve a treat. You had a great game Saturday. It’s the least I can do for you. Besides, it gives us a chance to spend time together. The more you eat the longer I get to look at you.”
Tad blushed.
“I feel guilty. Eat something, Bonner. Please.”
“I am. One scoop of strawberry. You’re slim. You burn more calories eating then you consume. I put on weight if I look at the wrong food for too long. Only two more games. I’ll eat once the season is over.”
“I’ll hold you to that. You look fine to me.”
“Thank you, Mr. Johnson. You don’t look bad yourself.”
“Cut it out, Bonner. Someone called me the F word in the locker room after practice today.”
“They called you a frog, Tad? That’s not polite.”
“That isn’t funny. You know what I mean. They called me a faggot. I’ve got a reputation. I want to play college ball. That gets around and I’m toast.”
“Who called you that, Tad? Give me a name. I’ll kick his ass for you. The recruiter from State loves you. You’ve got a full scholarship sewed up.”
“I don’t know who. Someone yelled it,” Tad said. “I knew who they were talking to. I’m the one who follows you around like a puppy.”
“Some of those Neanderthal call each other names all the time. You’ve got a guilty conscience, lover boy? They weren’t talking to you, Tad.”
“You know how I feel about you, Bonner. They were talking to me. I’m not stupid and they aren’t blind. I don’t know how to hide my feelings. Not these feelings anyway.”
“Look, Tad, you’ve got two games left. Then you go down in Grant history as the best receiver ever. You’re the most popular player. Just because we love each other doesn’t change anything. That’s if you don’t take an ad out in the school paper saying you love me. We’ll be fine.”
“I told you what I did so you’d stop worrying and you’re still worrying. There’s nothing wrong with you. There’s nothing wrong with loving someone.”
“I know. I know, but I don’t understand it, Bonner.”
“It takes work, Tad. I can’t always make sense of it myself. I know what I feel. How and why, not so much.”
“I was just coming to grips with the idea that I’m gay,” Tad said. “Now I’m more confused than ever. I’m not sure what I am.”
“What you are is the best receiver in the league, not to mention one of the best in the state. That’s what you need to remember. As long as you keep catching passes, no one at Grant will care what you do or who you love. When we win the championship, you’ll be a star. That’s what you are.”
“When you say it, I believe it, but I can’t help but worry about people thinking I’m odd, you know.”
“Nothing else matters, Tad. We’ll win the championship and you’ll have a hundred colleges to pick from. After that you have a lifetime to work on who you want to be and what you want to do. There is no rush.”
“I get that. What I’m saying is, Just when I think I know the score, it all changes, and I find out I don’t know anything, or everything I do know is wrong.”
“You think too much. Stick to football, Tad. Once the season ends, we get to do what we want.”
“I’ve never felt like this before. I think about you more than I think about football and I’ve never thought about anything else. Ask my teachers.”
“We have two more games. Forget about distractions. Concentrate on the game. We’ll deal with this later.”
The food arrived.
“Here’s the tub-a-fries, Coke, giant split, and one scoop of Strawberry ice cream for you,” the waitress said, dispensing the tray full of food.
“Bonner, eat something. Have some fries,” Tad begged, finishing his first fist full before digging into the double banana split.
“They’re poison. One of those suckers and I gain five pounds. I’ll watch you eat. I won’t gain as much that way.”
“Cut it out. You look good.”
“Not half as good as you look, banana man. You need to keep up your strength for later.”
“Bonner! Cut it out. Someone will hear.”
“They’ll have to get their own banana man. You’re taken,” Bonner said.
“Bonner!”
“You’re going to have ulcers, Tad. No one knows anything and they aren’t likely to find out. Everything is cool. Enjoy your snack.”
Bonner took small spoons of ice cream as Tad devoured the ton of food in front of him, while worrying about Bonner not eating more.
Chapter 3
Truth & Consequences
After an assembly to honor Grant’s football team for winning its eighth consecutive football game, Coach Winger finds a note in his school mailbox. Suddenly the team that refuses to lose is in danger of having their undefeated season ended by a technicality.
The coach is having difficulty deciding what to do.
Should he confront Bonner. Risk upsetting him before the biggest game of the season or should he destroy the anonymous note?
Closing in on the greatest season of his coaching career, Coach Jonathan Wilson Winger was at a loss. No matter what he did, there were going to be consequences.
The information contained on the note seemed improbable. His mind couldn’t get beyond the confusion the note caused. Coach Winger was an educated man and he should be able to find a reasonable solution that wouldn’t compromise his team and end the best season in Grant’s history short of its natural completion.
He was in an awkward position. His career and the teams season depended on him making the right call. What was the right call and could he make it and still live with himself after he did? The answer eluded him.
The note could still be a hoax. It was unsigned.
There plain and simply was no replacement for Bonner. Scott could take snaps and hand off to one of the backs, but they weren’t going to beat Woodruff with a patchwork backfield.
If they didn’t beat Woodruff, there would be no championship game. He couldn’t help but wonder if that’s why the note arrived now. Someone wanted Grant to fall to Woodruff.
For the first time in his twelve years at Grant, he knew his Lions were better than the Woodruff Eagles. As the team stood, with Bonner at quarterback, Grant would likely win.
With Bonner at the helm winning the championship was a real possibility. Without him the winning streak would end at Woodruff. The repercussions could be never ending.
Coach Winger hated the idea of being dishonest. If he broke a rule to win, and got caught doing it, his coaching career was over. He might coach at some out of the way backwater, but he’d never get a shot at coaching a first class program again and his reputation would be trashed no matter where he coached.
Maybe by talking to Bonner the answer will become obvious. The note could well be a hoax. Spoiling what the entire team had accomplished was unthinkable. What he should do is tell Bonner to clear out his locker, but what if the note wasn’t true. What if it was meant to disrupt preparations for the Woodruff game.
What was his next step? If this came to light, he was obligated to file a report with league headquarters. They’d rule Grant was playing with an ineligible player. The entire season would be forfeit.
What if he said nothing? Let Bonner play the last two games. An undefeated season and a championship would speak for itself. The league would have a hard time overruling that once it was done.
What if this wasn’t the only note sent. Would anyone start an investigation on the basis of an unsigned note? Such a note wasn’t evidence of anything. It was gossip.
Who would know he got the note?
The author of the note. He would pick up a paper and see that Bonner played in the Woodruff game.
Someone was out there that might be able to blow up Grant’s season no matter what Coach Winger did. He had to do something to head off that possibility. He was the coach.
*****
“Bonner!” he yelled through his open office door, having waited for as long as he could.
“Yeah, Coach?” Bonner answered from the locker room.
“Get your ass in here, pronto!”
“Yeah, Coach, I got to dress, ” Bonner explained in his raspy voice.
“Do it pronto and get your ass in here,” Coach Winger said loud and clear.
He was setting wheels in motion that would leave a trail a mile wide if there was ever an investigation. He should have waited until he could get Bonner alone, but he hadn’t. He needed to do something now.
Bonner didn’t like the sound in Coach Winger’s voice. As Tad stood next to him drying his hair, the coaches bellow echoed through the locker room. Everyone looked up.
Had the fair haired Bonner finally stepped into it?
“Are you OK,” Tad asked, wrapping his towel around his narrow waist.
“I’m fine. He probably put too much sugar in his ice tea,” Bonner said, but the sound the coach made worried Grant’s quarterback.
Bonner finished buttoning the shirt as he stepped into the coaches office.
“Shut the door and get your butt in that chair, ” the coach ordered with anger in his voice.
Coach Winger was as close to blowing a fuse as he’d ever come. He wanted to stay in control, but there were some things that didn’t come with an on and off switch.
Bonner sat facing the Coach’s desk.
The coach had yet to stop pacing behind his chair.
This caused Bonner great distress. Coach Winger looked as if he was about to explode. Bonner calculated that only one thing was capable of getting this kind of reaction out of him. The only flaw in Bonner’s makeup had been revealed. Nothing else would explain the emotion in the man’s words. He’d maintained a gentleness while handling Bonner since the Central game, once he realized the season depended on him.
The truth must have come out, but how? No one knew anything. Smart people had covered his trail.
If that was what was eating on Winger, it would take some fancy footwork to defuse this eventuality.
Bonner thought about this contingency, after Casterbrook’s injury. Being the starting quarterback for the Grant Lions was not part of the original plan. His initial instincts were to run like hell.
He wasn’t as sure about being the starting quarterback as he was about making the team. It was a big step up, a challenge.
Was he good enough to pull that off? There was only one way to find out.
Once Casterbrook went down, who else was there?
He was thrust into the league’s football wars at Central. After a pretty bleak beginning, Bonner began to play football the way his brothers taught him to play.
It was too late to devise a reasonable escape plan after that. His initial instincts weren’t developed beyond, run like hell.
Once he took the first snap, there was no escape clause that appealed to him. He decided to see if he could be Grant’s starting quarterback. He could for seven games. He lead the Grant Lions to seven wins.
Bonner was trapped by his deception. Unless he was wrong, it was about to come back to bite him. In his wildest dreams he’d never seen himself leading the Grant Lions onto the field before a game. He’d never seen himself as becoming one of the most popular boys in school.
How could he. The plan was to make the team.
He didn’t want it to stop playing once he started. He couldn’t quit without knowing how far he could go and they still had Woodruff to beat and a championship game to win. He was living a dream he never dared to have. Why shouldn’t he finish what he started and see just how far the Grant Lions could go on his arm? They had been playing the best football they could play and it happened to be the best football being played in the league that season.
But why get too far out ahead of himself. Maybe it was something else. Maybe the worst thing that could possibly happen to him at this stage of the game wasn’t happening.
If his secret became public knowledge, he’d not only loose his position as Grant’s quarterback, but he’d be thrown out of school to boot, but education wasn’t the reason he enrolled at Grant. Football was. Except for one tiny alteration of his documentation, Bonner was like any other kid playing football at Grant.
Maybe it wasn’t what he thought. Maybe the coach didn’t know the truth.
****
While passing behind his chair the coach yanked it off the floor and threw it against the file cabinet over and over again. He banged the chair on the floor time and time again, once it failed to sit level on its now broken wheels.
Coach Winger had boiled all afternoon and the pressure was released in his rage. His hopes of a perfect season dashed against the rocks of reality, like the wheels on his chair were smashed on the concrete floor in his office.
Bonner shuddered. This wasn’t going to end well. Secrets were a terrible thing to keep and they became worse once the secret was out, but nothing but the secret would cause Coach Winger to erupt this way. He was always careful with Bonner, until now, and Bonner knew why.
The coach was a good man. He could be reasoned with. Finally picking up his chair, the coach placed it where it belonged behind his desk. He appeared to have gotten what ever it was out of his system.
Bonner waited.
Coach Winger sat down in his now lopsided chair. Bonner was relatively positive that the wheels might come off of one if not both of their wagons by day’s end. It was obvious that somehow the truth had surfaced.
The trick would be to state the facts of the matter clearly and without equivocation. It would be necessary to trust Coach Winger’s judgment on the matter.
What was done was done. Why not finish the season. If they defeated Woodruff and won the championship, they were going a long way in proving their case to anyone who questions Bonner’s eligibility.
Coach Winger wasn’t a man who could easily cut and run. If there was a cause bigger than himself, he might see the wisdom in finishing what had been started all those weeks ago. Neither of them wanted to turn back. The season was coming to a close.
Regaining his composure, the coach looked at Bonner. He calmly ran both hands through his thick black hair. He sat up straight, drumming two fingers on his ink blotter. The blotter was filled with the coach’s scrawl. Designs, numbers, notes without symmetry covered the blotter. Bonner was written diagonally across the entire ink blotter in bold black letters. A huge question mark came after the name.
The drumming continued.
Bonner anticipated what was coming. It wasn’t going to be good. There was no changing what was already set in motion. The trick would be to finish what they’d started and Bonner had no idea how to reach that outcome.
It was the logical thing to do, since they’d come this far. It wouldn’t be without cost, should the truth come out, but an undefeated season and the championship just might be worth the fallout.
Both Coach Winger and Bonner wanted the same thing. Bonner knew the Coach wouldn’t call him into the office just to say, ‘clean out your locker.’ No, there was some give in the coach. He was looking for a way to finish the season with Bonner at quarterback.
Bonner was ready to fight for the starting quarterback position, which was a dream too vast to consider at the time of tryouts for the team. Making the team was a long shot back then. Once on the team, there was the outside hope of coming in to spell the starting quarterback late in tough games. It’s what backup quarterbacks did.
At five foot eight and one hundred and fifty pounds, Bonner was light and agile, not to mention ten pounds lighter than his physical said. A couple of five pound inserts in his clothing accounting for the extra weight. His equipment made him look more like a quarterback. It would be quick accurate releases that told the tale in a game. You couldn’t see those aspects by glancing at Bonner.
Casterbrook looked like a quarterback. At six foot and a hundred and eighty pounds, he was in command, He was the returning starting quarterback. He started most games in his junior season. The Grant Lions’ future rested on his arm and his slippery running game, until it no longer could. All bets were off after Casterbrook’s injury.
Grant’s football future was in tatters. The hopes for a championship season were gone.
No one, especially Coach Winger, could imagine a walk-on, a backup quarterback who hasn’t played a single down with the first team, could save the season. It was inconceivable. Grant would have yet another losing season. With so much hope, the air went out of Grant’s balloon while Casterbrook still lay on Central’s football field.
There had been no option and Bonner was the only one in the running for the job. Anyone could stand behind the center and take snaps, but what you did after you got the ball required imagination and skill.
Bonner had none of the assets that made Casterbrook a better than average quarterback. Even with his short comings, Grant had won every game. The only game in doubt was the game in which Casterbrook was injured. He’d fumbled. A Central player ran for a touchdown and the lead.
Bonner struggled but managed to save the Central game. Prepared for defeat, Coach Winger liked how Bonner moved. He was quick. His passes were accurate. These things didn’t offset his size.
Replacing Casterbrook, no matter who played in his place, would be unpopular. Put an inferior player in his place and Coach Winger would never hear the end of it.
Something about a season lost and being found again gave Bonner an edge over the negativity. Winning does that. Perhaps Bonner being small somehow helped to win over the student body.
No one imagined Bonner as the starting quarterback but once he was, he proved he was up to the challenge, while being petrified. This wasn’t part of the plan, but athletics do make for strange heroes and strange goats.
Everyone at Grant knew who Bonner was. No one knew much about him, not that it mattered. He’d shown up in the nick of time. No one cared where Bonner came from. Coach Winger didn’t give it a thought. He walked on at summer practice. He was registered as a Grant student and his physical to play sports at Grant was in order.
What else did a coach need to know?
He hadn’t given it a thought until now. He didn’t care how Bonner got to Grant, he did. Until he found the note in his mailbox, he knew everything he needed to know. Casterbrook tore up his knee. Bonner replaced him and the Grant Lions were 8-0 for the first time in school history.
Coach Winger knew nothing to the contrary until now. He was innocent until now. Bonner was Grant’s quarterback until now. That’s what the coach knew looking at Bonner..
What was the right thing to do? What would he do?
If the note was true, what options did he have?
*****
“Hey, Bonner, don’t you ever shower?” Crockett asked. “You’re lady must love getting a whiff of you. You hiding a tiny pecker or something?”
“If you want to see my dick, just say so Crockett. We shouldn’t do it in front of the team though. I wouldn’t want you feeling inadequate once you get a look at what I got.”
There were chuckles before the locker room went back to its usually low buzz. Coach Winger had heard the exchange. Boys took pride in grossing each other out. He’d heard it all and he could no longer be surprised by boy talk. Coach Winger remembered the conversation. Bonner’s physical had said, ‘Skin condition makes it advisable for Bonner not to shower in gym. The condition can be spread if another boy comes in contact with water Bonner has been in contact with. It isn’t likely, but it is possible. Better to be safe than sorry.’
Coach Winger recalled those precise words, because they struck him as unusual. Bonner’s appearance at summer practice had been unusual.
Bonner had been waiting for this confrontation. It was inevitable and he’d known to go at it head on. He was the team’s leader in title if not in the minds of defensive players. Casterbrook’s friends resented Bonner, but as long as the Grant Lions won, Casterbrook’s best buds stayed silent, except for the locker room hijinx.
The difficult part was in keeping Tad from coming to his rescue when someone threw an insult Bonner’s way. Tad wanted to protect his smaller friend. This came natural to Tad. It also gave other players something else to talk about.
Crockett was humungous and thus no physical threat to the slightly built Bonner. There was a mismatch physically but in the intelligence end of the game, Crockett couldn’t carry Bonner’s jockstrap and Bonner knew it. On the intellectual scale, Bonner was quicker on and off the field than most of the Grant players.
Coach Winger had checked it all out thoroughly. Bonner was a good student and football made him popular with the student body. He was a regular guy by all reports.
Bonner walking toward Crockett’s locker confused everyone. Stopping very close to Crockett, who was startled to see Bonner come so close, played into Bonner’s hands.
“I got me this skin condition, Crockett, old buddy,” Bonner said, looping his arm over Crockett’s burly shoulder in a friendly gesture.
“What kind of condition?” Crockett quizzed, reluctant to be that close to any boy not on a football field.
“I’d spell it for you but we wouldn’t want you to hurt your brain,” Bonner said.
A few boys chuckled, realizing Crockett was no match for Bonner in the brain department.
“I caught it while my family was in Asia. There was a bacteria in the water and once you got it inside you, your skin gets funky. You catch it by drinking the water or by having physical contact with someone else, you see,” Bonner said, ever so slowly moving his arm away from Crockett.
Crockett looked horrified.
“That’s why I don’t shower with you boys. It’s nothing personal, you see, but I promised to be careful.”
“That’s gross,” Crockett said.
“Don’t worry. It’s not easy to spread if you remove water from the equation. “An infected person can’t give it to you by touching you. I was just pulling your chain, but we’re in contact with the same water, the wiggly things would jump off me and into the water and then they can jump on you. Water is the pathway to getting it.”
Bonner patted Crockett’s shoulder.
“Quit it. Don’t touch me,” Crockett said, losing his appetite for his annoying banter to get Bonner’s goat.
“Why don’t we quit trying to cause trouble, Crockett. I don’t like trouble on my team and I’m way bigger than Bonner,” Tad Johnson said, coming over to stop the confrontation before it could escalate.
Coach Winger moved toward the door of his office. He watched the activities in the locker room. He decided to defuse any further discussions of Bonner’s showering habits.
“It’s not contagious,” Coach Winger said. “We wouldn’t let a student come in here if it was contagious or represented any health risk. It’s a medical condition and best left to the doctors and not so much football players. It has nothing to do with you boys and that will be the last we hear about it.”
Coach Winger gave little thought to that paragraph in Bonner’s physical, until now. It would be consistent with the conclusion the note came to.
So could a dozen other things.
Looking at Bonner, Coach Winger saw the same medium size boy he’d been seeing all season. He was still too small to be playing at this level.
How Bonner had the instincts of a seasoned football player was hard to say, but he did. He used his size to his advantage. Bigger boys couldn’t stop on a dime and reverse direction in which they were running. When a defense broke through Grant’s offensive line to charge Bonner, he stopped moving backward and stepped up. The defense ran right past him, which gave Bonner time to get rid of the ball .
By that time Bonner had honed in on an open receiver, and if he didn’t pass, he might run for ten yards.
These things gave Coach Winger heart palpitations and one win after another.
Coach Winger needed to do something, but what? He wouldn’t make a decision on his emotions. He had Bonner where he wanted him, but what did he do with him?
*****
The grace and poise of Grant’s new quarterback was being discussed around the league by game eight of the season, after another team fell to the Grant Lions. Most teams decided to blitz Bonner as often as possible, and defense men made mad dashes to stop the dancing quarterback before he had time to pass the ball.
By the time most coaches realized they were playing Bonner’s game, the Grant Lions led by two or three touchdowns. Bonner didn’t set out to pass, but he had no other option with so many boys rushing into Grant’s backfield to stop him, but big defensive players couldn’t change direction as fast as Bonner could, but they didn’t stop trying.
They were playing Bonner’s game. While you are chasing the quarterback, his receivers are getting open. Bonner passed accurately while he was on the run. He spent years running from his brothers in games in his old neighborhood.
Those pickup games had taught Bonner well. He had moves honed by years of running from the bigger boys his brothers always brought along to play.
It’s why he loved the game. Besides his brothers being good football players, they were quick to admit that Bonner could always figure out a way to throw or run the football before taking another big hit.
He’d wanted to make the Grant football team and what happened after he did wasn’t in anyone’s game plan.
Bonner wanted to finish what he’d started, and he’d need to be fast on his feet to convince Coach Winger that the right path to take was to let Bonner do what Bonner did best.
It served no purpose to quit before the season ended.
Chapter 4
4th & Forever
Coach Winger was a fair man who played by the rules. It seemed to him that this was no minor infraction that he could overlook. If it was decided that he allowed an ineligible player to play on his team, all the games the ineligible player played would be forfeited. He, the coach, who allowed the ineligible player to play would be fired.
Ineligible players could have failed to meet academic standards and were therefore ineligible to play on an athletic team. Sometimes a player was ineligible because of being older than the rules allowed. If a player couldn’t pass the physical to establish eligibility, he could not play athletics.
Bonner’s grades were far above the minimum standard. He was eighteen year old and he met the age requirement. Bonner passed the required physical. Even if the note was true, Bonner met the requirements to play high school athletics.
Coach Winger examined these facts to be sure. Did the note represent a technical discrepancy. In a court of law, the coach wasn’t sure the law wouldn’t support Bonner’s right to play. Coach Winger didn’t want to go to court to explain why he didn’t allow Bonner to play. This was a consideration.
*****
The students at Grant all knew Bonner. They stopped the quarterback in the halls to offer well-wishes for the upcoming game. They mentioned their appreciation for the winning season.
Everyone wanted to know if Grant could seal the deal and beat Woodruff, a team that gave Grant fits. Coming off a 5-4 season, a good year for Grant, after a succession of losing seasons, Bonner is leading the Grant Lions to a respectability they’ve never before enjoyed.
What wasn’t to like about that?
Bonner was the perfect athletic hero. He was smaller than most football players and he was frequently scrambling away from larger boys while passing or running the ball. Who doesn’t root for the little guy. Except perfection is rarely perfect for long, and it rarely gets that way by ordinary means, which brings us to the coaches dilemma.
Bonner knew from the beginning that this day could come, but not after so much football had been played. With two weeks left Bonner couldn’t throw in the towel now.
The season ended with the championship game. No matter what was decided after that, Grant would always have made it to the championship game no matter what technicalities were used to claim otherwise.
Once they were winning games, Bonner dreaded the idea that someone would figure out his secret. Breaking the rules was never a good idea if it could be avoided, but sometimes breaking the rules was the only way to force change that creates true fairness in athletics.
Nudging the rules to one side didn’t give Bonner any guilt whatsoever. It wasn’t breaking anything to let the game play out the way it was intended to be played. Bonner was good enough to play and Grant’s record proved that. If it ended here it became a gigantic waste for a team coming off its eighth win in a row.
It shouldn’t end here.
“How long did you think you could hide it? Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” Coach Winger legitimately wanted to know.
He was completely calm. This wasn’t about Grant’s football team. He was face to face with Bonner and his intellectual side wanted all the information he could get. Coach Winger wanted to see the whole picture.
“What, Coach?” Bonner asked in a last ditch effort to avoid the conversation they were about to have.
Stupidity didn’t look good on Bonner. Coach Winger let it slide. He needed the truth. He needed to know how Bonner pulled it off? He couldn’t have done it alone.
“Bonner!” Coach Winger whispered. “I know. Do you understand the position I’m in here? Your team is in? Do you want to go out there and tell your team. I don’t want to tell them.”
“No, I don’t. It isn’t important. I’m a football player. I’m a quarterback. That’s all that matters. Aren’t I good enough to play for you, coach? Aren’t we undefeated? Why quit before we get beat, if we get beat? Why do that? We haven’t finished yet, Coach. We aren’t done unless you throw in the towel on us, but why would you do that?” Bonner’s raspy voice forced Coach Winger to listen closely to the words.
Coach Winger’s glare would have wilted the luster off a rose. The coach was ruler, king, and dictator of his team. You piss off the dictator and your ass is grass. What Bonner said was economic, to the point, and factual. He didn’t overstate his case. He used an intellectual argument.
Bonner made Coach Winger look like a genius, and now they both knew Bonner could ruin the coach’s career, if it wasn’t already ruined. Confession may have been good for the soul but it didn’t win football games.
Coach Winger wasn’t a man you could toy with or put something over on, but Bonner had put something over on him. Now the chickens had come home to roost. The Piper
had to be paid. Bonner was going to face the music, and Grant football was toast once he did, unless cooler heads prevailed and the rule in question was examined.
Coach Winger couldn’t separate himself from the fallout no matter what happened. if the truth was out, he’d take the fall with Bonner. It was his team and his responsibility was to know everything about it.
The fingers drummed and Coach Winger’s career flashed in front of him, especially the last seven games. He’d longed for a gifted quarterback like Bonner, but you had to be careful what you wished for.
If it was true, he was in violation of league rules, but he needed Bonner to finish what he’d started. As much as he wanted to dismiss it, his stomach was tied in knots by the words. He liked Bonner, but the rules were clear on this subject. Bonner had to go if it was true. The season had to go. Their shot at the championship would go with it. Why would someone write such a thing if it wasn’t true?
Bonner didn’t deny it. He was a quarterback. He was Grant’s quarterback. He didn’t mind saying so.
Coach Winger could help but envision Bonner outwitting defenses. His ability to change directions confounded defenses. His quick release and his ability to pass on the run accounted for a lot of Grant’s offense. It was Bonnerball. He’d never seen anything like it, and Bonner and Tad Johnson were like the bobbsey twins. In games, in practice, in the locker room, where you saw one you saw the other one.
As soon as Bonner was on the run during a game, Johnson went to the left sideline five to ten yards down field. Within a couple of seconds, with Bonner on the run, he flicked a pass right to Johnson.
It was like they could read each other’s mind.
He’d seen that before. He considered it instinct. Somehow two players were in sync and one knew where the other one was and what he’d be doing. When Bonner tossed his passes out of the backfield while being pursued, he never looked to see where Johnson was. Johnson knew where to be to catch the pass. It’s not something you can practice.
The Bonner to Johnson connection worked and it won games. The Grant Lions were making a habit of winning games on what looked like broken plays. It was more complicated than it looked.
It’s not the way Coach Winger played football. His game was run, run, run, and hold the other team to as few yards as you could. A strong running game and a tight defense was a better way to go. Once you let your quarterback start putting the ball in the air, bad things could happen. There were more mistakes made passing the ball.
Bonner was beating the defenses thrown against him. Defenses were forced to back off the line to keep Johnson in check. That’s when Bonner dropped back, handing to Scott or Carlos, rolling left to confuse defenses. Just when they knew he was going to be passing the ball, he went to the running game and the defense had to adjust again.
The running backs were piling up the yards. Defenses had to turn their attention to the running game, and that’s when Bonner dropped back, flicking a pass to Johnson. The Grant Lions were rolling. They had it all and even a team like Woodruff was going to find Grant hard to beat.
With the anxiety Coach Winger suffered on the sidelines, Bonner mixed up his plays that won the games. The coach continued to draw up running plays that ate up the clock and the yardage, but Bonner’s passes won most of the games.
It’s what was important and a season lost had been found on the arm of a too small quarterback. The pass was the only way Bonner could stay alive. Winger didn’t like it but he accepted it.
You can afford to change your game when you’re winning, but it seemed too good to be true.
*****
Yeah, Coach Winger had cause to wonder where Bonner came from. He asked some of the players but no one knew anything. Bonner had transferred in as a senior. After he did, no one could have seen what was coming.
No one knew Bonner transferred in just to play football. Coach Winger wanted to know more and then again he didn’t want to know too much. He accepted that fate sent Bonner to rescue Grant football. He wanted to believe, but it wasn’t fate but fact that brought him down to earth. He hadn’t looked too closely and now he was going to pay for it.
What was too good to be true might not be true at all.
He did check the authenticity of Bonner’s physical and his transcripts were all in order. He didn’t call Bonner’s old school. He saw the information he needed to establish Bonner’s age and good health.
As players went, Bonner was among the smartest. He didn’t ask for more than the knowledge that Bonner met all the requirements to play.
Coach Winger knew a starting quarterback didn’t just drop out of the sky. He knew there was something about Bonner that wasn’t quite right, but he took it on faith that Bonner was what he said he was, a quarterback.
In his desire to win it’s all that mattered. No matter how Bonner came to the Grant Lions, he was the answer to a lot of players, and obviously no one had looked at him too closely, especially when Grant was winning every game.
The idea no one knew Bonner and Coach Winger could find no record of Bonner playing football anywhere in the area did make him suspicious, but a lot of high school boys didn’t come into their own until their senior year.
Athletes mature at different rates. Some were more like full grown men at sixteen and others were still boys at eighteen. You didn’t know when a boy might blossom on the athletic field.
Bonner was a late bloomer. He was small, agile, and smarter than the average player. Bonner was a nice insurance policy to have in case your starting quarterback got hurt. No one could have seen Casterbrook’s injury coming. There was no time to check Bonner’s pedigree, once the coach was scrambling to salvage the season.
What choice did he have but to see if Bonner could play football, and he could. So Bonner became Grant’s starting quarterback. There was nothing out of the ordinary. Lord knows Bonner’s talent wasn’t apparent until he was put into a game and he excelled. It was all done by the numbers. No one could say any different.
Someone knew otherwise and they wanted Coach Winger to know they knew. How could he ignore it? How could he write it off as anything but the threat it was?
Was coach Winger responsible to see that a student who had been admitted to school by the administration was everything he said he was? He didn’t think so.
It wasn’t up to a coach. There was a school administration responsible for being sure a student was legitimately enrolled. Some coaches yawned when it came to even looking at a players physical. If he walked on the field and had a desire to play, that was good enough. If their grades weren’t good enough for a player to keep his eligibility, the administration sent a form saying so.
Playing Bonner would violate league rules now that he knew the truth. Playing his quarterback in another game was to knowingly violate league rules. His entire career was on the line. Up until he saw the he did nothing wrong. He still had done anything wrong.
He’d called Bonner into his office. Everyone heard him. Everyone would remember it if asked.
‘How did your coach sound?’
‘He was pissed. I’ve never heard him that pissed,’ players would say. ‘Especially not at Bonner.’
Coach Winger knew his ass was hanging out.
From this point forward, it was on him. Even if he said he never got the note, the players would remember him calling Bonner into his office and closing the door.
He still couldn’t bring himself to tell Bonner to clean out his locker. locker, because that would end it in a way that sold out his quarterback and his team.
It wasn’t the ending Coach Winger had written in his mind. This might be his one and only chance at a perfect season and a league championship to go with it.
Bonner may not have been what he appeared to be but pound for pound he was a hell of a football player.
*****
There wasn’t a member of the student body who didn’t swooned over the All-American quarterback. He’d come out of the blue to rescue Grant football. The girls wanted to be with him and the boys wanted to be him.
Grant had never been in the hunt for a championship this late in the season before. A year that didn’t come with a losing football team was a very good year. Having a team that plowed under every team it faced was beyond the student bodies’ wildest dream, not to mention the teachers and the administration. Grant did not have a great deal of athletic tradition going for it.
What if Coach Winger ended it right there in his office?
How could it be fair to take away what might be Grant’s only shot at the championship? It wasn’t just the students. His players would earned the right to play for the championship if they beat Woodruff.
Without Bonner Grant would lose to Woodruff and the season would end. That wasn’t in doubt.
If asked at the beginning of the season, ‘What would you do if you were found to be using an ineligible player?’
He;d have told the player to clean out his locker.
Faced with sacking Bonner, he wasn’t quite so sure. Grant was on a roll. Bonner met all the requirements according to league rules. He passed his physical and his grades were excellent. He’d done what every boy was required to do. The technicality that made Bonner ineligible never came to mind, until someone sent that note.
Coach Winger thought about gossip he heard linking Bonner to Johnson. A quarterback and his favorite receiver were always close. For boys to talk about their closeness wasn’t unusual. It was Casterbrook’s friends who started that one, and he gave it the same credibility he gave anything he heard in the locker room. It wasn’t part of the game and listening to teenage boys carried its own risks.
Boys on athletic teams bonded in odd ways. Boys were odd period. It was best for a coach not to get involved in locker room gossip. He really didn’t care what the boys did away from the football field as long as they didn’t get arrested or harm themselves in ways that made them useless to the team. He was a coach not a babysitter.
There were things a coach didn’t want to know.
There was a facet to Johnson’s relationship with Bonner that Coach Winger had noticed. Johnson was overly protective of his quarterback, but he was Bonner’s favorite receiver. There was protection and than there was protection. Johnson was a team co-captain, popular with everyone, and he’d grown into a dynamite receiver. It would be more suspicious if he wasn’t close to his quarterback.
There just wasn’t anything to see.
Bonner was more at risk than other players. Put a hundred and fifty pound quarterback against a couple of two hundred and fifty pound linebackers and the consequences could be stark.
Bonner had done everything he’d been asked to do. There was no question about talent and willingness to give a hundred percent. No matter the challenge, Bonner answered the bell in every game. He didn’t come off the field until the game ended.
Few high school quarterbacks had the poise to stand in a collapsing pocket, with linebackers closing in, waiting until the last second before flicking out a perfect pass. Bonner could do that. Bonner had done all he’d been asked to do. He deserved the right to be allowed to finish the season. A technicality shouldn’t be allowed to disqualify him.
Coach Winger looked up from the anonymous note. So what, he thought, quickly pushing that idea out of his head.
His dark eyes drilled into Bonner as he moved the note in his quarterback’s direction. He wanted to gauge Bonner’s reaction. This would help him to decide his next move.
Bonner shrugged, sliding the note back to the coach.
“Someone doesn’t want me playing in the Woodruff game. If you bench me, they’ll win,” Bonner said. “I know you’re smarter than that. You’ve waited for your entire career to have a team like this.”
Bonner hit his marks. There was no shock or surprise. He stated the obvious in a way Coach Winger couldn’t deny. It was the team of a lifetime. Lots of coaches spent an entire career never having a team as good as this one.
His mind refused to say the words he’d rehearsed. Maybe there was a way out. There had to be a way out.
“If this is true, you do understand this might very well cost me my job. You’ll never play football again? We’ll probably forfeit all our wins and the trip to the championship game. You need to tell the truth. It’s between you and me.”
“Coach Winger, if this was true you’d have had me clean out my locker before practice. You’ve had this note for some time. You were angry all afternoon. You decided to spring it on me to see my reaction. My reaction is simple. Let’s get ready for Woodruff and kick their asses.”
Winger smiled. Bonner was always cool under pressure.
What Coach Winger didn’t know was that Bonner lay awake many nights playing this scenario through his mind.
Coach Winger wondered, what’s wrong with me? This wasn’t how he imagined this meeting going. Bonner was ready for him. If the note was true, it didn’t seem to fluster Bonner, but if it was true, Bonner would have been ready for how to react, once he knew he was caught.
Not only that, Bonner thought it through before he enrolled at Grant, he’d consulted people who knew what he was doing and they told him how best to do it. Their goals may have been different, but the tactics were the same.
After several months with being the talk of the league, why did the author of the note wait until now to send it? With two games left, it was sent at a time the author of the note calculated it would do the most damage to Grant’s football program. The idea of it made Coach Winger mad all over again. Such a cowardly act shouldn’t be rewarded with capitulation no matter the consequences.
The season would end in two weeks. He didn’t care what happened after that. They’d come this far and what was done was done. Coach Winger would get his boys ready for Woodruff. Once they beat Woodruff, they’d probably face Duval in the championship game. Grant could beat Duval with Bonner at quarterback. It was no more complicated then that.
“Do you expect me to ignore this note?” Coach Winger asked, hoping to get an answer he could accept.
“Think about it. I came here to make your football team. That’s all I did. You made me the starting quarterback, because I could play the game. I want to finish what we started, Coach. This is nonsense and you know it. If it’s true, what advantage does that give the Lions? If this is true, you’re working at a handicap. If this is true, you’re doing something no one else has ever done, and while you’re doing it while winning a championship. I’d call that downright heroic.”
“If it is true, it is against the rules,” Winger said.
“And we know what rules are made for,” Bonner said.
Coach Winger looked up from the note again, after carefully reading the words. He was listening. He shouldn’t be listening to Bonner, but he was. He should tell Bonner to clean out his locker, but he had listened and he wasn’t going to tell Bonner that.
“No, but that’s not the issue. I can’t ignore this. It was in my mailbox. I can’t say I didn’t know, and from this point forward, I’m complicit.”
“Who sent it? Who could have had access to it?”
“What’s it matter who sent it? Your secret is out, Bonner. I can’t pretend not to know what I know. I’ve been accused of being dense, but I’m not that dense. I’m the responsible party here.”
“Why didn’t they send a note like that to the newspapers or the league offices? No name. No explanation. A note that could be made up to stop Grant in its tracks. Someone from Woodruff would be my guess. Why would you even read such a note? You couldn’t believe it’s true.”
Coach Winger was still listening.
“I’ve got to act on it or I lose all credibility.”
“If they were after you they’d have sent it to the league offices. Whoever sent it was privy to a piece of information they wanted you to have. Why you? Why now, a few days before the Woodruff game?”
“The Woodruff game !” Coach Winger said, getting his mind back to football.
“What harm has been done? I’ve been playing since the second game of the season. We’re 8-0. Neither one of us knew if I could play quarterback in game conditions. I could. Do I give Grant an unfair advantage over the competition? Look at me, Coach. Physically there is no advantage in playing me. The only advantage I have is that I’m good, and if I wasn’t good, you wouldn’t have gotten that note, and we wouldn’t be sitting here pondering what it means. Finish burning that note. You gave me a shot, just like any other boy gets an equal shot to play. Let’s finish what we started.”
Bonner spoke softly and without hesitation in that scratchy voice Coach Winger easily recognized as uniquely Bonner’s. His quarterback came at the problem from a different direction, but his words made sense. They had started a journey months ago and they should be allowed to finish it. His team should play the final two games and after that, they could sort it out if Grant became league champions.
“How’d you pull it off? Who sent you to Grant? Why Grant?” Coach Winger asked.
“It doesn’t matter who, Coach. I was told you were a man that loved the game and you’d give me a chance even if the truth came out. You are a fair coach. Let Grant have its season in the sun. I’ll walk away once it’s over. I made no promises to do anything different than that if I made the team.”
The fingers began drumming again. Bonner couldn’t read Coach Winger now. His team’s dream season was in jeopardy and he was helpless, but he was thinking.
“Look, Coach, let me play. Like you said, they’ll take the wins away anyway. Let’s win them all and then let them say we didn’t win them. They can erase them from the record but everyone will know we won the games. Playing me gave us no unfair advantage. We played the best ball. We played football the way it was intended to be played and we won.”
“If they say I was ineligible and take away Grant’s wins, it’s on them. We aren’t cheating and Grant has played the best football,” Bonner said, while Coach Winger listened.
“Will they really want to pursue this or would they want to keep it quiet? I’m betting on the quiet. What would it say about football in our league if they rob us of our wins?
“I want to play. Admit it, you want me to play. How long will you have to wait for another season like this?”
“I need to give this more thought. Don’t mention this to anyone. Especially don’t talk to Johnson about it. What does Johnson know?”
“Johnson? He doesn’t know anything.”
“He’s awful protective of you, Bonner.”
“I’m small. He’s big. He’s taking care of a teammate. He’s Grant’s best receiver. He doesn’t know anything else.”
“Keep this between you and me. You aren’t off the hook here, Bonner. I need time to think.”
Bonner stood as he watched Coach Winger drumming his fingers and looking beyond the coaches office.
Bonner opened the door and he returned to his locker where a fully dressed Tad waited for him. He was leaning against Bonner’s locker.
“What was that all about?”
“Woodruff,” Bonner said. “The coach is anxious. He wanted me to tell him we are going to beat Woodruff. I told him and he feels better now.”
“What did he really say?” Tad asked.
“I’ll tell you about it one day,” Bonner said, closing his locker.
The two boys left the gym together.
Chapter 5
Push-back
Mr. Winger tells his U. S. history class, “History is made when the people decide that change is necessary or when the people decide the government is no longer representing them.
When the government is working against the best interests of the people, there will be change. History is made when events overpower tradition.”
“One person alone rarely changes the course of history. A few can alert the people to the need for change. When large numbers of people demand change, history can be altered. It can be done peacefully at the ballot box or it can be violent. How violent depending on how resistant those in power decide to be.”
“Over six hundred thousand died in the American Civil War. It was Americans fighting Americans. It’s called the war of northern aggression in the South. In the North it became seen as a fight for America’s soul. Would they allow slavery, forced labor, or were all men truly created equal in the struggle for life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.”
“Regardless of what the two sides were fighting for, the North won and the south was vanquished. Lincoln said in his second inaugural, “…Malice toward none, charity for all.”
To heal the nation, Lincoln wanted to put the Civil War behind him. Lincoln was assassinated. Whatever he had in mind for the healing of the nation died with him. For a hundred years black citizens were neither slave nor free.”
“This condition remained in place until the people changed it. It didn’t take a civil war but people did die for this cause. They died fighting for other people’s rights.” “Tradition is hard to overcome in some cases and the people need to stay strong if they want to create change.”
“This is well recorded history. You can read about it in books galore but there is one more truth about history that you should know. The winners get to write the history. What you read might be slanted by the author’s opinion. It’s a good idea to take history with a grain of salt and while you’re at it, read things that were written by someone on the losing side. It could give you a better perspective.”
*****
Mr. Winger, the history teacher, knew history teachers should never make history. Coach Winger knew a football team could make history.
Few football players made history, but many are famous, even adored. Heroes, even those who only play a game, are necessary to inspire others to be heroic.
*****
Coach Winger sat alone in the middle of the bleachers watching his team practice Wednesday afternoon. In particular he watched Bonner move. He was smooth, quick, and he could turn on a dime, making his defense look bad.
The Woodruff game was Saturday and there would be one more full out practice and a light workout Friday to keep his players loose.
They’d leave early enough on Saturday to run a light practice on Woodruff”s field. It was a good idea to allow his players time to acclimate to another team’s field. It It helped to settle nerves and the players realized the field was just a football field.
Coach Winger watched as Kronkowski broke free of the offensive line. He ran straight for Bonner. This was what Coach Winger feared. One defender getting loose in the backfield, hitting Bonner head-on. Kronkowski playfully picked Bonner up and swung him around in his arms. That’s not how it would go at Woodruff and Coach Winger knew it.
Woodruff constantly had a winning program. They won games and they were reigning champions of the league. A winner did not look favorably on an upstart team coming into their yard and challenging them.
Woodruff would be determined to stop Grant.
Grant could beat Woodruff. Grant’s team was better than Woodruff’s on paper, but Woodruff had an advantage. They were accustomed to being league champions and for a team to knock them off their pedestal, they’d need to play very good ball. Woodruff wouldn’t simply roll over and Woodruff wouldn’t allow Bonner to control the backfield the way other teams did.
Bonner knew this would be the toughest game he ever played. It was best to keep it simple and not go out of his way to make Woodruff look bad. They’d only become more determined to win if Bonner used all his weapons to defeat them. In this game Bonner would play conservatively.
If Grant did what it was capable of doing and didn’t make any big mistakes, they’d beat Woodruff on their own turf. Doing that meant Grant would be heading for the championship game a week later.
The thought of it made the coach smile.
The evidence was destroyed but the person who sent it was still out there. That was the problem. Grant could play football. Bonner could quarterback. If only the natural forces were allowed to stay in play, it would be okay, win or lose. Coach Winger understood that wasn’t the only thing in play. He’d made his decision and he’d rise or fall with it, as would Grant High School’s football fortunes.
Coach Winger had checked the football field for unexpected gatherings of reporters and photographers, or worse yet, a contingent of league officials, waiting to put Grant down. Each day as his team went out for practice, the field and the bleachers were empty.
No one cared about Grant’s preparations for Woodruff. It eased the coaches’ mind but he didn’t stop worrying.
*****
Perfection in the regular season, going 8-0, wasn’t easy. Woodruff did it on a regular basis, but they’d been the class of the league since the school opened eighteen years before.
Woodruff had the best of everything. Grant was just the poor sister of the rich neighbor. Beating them just once and going to the championship game would make Grant’s day for a long time to come.
Grant was ready. There would be no over confidence. This was the game when they’d pull out all the stops and use every play in the play book to make sure they were ready for Woodruff.
*****
They arrived at Woodruff a little after ten Saturday morning. No one was there to greet them, which made Coach Winger feel better.
Grant’s football team went immediately to the playing field to warm up and check out the field. Pads and equipment were left on the bus to be retrieved later. For the time being they’d just be at Woodruff. The test of wills would start in less than two hours.
An assistant coach from Woodruff came out to greet Coach Winger. They were acquainted and Grant’s team was invited into the cafeteria for a light snack before the game. Coach Winger accepted this show of respect for his team. He’d been playing at Woodruff for years and no one gave him so much as a howdy-do. Woodruff knew they were in for a fight and being polite gave Grant no extra incentive to want to take it out on Woodruff, but any boy could look at the wall of his school and see how many times a team they played beat them. It was incentive enough for Grant’s boys.
The fruit, juices, breads, and pastries hit the spot. No one needed to be reminded to eat lightly before a game.
Once Grant was suited up and ready for the game, they returned to their side of the field. The stands ere already starting to fill up. Woodruff had a stadium with seating all around the field. There were light towers at both ends and on each side of the field. Woodruff played night games, but this game was played in the middle of the day.,
*****
Grant fans sat behind their team and there were a lot of Grant students, teachers, and administrators on hand to see if Grant would finish the the regular season 9-0.
The principal, vice-principal, and other administrators came to stand behind the bench as they waited for the game to start. Coach Winger was polite but for the most part silent. He looked around the stadium for any unusual gathering of reporters and photographers, but except for Grant’s photographer and Woodruff’s photographers and video recording team, no one appeared out of place.
Grant won the coin toss and they would receive the kickoff that started the game. Bonner had been practicing a pass play to open the game with and Coach Winger gave his approval. Once that play was completed, Bonner would go to the running game, and that alone would set Woodruff back on their heels.
Scott ran the kickoff to the thirty-six yard line in Grant territory. Bonner knelt in the huddle for about five seconds. That wasn’t long enough to draw up a pass play and so the idea Grant already knew the first play gave them another advantage.
Bonner started his three step drop back, faked to Carlos, stepped forward as three Woodruff linemen ran past him. He threw a pass straight across the fifty yard line and Taylor caught it on the Woodruff forty-seven. He ran for a score. The extra point was good. Grant had taken control of the game. Woodruff would need to play catch up.
It was Grant 7 Woodruff 0.
The Grant fans went wild. Bonner’s name was mentioned in a cheer by the Grant Cheerleaders, and Woodruff was less than thrilled.
Grant’s defense was fired up. They sacked the Woodruff quarterback on the first play the Eagles ran. Followed by two running plays, Woodruff took the ball from their twenty-five to the thirty-one in three plays.
Grant held Woodruff on their first set of downs.
Bonner went to the ground game. He handed off to Scott, to Carlos, to Scott, and they went from the Grant 32 to the Woodruff 48 in three plays. Grant was controlling both sides of the line and Woodruff wasn’t able to interrupt the constant forward movement of the football by Grant.
On first down and on the Woodruff twenty-three yard line toward the end of the first quarter, Bonner dropped back and hit Johnson on the left side of the field and he ran the ball to the Woodruff seven yard line.
On the first down Woodruff held. Grant might have lost half a yard. On the second down Scott ran to the four. On third down Bonner kept Scott and Carlos on either side of him, and he had Tad line up behind him. With three backs in the backfield it gave Woodruff more to think about. They either didn’t realize it was Johnson lined up behind Bonner, or it didn’t impress them. They lined up in their run defense, and flooded the end zone to protect against a Bonner pass.
Bonner faked to Carlos while doing his three step drop back, handing the ball to Johnson as he ran past the quarterback, following Scott and Carlos into the end zone. If a Woodruff player touched Johnson, no one saw it.
Grant brought their A game and there was plenty of motivation to beat Woodruff.
This once again brought the Grant fans to their feet. There were shouts of, ‘Johnson, Johnson, Johnson.’
With three quarters to play it was Grant 14 Woodruff 0.
Bonner was relaxed as he watched the defense give some ground to Woodruff. It was a grinding running game and it took Woodruff all they had to gain ten yards in the three downs they were given. For 6 sets of downs which ate up over eight minutes, Woodruff went from their own twenty-five to the Grant fifteen.
Then, on a broken play that left Woodruff’s quarterback holding the ball, he ran into the end zone as Grants defense was keeping the two Eagle backs from getting beyond the line of scrimmage.
It was Grant 14, Woodruff 7, as the half ended.
Woodruff’s defense was almost as good as Grant’s and the third quarter became a game of defenses. Neither team crossed the fifty yard line in the third quarter. Woodruff knew that if they let Grant score again, with the way Grant’s defense was playing, they’d never catch up.
This was the game Coach Winger was expecting. The two defenses were slugging it out.
It was Grant 14, Woodruff 7, when the fourth quarter began. It had been a hard fought game.
Woodruff took the kickoff and stayed on the ground. In five minutes they made it to the Grant forty, where they ran out of steam, but the punt nailed Grant back on its seven yard line. It was the worst starting position for Grant in the game and Woodruff was determined to keep them pinned back deep in their own territory.
This was the kind of start for a drive that allowed a good team to get back into a game. On first down Scott ran to the fifteen. This gave Bonner some running room. He watched the Woodruff defense prepare for another running play. A high school quarterback wouldn’t pass this deep in his territory and they were confident they’d continue to stop the run short of a first down.
If it played out that way, Grant would punt from deep on its side of the field and Woodruff might get the ball at midfield. Any kind of run back, they’d be set up for a score.
Bonner nodded to Johnson in the huddle.
His raspy voice was lower more direct and to the point.
“They’ve been stopping us on the run for the entire second half. Johnson, to the left, when you reach the sideline, cut to the middle of the field. I’ll hit you at the thirty. You’re the fastest guy on the field, Tad. We need that score to keep Woodruff from getting back into the game. There are only a few minutes left.”
What Bonner didn’t say was, If the play didn’t work, Woodruff would be set up to tie the game. If they did that, Woodruff would believe they could win the game. Bonner hoped to erase any idea that Grant might lose.
When Winger realized what Grant was lining up to do, his initial response was to put his hands up to his head. Woodruff didn’t see it but they hadn’t watched the Bonner to Johnson railroad all season. If the play didn’t work, they were letting Woodruff back in the game.
Coach Winger walked in front of the bench waiting for the snap. Bonner dropped back, faked to Carlos, turned, and then he was moving forward with his arm cocked back.
Faking to the left, where Johnson caught most of Bonner’s passes, Bonner redirected his pass straight down the field. The defense was everywhere but anywhere close to Johnson who was running down the middle of the field.
When Johnson stopped running, he stood in the end zone, placing the ball at his feet. The entire Grant Lion team rolled over top of Johnson, knocking him to the turf.
When Johnson stood up, Bonner hugged him, and whistled blew as Grant was penalized for delay of game.
It was the kind of celebration Grant’s football teams had only watched other teams have. They understood it would take a miracle for Woodruff to make a comeback now.
Woodruff wasn’t accustomed to watching other teams celebrate on their field. They didn’t like it and there were five minutes left in the game. Grant might win but Woodruff wasn’t going to allow them to win without paying a price.
Woodruff ran one play after another. The quarterback dropped back to pass on third and five. He was sacked by Grant’s fired up defense.
*****
Woodruff punted. Under pressure, the ball went off the side of the kicker’s foot. Grant got the ball on Woodruff’s 40 yard line.
Just before the two minute warning, Bonner took his quick drop and when he went to hand off to Scott, he wasn’t there. He’d tripped over Carlos as they moved behind Bonner to take the hand off.
With Grant’s offensive line holding, Bonner cocked his arm and sailed a pass over Johnson’s right shoulder and into his arms. Johnson knew what to do when a play broke down and Bonner knew where to look for him. Johnson took the ball inside the Woodruff 20 yard line.
The clock continued to run.
On the next play, Woodruff stopped Scott at the line of scrimmage. On second down Woodruff broke through and came after Bonner, who flicked a pass where he thought Johnson would be, and he was.
This time Johnson was tackled by his own players in Woodruff’s end zone. When Johnson stood up, expecting Bonner to leap into his arm for what was no doubt the play that cinched the game for Grant, Bonner wasn’t there
Johnson saw Scott and Carlos standing back at the old line of scrimmage. They were looking down at Bonner as Coach Winger ran onto the field.
The crowd went silent..
What Johnson hadn’t seen, when Bonner launched the short pass to Johnson, one of Woodruff’s linebackers was coming around the right side of Grant’s line into the open. He had his sites set on Bonner and even seeing the ball leave the quarterback’s hand didn’t slow the linebacker who was determined to make Bonner pay for his ability to get passes away in tight situations.
Woodruff’s defense had been denied for the entire game and while Grant may win, it wouldn’t be without cost.
As Bonner followed through with the pass, his arm was extended. The linebacker didn’t slow and he hit Bonner where his ribs were exposed.
Grant’s quarterback went down hard. Woodruff’s linebacker landed on top of him. Then he jumped up to thrust his fist in the air in triumph.
He did what he set out to do.
It was a late hit. Everyone in the stadium witnessed it and there was little doubt why the cheap shot was taken.
Champions don’t like to be beaten in their own yard. Even Woodruff fans fell silent, after the vicious hit.
Victory rarely came without paying a price.
Coach Winger didn’t hold his head in his hands. He was too busy running to his quarterback. He’d expected this to happen long before it did. With the season so close to ending, he couldn’t help but wonder, why now.
Chapter 6
We Are the Champions
Bonner wasn’t in school on Monday and he didn’t appear at practice that afternoon.
Coach Winger ran his usual loose exercises and short scrimmage without equipment on the Monday after a game.
The defense was a tightly honed unit after nine wins.
His athletes were well conditioned. They’d loosen up and go through the motions. Players didn’t need to be told where they belonged or what to do. If a player didn’t know by now, he wouldn’t be playing much when Saturday rolled around.
Coach Winger paced the sidelines. He didn’t know if he had a quarterback or not. He wouldn’t run his offense with anyone but Bonner at the helm. He didn’t want to mess with their timing and he kept them doing light exercise, after telling them that Bonner needed a couple of days off for him to be ready for the game against Duval.
In the back of his mind the coach knew Bonner would play if he could play. Until he knew different, he made no move that looked like he was planning to use Scott to call signals and handle the ball. If it came to that, they’d only run simple running plays. The ball would stay on the ground and Scott would do what he was told to do.
Coach Winger remembered his foul mood after Casterbrook was hurt. He thought about how shaky he was after he received that note. He wasn’t sure if Bonner would play or not. He had a plan if he couldn’t play but he wasn’t going to write Bonner off yet.
He didn’t know how seriously Bonner was hurt. He refused medical attention once he got up after he was blindsided. He had been alert but there was no doubt he took a serious hit.
The linebacker who hit Bonner was ejected from the game and it cost Woodruff fifteen yards for the late hit. It didn’t matter in either case. Woodruff was going to lose. Grant was going to win. It remained to be seen what the final cost for that win would be.
The penalty was assessed on the subsequent kickoff. With the score Grant 21 and Woodruff 7 and a little over two minutes to play, the game was virtually over . Woodruff hadn’t moved the ball well for the entire game and there wasn’t much time left on the clock.
Woodruff’s season was over. Grant was going on to play Duval in the league championship game.
*****
Monday, spaghetti day in the cafeteria, Coach Winger stopped at the office before going to get his lunch. He asked for Bonner’s file and he wrote down his listed phone number.
“He isn’t in school today Mrs. Myer said. “Do you know about that?”
“Did you ask the principal?” Coach Winger asked.
“No, it’s only his second absence this year. You’re asking for his file. I thought you might know something.”
“He was injured in Saturday’s game. He’s probably been told to rest. I didn’t expect him to be in school today.”
“There was a game Saturday?” Mrs. Myer asked.
Coach Winger closed the file and put the sheet of paper with Bonner’s number on it in his pocket. He didn’t say anything else. If the principal asked, he could say he’d checked on Bonner, which he had no intention of doing. What he didn’t know could hurt him, but he was willing to take his chances.
How was it the principal’s secretary didn’t know Grant won the biggest game in school history Saturday?
He resisted the desire to clue her in.
While Bonner said he’d be fine, Coach Winger knew better. Bonner was having difficulty breathing and that indicated trouble. Most doctors familiar with athletes were going to tell Bonner to avoid physical activity for two weeks.
Coach Winger was playing on Bonner’s field and he’d wait until Bonner got in touch with him. He’d seen the hit and it was the kind of thing he feared all along. Bonner held up well until last Saturday. If Bonner was more seriously injured than bruised ribs, he’d have called by now.
Showing courage, Bonner walked off the field under his own power, while leaning on Johnson. Walking and breathing were different functions and Bonner’s breathing sounded strained. The coach was familiar with such injuries and he wasn’t going to write Bonner off for Saturday.
Bonner said he’d see his own doctor once he was home. He favored his right side as he walked. Tad Johnson stayed very close to him.
Bonner left for home once the bus returned to Grant. Coach Winger should have insisted on talking to his doctor, but he remained conflicted about his roll in Bonner’s game.
*****
The principal came down to the sidelines on Monday afternoon. Everyone had seen the hit that knocked Bonner out of the game. Once he was able to get up, he maintained he’d had the wind knocked out of him.
“Have you heard from Bonner, Winger?” The principal asked.
“No, he went to his doctor Saturday. I didn’t expect him today,” Coach Winger said. “We don’t really do much the Monday after games. If I don’t hear from him by tomorrow, I’ll call his house.”
“He wasn’t in any of his classes today,” the principal said. “I’d hate to think he won’t be playing in the championship game. We need that boy on the field.”
“He took a mean hit. He’ll be sore for a few days. If it was anything more serious than a bruise, he’d have called,” Coach Winger said. “The doctor told him to go home and rest until he’s feeling better. You’ll need to cut him some slack until after Saturday. He knows we’re playing for the championship. He won’t be sitting on the bench if I know Bonner.”
“He’ll play Saturday?” The principal asked. “I wouldn’t want him to play in a game if he’s not physically able, but we need him in that game, Winger.”
“I’ll know when I talk to him,” Coach Winger said. “He took a hard hit. If Bonner can play, he’ll play. Hell, he’ll try to play if he can’t play. The boy has no shortage of guts.”
“Keep me posted,” the principal said.
As if Coach Winger didn’t have enough on his mind, he’d become responsible for reassuring the principal that everything was going to be OK.
*****
Bonner showed up Tuesday afternoon. He didn’t attend any classes before coming out to practice. The only thing on his mind was football.
Coach Winger walked and talked to him on the opposite side of the field from where he had the team running drills. Tad Johnson jogged over to intercept them as they walked and talked about Saturday’s game.
“I’m OK,” Bonner said.
Coach Winger thought Johnson beamed when he came face to face with Bonner.
“You look OK. You going to play Saturday?” Johnson asked.
“Why wouldn’t I play?” Bonner asked. “I’m the quarterback.”
Talking to Bonner told Coach Winger nothing. Bonner intended to play and he intended to let him play, until he saw evidence that told him Bonner needed to come off the field. He’d deal with that when the time came.
He would devise a game plan to keep Duval’s defense away from Bonner. They’d keep the ball on the ground and ware Duval down in the first half. After that, he’d decide if Bonner could pass effectively or not and act accordingly.
Duval was not the football power Woodruff was. If the Grant Lions defense played up to expectations, they shouldn’t have a lot of trouble from Duval’s offense. With Bonner hurt nothing was for certain, but Grant should be able to run the ball once the offensive line wore down Duval’s defense for two quarters.
Bonner said he’d be OK. His doctor was going to get him a flack jacket from one of the local professional teams on loan. This would protect Bonner’s ribs in case of another hard hit, which Winger was sure the doctor advised against.
On Wednesday afternoon Bonner appeared wearing the flack jacket. He was moving better on Wednesday than he was on Tuesday. He threw two passes at the swinging tire while no one was watching him, but Coach Winger watched every move Bonner made. Besides those passes, Bonner limited himself to stretching exercises.
Bonner still didn’t mingle with the other players. He was in his own place, searching, stretching, seeing what his limitations might be.
The offense seemed willing to give Bonner plenty of room, except for Tad Johnson who walked and talked to Bonner late in the practice on Wednesday.
Bonner was aware that after one more game the dream would end for him. He had no doubt that Grant was better than Duval, but better teams lost to lesser teams all the time. His injury was a factor. If his team did what they were capable of doing, Grant would be league champions Saturday afternoon.
Even though Bonner didn’t mingle with his teammates, the mood on Grant’s practice field improved quite a bit once the players knew Bonner was there. This meant that all systems were go for Grant to field the team they’d been winning with all year. While no one mentioned playing for the championship, it was on every players mind.
It was on Bonner’s mind. Grant was playing good football. If they became league champions, they were going to attract a lot of attention. The game with Woodruff had been the only game Bonner wasn’t sure they’d win.
He’d be playing hurt Saturday. He’d do his best to play as well as he was able, but if he thought the offense would do better without him, he’d sit on the bench. It’s not how he’d envisioned it going, but playing starting quarterback was never a vision he had, until he was given the job.
Bonner knew he’d gone farther and risen higher than he’d ever imagined was possible. While a championship would be a fine way to cap off a successful season, he’d already done way more than he set out to do.
He could walk away happy and even proud without winning the league championship, but he’d love having the championship to throw in his brother’s faces when they gave him a hard time. His brothers were the reason he loved football and they were forever giving him a hard time.
Whatever happened Saturday, they’d be proud of him.
On Thursday Bonner ran the offense and he went through the motions. There was no equipment, no physical contact, no running. He took snaps and went through the motions of handing off. He never passed the ball down field.
The team was ready for Duval and what they needed to see is what Bonner showed them. He could move the way he was supposed to. It caused discomfort, but Bonner didn’t let on that he was still hurting. He wanted to play Saturday.
Coach Winger had been careful all week. Having an important player injured while practicing a few days before the biggest game in school history wouldn’t be smart. Risking any more damage to Bonner was out of the question.
Coach Winger watched Bonner move. He watched the way Bonner’s right elbow stayed flush against the flack jacket so it couldn’t bounce against his ribs.
The drills were motion drills. There was motion without any follow through. Coach Winger knew why Bonner didn’t pass the ball to Johnson a few times. No one questioned the lack of intensity in the drills.
Everyone’s mind was on the Duval game by then.
Bonner knew throwing passes was going to hurt. He’d save the passes he had left in his arm for the game. When he backed away from center and looked for Johnson down field in the game Saturday, that’s when he’d know if he’d already thrown his last completed pass in a football game.
That’s when Duval would find out if Bonner was too wounded to throw passes. Grant could win the game staying on the ground, but the championship game was a showcase for the more talented players on both teams.
College recruiters and coaches would be in the stands. They’d want to see how the boys they were interested in played under pressure. They wanted to see how boys they would recruit played in the biggest game of the season.
Johnson and Taylor were both heavily recruited and if Bonner couldn’t throw passes, his receivers wouldn’t be able to show off their talent and that would never do. Bonner needed to be able to throw passes.
Coach Winger smiled to himself when he’d thought that he was finally able to keep Bonner on the ground.
The principal came down to watch practice on Thursday. He’d been waiting to be told that Bonner was in school, even if he didn’t come until the afternoon.
Hearing Bonner was there eased the apprehension everyone at Grant shared that week.
“Can he play?” The principal asked.
“He seems determined to play. We won’t know if he can play, until he takes the field. I’ll try to limit him. I’ve had Scott taking snaps and handing the ball off to Carlos and Johnson. I’ll spell Bonner during the game. If he paces himself, and avoids a big hit, we should be OK.”
“I want this championship, Winger. Grant needs this championship. I just don’t want that boy seriously hurt in getting it,” the principal said.
“Duval knows Bonner took a hit he nearly didn’t get up from. They’ll be going after those ribs. The only chance they think they have is by putting Bonner out of the game,” Coach Winger said.
“You know this how?” The principal asked.
“It’s what I’d do under the same circumstances. Football is a rough game and part of it is knowing the weaknesses of your opposition. That’s where you attack,” Coach Winger said.
The principal processed what Coach Winger said. He didn’t have anything else to say. There was no hint of any controversy concerning Bonner. It didn’t necessarily remove his anxiety but it eased up some, and Coach Winger stayed away from his mailbox.
*****
Johnson wanted to meet Bonner after practice on Thursday, but Bonner wanted to go home to continue healing. Johnson wanted to win as badly as Bonner did, and he accepted that Bonner needed rest.
Friday was an even lighter day at practice. There were warmup exercises and some jogging. Boys sat on the football field and enjoyed a mild November day.
Coach Winger made no speeches and he didn’t tell his boys how important tomorrow’s game was.
He’d let his team do the talking on the field Saturday.
Coach Winger was ill at ease. He didn’t know which of his concerns about Saturday’s game bothered him most, but he said all he had to say to his boys.
Once practice ended on Friday, it was out of the coaches hands. It was up to the boys now. He told them everything he thought they needed to know. If they protected Bonner, they’d be in the driver’s seat. If they failed to protect Bonner, the game would be up for grabs.
There was another matter tickling the underside of Coach Winger’s worries. Something was lurking in the shadows and he couldn’t put his finger on what.
*****
There was no sign of trouble during the game on Saturday afternoon. The Grant fans were reserved. Everyone had an eye on Bonner. With his ribs taped and wearing a flack jacket under his jersey, Bonner took the field with the offense.
For two quarters the game remained scoreless. Grant kept the ball in Duval’s territory most of the first half.
It was Grant 0 and Duval 0 at halftime.
Bonner hadn’t thrown one pass. His offensive line played like junkyard dogs. They refused to allow entry into Grant’s backfield. It remained to be seen whether or not Grant could score against Duval’s defense by keeping the ball on the ground. Grant made no effort to score so far.
Bonner moving on and off the field was a relief to Grant’s fans. Bonner’s line holding back Duval’s defensive players gave the fans hope, but handing off to Scott, Carlos, Scott, but there were no scores. Duval spent the half defending against the run.
Everyone was sure that Bonner couldn’t pass the ball.
Since Bonner didn’t take any hits, it was a tradeoff that left the Grant fans hoping for better things in the second half. They were going to be disappointed right off.
At the start of the third quarter, Scott lined up to take snaps, handing off to Carlos and Johnson who lined up in the backfield. Sometimes Scott ran the ball himself.
Bonner sat alone and without motion on the Grant bench.
Johnson broke free for 12 and 8 yard runs in the third quarter. They stood alone as the only two Grant first downs. Duval did no better as Grant’s defense kept pushing them backward.
It ate up the clock and it kept Duval from getting anywhere close to a score, but the fans were growing restless.
From behind Grant’s bench fans began to chant.
“Bonner! Bonner! Bonner!”
For the most part it seemed to be ignored. Bonner sat with a warmup jacket over his shoulders and the game went on without him. So far it was played between the twenty yard lines.
As the third quarter was coming to an end, Duval punted yet again to Grant.
The chant continued.
“Bonner. Bonner. Bonner.”
Coach Winger decided to rest Bonner for the third quarter. He’d let Duval’s defense dash itself against Grant’s offensive line for a quarter longer.
He told that line, “Keep them out of the backfield.”
His boys refused to move. Duval became more and more determined to move them.
The coach smiled to himself toward the end of the third quarter. So far so good, he thought.
“Bonner, do some stretching. The fourth quarter is close.”
Grant fans pointed at Bonner doing exercises behind the Grant bench. A buzz went through the crowd as the time out was called before the fourth quarter started.
The score remained, Grant 0, Duval 0.
It was time for Coach Winger to see if his plan worked.
There were many facets to the plan. The first was already in play. The fans were getting excited over the prospect of Bonner returning to the game.
On the other side of the ball, Duval thought Bonner was out of the game for good. When Bonner returned to the field, Duval would be disappointed, because Bonner represented a real threat to break the game open.
Even with Bonner back in the game, if he kept on running the ball, he was far less dangerous, so Duval had to be fired up to stop the run. They were determined not to give Grant a lift by allowing them to move the ball.
Bonner gave his team a lift by being in the game.
“Bonner,” Coach Winger said. “How do you feel?”
“I’m fine, coach. I’m ready.”
“All those restrictions I put on you before the game?”
“Yeah, coach,” Bonner said smiling.
“Forget them. Go out there and play some Bonnerball.”
“OK, coach.”
“Whatever you need to do to beat these guys, do it. It’s your game now.”
“OK, coach.”
Not even Coach Winger knew if Bonner would be able to throw accurately. With Duval’s defense worn down and conditioned to expect the run, the pressure on Grant’s quarterback should be less intense. He’d have time to pass the ball, if he could pass the ball.
No one thought the game would end in a tie.
Bonner ran back onto the field to join the huddle at the beginning of the fourth quarter. Grant fans were elated. Duval fans, not so much.
Duval players were not overjoyed to see Bonner come back into the game, assuming he was done for the day.
Bonner knelt in the middle of the Grant huddle.
He yelled, “Go,” after calling the play.
On first down he took three steps backward, faked to Scott, and he handed the ball to Carlos who ran for three yards. They huddled and he called the second play of the fourth quarter, handing off to Scott who ran for five yards.
Now Duval knew what they needed to know. Bonner probably wasn’t able to accurately pass. They brought nine guys up on the line, leaving a man to cover Johnson and one to cover Taylor down field. Everyone else would concentrate on stopping Scott.
On third and two with everyone in the stadium thinking Scott would run on third and two, Bonner took the snap. He took three steps back. When Duval’s defense broke through Grant’s line, they went straight for Scott.
Bonner faked to Scott and once Duval was in the backfield, he stepped up and tossed the ball to Johnson on the left sideline. Johnson faked left, went right, and the defender fell down as Johnson ran down the sideline and into the end zone.
Shortly after putting the ball on the ground at his feet, a jubilant Bonner jumped into Tad’s arms. The team showed up a few seconds later to celebrate with their quarterback and star receiver.
Bonner could pass the ball.
, Grant fans went crazy. They screamed and yelled.
“Johnson. Johnson. Johnson.”
With the extra point being almost automatic by this point in the season, it was Grant 7, Duval 0.
Coach Winger walked with satisfaction behind the Grant bench. It was rewarding. His team had done everything he asked it to do. Now they were in a position to win the game.
There was little to say once Grant’s offense sat on the bench. With Grant’s defense on the field, the game was in good hands. Few offenses had scored many points against Grant’s defense. A solid defense was the hallmark of a team Coach Winger put together.
However, Duval’s offense knew they only needed one touchdown and the extra point to tie the game. Duval wasn’t in the championship game because they were a pushover and the Duval players still believed they could win.
As the clock ticked, Duval went about looking for a way to score a touchdown, but Grant was equally determined not to allow them to score.
Coach Winger stood behind where Bonner sat and he watched the combat. He knew anything could happen in a football game.
“You OK, Bonner,” the coach finally asked.
“I’m good. I’m glad that play worked. I don’t know if I can throw another pass, coach but I’m going to try. It would be nice if the defense holds Duval without a score though.”
“With luck they will and you won’t need to throw another pass, Bonner. I’ll use Scott to eat up the clock, once we get the ball back. One touchdown might be enough.”
Grant had the lead and their defense refused to give up a yard. It was three and out for Duval, and with the clock running, there were less than five minutes left when Duval was forced to punt the ball.
“I want to finish,” Bonner said. “With all those recruiters in the stands, I want to at least make an effort to send Johnson off with a little more to brag about.”
“You can’t be sure you won’t take a hit, Bonner. I think the game is won. We can run most of the time off the clock. Duval hasn’t done much offensively all day,” Winger said.
“I want to go in,” Bonner said, and he ran on the field once the punt was run back to Grant’s forty.
“I’m calling two plays,” Bonner said in the huddle. “I’ll hand off to Scott on the first play. Take it up the middle. Listen up, we can ice this game with no time left. I want the line to do what it did on the last pass. Let them in on the count of two. Johnson, go for the left sideline, and then cut to the middle of the field ten yards past the line of scrimmage. The ball will be there when you arrive, if I’m not flat on my back. Go!” Bonner yelled, breaking the huddle.
Bonner figured Duval expected him to pass the ball, so he ran Scott straight up the middle for twelve yards.
Duval was confused when Grant didn’t huddle between plays. Grant’s offensive line immediately came to the line of scrimmage and got set.
Duval had to scramble to get lined up in time. They went back to their run defense, thinking Bonner would run time off the clock.
Instead, Bonner threw the ball to Johnson and he galloped into the end zone. Bonner hoped to finish his football career with a flourish that gave Tad Johnson something to brag about.
Bonner was finally satisfied that he’d done enough.
Tad Johnson had never looked better scoring a touchdown. His team gang tackled him and they rolled in the end zone with the certainty of champions.
Bonner walked off the field once Johnson was over the goal line. He’d given it all he had and he was never more worn out than after that last pass.
“You going to be OK, Bonner?” Coach Winger asked.
“They are playing our song,” Coach Winger said.
“What do you mean?” Bonner asked.
“See the suits standing behind us with the state trooper?”
Bonner turned his head to see over his shoulder where four men in suits stood beside a very tall state trooper.
“Yeah,” Bonner said.
“The tallest suit. That’s the league president. Judson Hermann. The other two are league officials. The fourth guy I suspect is the league’s attorney. They aren’t standing there for their health,” the coach said.
Bonner turned to look again as Grant players came back to the bench. Grant had been assessed a five yard penalty for delay of game. Not everyone was celebrating Grant’s almost certain win.
“You OK,” Tad Johnson asked Bonner.
“I won’t be going dancing tonight, but I’m OK.”
“You boys stay on the bench. I’ll put in subs to run the clock to the two minute time out. Then Scott can run the offense. Just take a knee once the snap it made.”
Scott didn’t need to run the offense. Duval ran for two first downs and time ran out.
The final score was Grant 14 and Duval 0.
It was like no other game Grant played that season. With the flamboyant Bonner largely restricted, Grant did what they needed to do to win.
Grant didn’t play pretty football that day. They won anyway. Good teams find a way to win.
Coach Winger left the celebrating players once they came off the field at the end of the game.
He’d been called over to where the men in suits stood.
Not much was said before he walked over to Bonner.
“Our presence has been requested in the parking garage. There is something the league officials wish to speak to us about.”
As they left the bench, no one noticed. Pandemonium had broken loose as Grant fans stormed the bench and the players. There wasn’t anyone who didn’t have something to say.
The absence of the coach and the quarterback hadn’t been discovered yet, but it would be, and soon.
“What are they going to say?” Bonner asked.
“It’s anybody’s guess. I’m thinking it won’t be, ‘Nice game,’” Coach Winger said as the two walked shoulder to shoulder down the ramp and into the garage.
The men in suits and the state trooper who stood behind Grant’s bench, now stood at the bottom of the ramp.
“Coach Winger,” Judson Hermann said. “You know why we are here?”
“To congratulate me on finally winning the championship,” Coach Winger said happily.
“I’d have done that on the field,” Mr. Hermann said.
“Doesn’t matter to me where you say it. It’s just nice to win the big one.”
“It’s about your quarterback,” Mr. Hermann said.
“I’d rather you compliment me on the field,” Bonner said. “There’s an entire team that deserves your attention.”
“Yes, I’m sure you’re right. This is about the note you received the week of the Woodruff game,” he said.
“Note? Refresh my mind,” Coach Winger said. “It’s been a long season. A lot has happened.”
“You didn’t get a note telling you that your quarterback was an ineligible player?”
“Ineligible? Me?” Bonner asked.
“If it’s the note I think you’re talking about, Bonner and I got a rather big kick out of it. We laughed about it all week, but what does that have to do with this?” Coach Winger asked. “I understood someone was hoping to disrupt our preparations for Woodruff. If you noticed the results of the Woodruff game, it didn’t work. We won that one too, but being the sharp administrator you are, I bet you knew that.”
“Coach Winger, we regard this a serious matter. Your cavalier demeanor is reckless. I assure you we take the violation of league rules seriously.”
“As you should. Wait a minute, Jud, don’t tell me. Someone sent you a note too. Doesn’t that beat all. Some people never give up. I’m glad you didn’t fall for that load of crap. Now that we’re champions and will soon get the trophy to prove it, no one can deny Grant its day in the sun. Next they’ll be sending you a note saying I’m a chartreuse kangaroo, but you can plainly see, I’m not chartreuse.”
“So you did get the note. This isn’t over, Winger. We take those charges seriously,” Mr. Hermann said. “This is a serious matter we’re investigating. I expect both you and Bonner to be available when we call on you.”
“Yes, I can tell by where we’re holding this meeting how serious it is. Jud, if you are going to file a formal complaint, well, don’t ask me to come to the basement to get it. OK. File your complaint and I’ll answer your questions as best I can but my team has won the league championship and someone is going to begin wondering where I’ve gotten off to, not to mention Bonner.”
“We have reason to believe you may have played games with an ineligible player. Doesn’t it concern you?”
“Look at me,” Bonner said. “Do I look like a player who gives Grant an unfair advantage? No. The only advantage I have is that I’m good at what I do. I’m legally enrolled at Grant High. I’m seventeen. I have a physical that says I’m in good enough health to participate in athletics. My grades are excellent. Anything else is academic. That is what your investigation will reveal. Everything I’ve done is by the book. People who were interested in making sure I got to play football saw to it that we broke no rules.”
“What people?” Mr. Hermann asked.
“You conduct your investigation. You want to pursue what this anonymous note says, that’s on you. I did what I came to do and what you need to ask yourself is, do you want to force me to go public? If you do, I’m going to tell it all and you’re going to be left with a lot of questions to answer. You’ll need to explain how Grant managed to beat all the other teams in our division on the way to the championship. No one is going to believe I gave Grant an unfair advantage. That’s what you need to think about. I’m done here. I did what I came to do. The game is over.”
“What the hell is that?” Mr. Hermann asked as the garage begin to shake. “Go up and see what’s going on out there.”
The state trooper took long strides up the ramp. Before he returned voices could be heard in the underground structure.
A minute later the trooper reappeared and he came back to where the group stood.
“The people in the stands were stamping their feet. Once I started back down the ramp, they began yelling, “Bonner! Bonner! Bonner!”
Mr. Hermann looked at Bonner and then he looked at Coach Winger.
“You haven’t heard the last of this. There is going to be an investigation, Winger,” Mr. Hermann said.
At that instant there was a new chant wafting its way into the parking garage.
“Winger! Winger! Winger,” the crowd screamed and they began stomping their feet again.
“I’d like to stand here and chat, but our public is playing our song. Well, it’s been nice speaking with you. Bonner, let’s go give these people what they came for.”
Bonner walked with Coach Winger as they returned to the field for the trophy presentation.
The crowd roared when they saw both Bonner and Coach Winger walking toward midfield. Only the Grant fans hung around to see the presentation of the trophy.
It had been a remarkable season.
Epilogue
“Tad, Bonner.”
“Bonner, where the hell have you been? I’ve been worried sick about you. Where are you?” Tad asked. “I thought you’d been kidnapped. Coach Winger told me to stop worrying. You were fine.”
“I’m at our favorite ice cream shop and I was thinking about you.” Bonner said.
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Don’t go anywhere.”
*****
Bonner had no intention of going anywhere.
Bonner went back to where his family lived twenty miles away. He’d waited for his trail to go cold before he called Tad.
His final day at Grant High School, he went to Coach Winger’s office, after he received a note telling him to do so in sixth period.
“Hermann is requesting that we both go to league headquarters this afternoon. I don’t know about you, but it is a meeting I’m not looking forward to. I think it is a meeting you best avoid if you aren’t prepared to end up the news of the day tomorrow, Bonner.
“I’ve been expecting it Bonner said. I thought all along that I’d probably end up get a GED if I went through with this. There’s no point in dragging you or Grant through the mud trying to justify what I did. To tell the truth I’m tired and I wouldn’t mind going back home, coach.”
“Your papers are in order. Without you being present, there is no evidence of any wrong doing. I guess it’s the easy way out, but I’ve yet to see you do anything the easy way, Bonner,” Coach Winger said. “As for me, I can live with what we’ve done and never talk about it to another soul. Although I suspect there will come a time when you are ready to talk about it. Then, when they ask me, I’ll say that you were a damn good quarterback, and I’ll stand up and say that to anyone who asks me. I’d just as soon not explain it to league officials today. I’d like to keep my job.”
Bonner stood and reached across the coaches desk.
“We made history together, coach. I know it and you know. That’s good enough for now. One day I’ll probably want to tell the story, but not yet. I’m too young to spend the rest of my life answering questions about winning a football championship when I was seventeen. Maybe I’ll look you up sometime, coach.”
“I’d like that,” Coach Winger said, walking Bonner to the door.
The coach watched Bonner walk down the hall and disappear. It was the last that was ever seen of Bonner at Grant High School.
The truth about what he did was larger than anything he could have imagine before he went to see if he could make the Grant High School football team.
*****
Some years later in a house far from Grant High School.
“Hey, love, brought you your favorites. Rocky Road and Chocolate Almond Marshmallow ice cream,” Tad said, closing the door behind him as he came into the kitchen..
Tad and Bonnie kissed whenever they were away from each other for more than five minutes. Little Tad giggled because of his parent’s affection.
Tad lifted his son and shifted him around behind his neck and up to his other shoulder, setting him on the floor next to his mom’s chair. This always got little Tad laughing and it tickled his father too.
“Again, again, Daddy,” little Tad said, and his father lifted him up to do it all over again.
They were both giggling and Bonnie smiled at her men.
The little boy giggled delighted with the attention.
“Dinner will be on the table in ten minutes,” Bonnie said. “Tad needs to wash his face and hands before dinner.”
“Scoot, kiddo, or your mommy might make you wash behind your ears,” his father said. “I’ll get the ice cream in the freezer for later.”
“Daddy, Daddy, mommy told me that you caught two touchdowns in your high school’s championship game. You scored two touchdowns? Your team won?” little Tad said excitedly.
“Yes, I did. Not much to tell. We beat Duval 14-0. I caught not one but two touchdown passes that day.”
“Wow! My father is a football hero,” Tad said.
At eight years old Tad was old enough to watch football with his father on Sunday afternoon. His father was busy explaining the game to him. He’d figured out baseball by that time, but football was still confusing to him. There was a lot going on at the same time.
“OK, squirt, go wash your hands and get ready for dinner,” his father said.
Little Tad scurried away to follow orders and Tad senior helped his very pregnant wife up out of the chair.
“How’s the baby today, Bonnie?” Tad asked.
“Busy. George is going to be a kicker, Tad. No doubt about it.”
Tad laughed. The baby had been very active. They held hands and Tad smiled at his wife.
Happiness for them was being together with their son.
“Hey, Bonner, when are you going to tell your son that his mother was the quarterback who threw his daddy those game winning passes?”
Bonnie laughed loudly.
The memory of those days were fresh in her mind.
From my writer’s desk:
Bonner was biologically a woman. Was she a woman who loved football and jumped at a chance to play the game that only boys get to play, or might Bonner be trans?
Does it matter?
Women fought and died in the Revolutionary War. Were these trans men of the day? Women also fought and died in the United States Civil War. Could they have been the trans men of the day, or were they women, every bit as determined as men to contribute to the war effort?
Does that matter?
In Europe women have always been part of the vanguard fighting in wars against dictators and tyrants.
Joan of Arc was one of these. Men burned her alive.
Men have limited the power of women in the U.S. for most of its history. They denied women the vote until 1919, when women took to the streets to demand it.
Fifty years ago it was illegal to be LGBTQ. The word homosexual covered everyone with any queer notions.
The same men who counted black men as three fifths of a person, also wrote, “All men are created equal.”
It should read, ‘All white men are created more equal,’ women, queers, Native peoples, not so much. Asians got a law of their own to deny them citizenship.
Why do the straight old white men in power hate so many people who are America?
The party dominated by old white men has made life miserable for our trans brothers and sisters. Trans citizens are treated like homosexuals were treated fifty years ago. Can you imagine the courage it takes to come out as trans? Trans women are murdered at an alarming rate.
Fifty years ago this past June, trans women decided that they’d had enough of police brutality. When the police came to arrest them, they fought back. These people were fighting for their lives. There were fires, overturned cars, and many injuries, but in the end the trans women and drag queens won out.
After the battle known as the Stonewall riots, the modern gay movement(MGM) was underway.
When we stand together as one, we become as strong as, if not stronger than, the old white men in power.
We need to advocate for equal rights for everyone.
Peace & Love,
Rick Beck