It had that special feeling. After 6 years of coming to games at my kids school more or less because I felt "obligated", I found myself really wanting to go to one of their games last evening. The kids school, Ft Lauderdale American Heritage, was playing host to Hollywood Chaminade. Make that, BIG BAD Chaminade. A team that was so highly thought of coming into this season that they played a game in TEXAS.
Teams don't travel out of state unless they're loading up a heck of a football team.
So I drove with my wife to the game as the Heritage Patriots, holders of an 8-0 record and ranked #2 in the state (that's right, #2!) faced off with the Chaminade Lions, who were ranked #3 in the state for the district title. Both teams had already qualified for the state playoffs, so this one was all about winning district and getting some respect. My wife, apparently quite correctly, had wanted to get to the game early so that we could watch our kids play in the band before the game started.
That's not quite as emotional as having your kid be the starting QB, but what can I say? I knew something was amiss when I went to turn into the parking lot where I've parked my car for every other game. Closed.
"Why in the heck would they close the lot tonight?" I asked the wife.
"I don't think its closed," she answered, "I think its full."
"Full? The game doesn't start for another 45 minutes."
So we parked across the street and made our way into the stadium, dutifully paying our $5 admission fee and looking for the best seat available. We made our way to the top of the grandstands, around the 25 yard line (I'm used to sitting at about the 40--I hate having my routine interrupted). We're watching the warmups, and the first thing that strikes me is that the Lions have some absolute monsters. There have been "whispers", and only "whispers" mind you, that the coach for the Lions "recruits" players to come play for his school (both Heritage and Chaminade being private schools of course). If he doesn't recruit, it sure looks like he does, because some of the kids look like they should be in junior college at the very least.
The crowd begins to pour into the stadium. I use the word "stadium" in the broadest sense of the word, because it seats maybe 1500 people. Usually. Tonight though, its going to be different. There's a line to get into the stadium. A very long line.
The game begins and the Lions roll down the field like Sherman heading for Atlanta and score on a very nice touchdown pass. Its encouraging when directly after the Patriots go down the field themselves and tie the game up on a touchdown run.
7-7.
There is still a line of people waiting to get into the stadium. Its unbelieveable. I notice that on one of the buildings next to stadium someone is sitting in a lawn chair.
The stadium seats are full. People are lining the field, trying to get a glimpse of the game. This has never happened at Heritage. This only happens....in big games.
The 2nd quarter sees the Lions begin another long drive that culminates with another Lions touchdown. The Patriots drive the field, but are stopped on 4th down and turn the ball over to the Lions. I warn the wife that Heritage does not want to get down by 2 touchdowns to Chaminade. The Lions head down the field but are ultimately kept off the scoreboard by the Heritage defense.
14-7 Chaminade, at the half.
Its homecoming game at Heritage and the various candidate walk onto the field.
I tell my wife that there might be one sure bet that evening. Back from the lockerroom comes Heritage fullback Andy Hartman. Andy is the senior fullback for the football team and has played the entire season with a heavy heart. The week before school starts his mother is killed in a car accident. A 17 year old loses his mother the week before his final year of high school. I told my wife that if Andy Hartman was one of the finalists for Homecoming king, there is no way he does not win. Its a sure bet. The crowd wants it to happen. They want to cheer the kid, to let him know their with him. The moment arrives.
"Your choice," the stadium announcer says over the loudspeaker, "for 2005 Homecoming King is.....Andy Hartman!"
The crowd errupts. The crown is placed upon his head. He is the King, if for tonight only. We look at the sea of humanity surrounding the stadium. My wife and I figure that there might be 3,000 people there, watching Big Game America. Here at little old American Heritage. It has arrived.
The 3rd quarter gets underway. The game, which I initially thought was going to be a high scoring shootout, with perhaps the team having the ball last wins ends up turning into a defensive slugfest. The Patriots, the smaller and perhaps less talented team, is standing toe to toe with Chaminade.
14-7, end of the 3rd quarter.
The 4th quarter begins. The game, which started with a lot of trashtalking and borderline cheapshots, has evolved into a hardhitting, cleanly played game. Chaminade has brought a large contingent of fans, the most of any opposing team so far this season. Its good stuff. The game continues to ebb and flow. Chaminade has the ball and is marching down the field. I tell my wife that time is becoming a factor. Heritage's coach is conservative in his approach. Wait, make that VERY conservative. Heritage has the type of offense that does not pass the ball very often.
They're going to need time when (or IF) they get the ball back. There's around 3 minutes left and its 4th and 3. This might be the ball game. A sweep to the right side of the field and Chaminade converts for a first down.
"That's it," I say to my wife. "Their done."
"Not so fast," a guy in front of me says, "there's still time."
"There is no way that with an offense like Heritage has their driving the field in 2 minutes. They needed to get the ball back right then."
The defense for Heritage then rises up. Three straight tackles for a loss and an incomplete pass on 4th down give Heritage the ball back on their own 25 yard line.
The Patriots start with a reverse that goes for almost 20 yards. Just under 2 minutes.
The QB drops back and completes his 2nd pass. Of the entire game. This one goes for 30 yards and now Heritage is inside the 20. I turn to my wife:
"NOW they can run the ball."
A couple of running plays and the ball is down to the 5 yard line. A motion penalty pushes them back to the 10 yard line. About a minute and 10 seconds remain.
Timeout.
"Ya know," I say to my wife, "this is some good stuff. If they score, they have to go for two points."
"You don't kick the extra point?" a guy in front of me asks."
"Not me. This is their home field. You play for the win. If the game was at Chaminade I'd go for the tie. At home, you play to win."
My wife points down the bleachers. A woman is knitting in the stands. This is a big game....for almost everyone. Knitting? I told my wife that I might have had to kill her if she ever did something like that at a football game. She joins me in shaking our heads in disgust at the woman. I have a good wife.
Now with only a minute and 10 seconds left the conservative coach for Heritage makes a bold call. Chaminade comes in an all out blitz and the screen pass left is wide open. Wide open for Andy Hartman, the homecoming king.
The Heritage coach makes another bold call. He decides to go for the win.
My wife asks me what play they should run.
"You give the ball to the homecoming king like you have all season and you let him win the game for you. Its the only call he can make."
One minute left. 14-13. Heritage is going for two points and the district title.
The ball is snapped.
Its handed to Andy Hartman. The Homecoming King.
He dives. He's hit and keeps driving. He hits the ground.
One yard short.
The Chaminade players and fans errupt. An onside kick fails, the clock is run out and the Lions celebrate the win and the district title. 3,000 fans all stand and applaud both teams.
It was the type of a play and a moment that young men dream about. Who hasn't been in their backyard and wondered about such a moment? A minute left in the game, the ball is given to you, your hit...and you keep going and score the winning touchdown. No one ever dreams about getting stopped a yard short. Not when your the Homecoming King. Not when you've played the whole season after losing your mother a week before it started. But I'll bet that in his backyard, Andy Hartman scored that touchdown. And in that backyard, where his only opponent is his imagination, while he's holding that ball above his head, he hears his mother cheering for him.
Later,
Jeff
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment