smiling had to mean her life was going well.
Cody sighed and tried once more to focus on the playbook. Cheyenne had looked over it with him last night, and they both laughed at the way she tried to interpret the X’s and O’s. “Okay,” she finally admitted, “I give up. It looks like a tic-tac-toe game.”
Sweet girl, Cody told himself. Wonderful girl. Cody gathered his thoughts and ordered them safely to the back of his mind. If he was going to help his team take care of business tonight against John Marshall, he needed to focus. And with an hour before the team arrived, there wasn’t a minute to lose.
The time passed quickly, and in a rush of activity the team arrived and dressed down in their uniforms, taping ankles and adjusting shoulder pads, their voices a chorus of anxious nervous energy and absolute determination that tonight the league title would be theirs to take.
Cody gathered them twenty minutes before kickoff. “You’ve risen to the challenge … you’ve done what we set out to do that first day at spring practice. You’ve played Lyle football His way … God’s way.” Cody didn’t want the season to end. He’d loved these guys, their struggles and foibles and miracles and mishaps. The few who had been drinking had sworn off partying, and Arnie Hurley’s girlfriend found out she wasn’t pregnant, and the two of them broke up when she wouldn’t adapt to the cleaner life Arnie wanted. Yes, Cody’s players had listened and believed him. And along the way they had allowed Cody to lead them in faith through the most unlikely football season of all.
Not an eye in the room wasn’t full of intensity and passion as they came together, their fists raised in the center of their huddle this one last time before the regular season came to an end. “One more time, men … you’re going to go out there and take care of business one more time.” He raised his voice. “Whose way?”
“His way!”
“Whose way?”
“His way!” The sound grew and filled the locker room. “Whose way?”
“His way!” The guys shouted and bellowed their approval, their belief in the common purpose between them.
“Okay, men … league title on three.” He hesitated, feeling the echo of their battle cry deep in his heart and soul. “One … two … three …”
“League title!”
With that Cody and his assistant coaches jogged out to the field behind a stampede of Lyle football players. As he reached the edge of the field, Cody almost stopped mid-step. If he’d thought the place was packed before, it was half empty compared to the people who had flocked to the field tonight. Before he could go another yard, a man jogged up to him and motioned for him to stop.
“Coach … I’m Hans Tesselaar … reporter with Sports Illustrated.” He grinned. “I had to see this one for myself.”
“Great,” he shook the man’s hand. Of all the writers at SI, Hans wrote the best stories. He had a way of mixing real life with lore and leaving a person deeply moved by the power of competition and the bond of teamwork. “You can follow me over to the bench. Hang out on the sidelines. Then we can talk afterwards, if that’s okay.”
“Perfect.” Hans was younger than Cody expected … in his midforties maybe with a kind smile. Cody had a feeling the guy would be blown away by tonight’s game. Not just his team’s performance, but the presentation that would happen at halftime. Yes, this was the perfect game for the reporter to attend. Now it was a matter of getting down to business and winning it. Cody hurried the rest of the way to his team’s bench, organized his clipboard, and reviewed his plays once more. Then — with the roar of the crowd behind them — John Marshall kicked off.
Cody called in a play for DeMetri, a fake pass that if done right could open the game with a touchdown. He crouched low over his knees, his eyes on the team. “Come on, Smitty … you do this … you got this …”
The snap was good, Arnie reeled back like he was going to throw to one of his wideout receivers, but in a blur of motion DeMetri took the ball and sprinted for daylight. Cody and the rest of the team ran along the sidelines, cheering him on. As the Buckaroos took a seven-zero lead, Cody exchanged a quick grin with the Sports Illustrated