they didn’t know. The other players at the camp had no idea what had gotten into the Lyle guys, but as Coach Henry announced the winner for the day no one was surprised.
“Our first place team is Lyle High.” His gruff disposition was gone, and a mix of humor and bewilderment filled his voice. “Not sure if maybe you Lyle boys got things mixed up … this isn’t the state play-offs.”
A round of lighthearted laughter came from the players — even the Buckaroos. Marcos Brown walked to the front of the group to accept the Sunday trophy. He held it up and there was no mistaking the glimmer in his eyes. Marcos was fighting back tears. Cody understood why. Lyle wasn’t a wealthy town … none of the football players had ever made that much money … or even imagined it. But together they had done what might’ve felt impossible just twenty-four hours earlier. They’d raised three-thousand dollars for a sick little girl, the sister of a football player they didn’t even know.
That night, when the celebrating had let up, Cody told them their next assignment. “There’s a guy on that team, his house burned down. Family lost everything.” This time it was Terry Allen who briefly hung his head. But he looked up quickly, intent about the task at hand. “Habitat for Humanity is going to rebuild their house … but they need money for supplies. Three-thousand dollars, men. That’s what it will take to get them started, to make sure this football player and his family have a roof over their heads as winter hits in a few months.”
This time the guys rounded up more quickly, and their voices rang with a pride that hadn’t been there the day before. Because now they knew they were capable, and the same was true the next day as they intensified their efforts for every drill, every session. “A roof for the winter … come on, men,” Cody yelled a few times throughout the day. “One … two … three …” “Three thousand!”
No one was surprised when Lyle again took the Monday trophy, and so the pattern was set. Tuesday and Wednesday they played for the family of a football player who needed three-thousand dollars to make back payments and keep their house from being taken away. “They can be homeless, or they can keep their houses.” Cody kept finding new levels of passion for the work at hand. “It’s up to you, men!”
The Lyle team worked harder. Tuesday’s trophy and Wednesday’s trophy, and on Thursday they won the money for a kid whose mom was in prison, a kid with no clothes, and no way to take the weekly trip to visit his mother behind bars. “Bus money so a football player on this team can talk to his mom once a week!” Cody allowed the incredulousness to slip into his tone. “Can you imagine that? Not having your mom there when you get home from school? We can do this, men … we can.”
By the time Friday rolled around, the guys were thicker than brothers. Not only because they’d found new levels of effort and because they’d won a combined fifteen-thousand dollars for the families of a bunch of football players they didn’t know. But because other teams were rising to the challenge, doubling their efforts, doing whatever they could to take the last day’s trophy away from Lyle. This time the prize money would go to counseling for a handful of players whose grades were too low to get them into college.
“These are guys who have no chance without a college education … and no chance at college unless they get some help.” Cody paced in front of the guys that morning before stretching drills. “Someday you might find yourself getting a home loan or a doctor’s appointment, and the guy helping you will be standing there — not homeless on a bench somewhere — because of what you men do today.” He was talking loud, underlining the importance of their efforts. “Do you understand? How important this is?”
“Yes, sir!” Their answer was crisp and bellowing, in complete unison.
“Okay …” Cody stifled the smile bursting through him. “One … two … three …” “Three thousand!”
That day the competition was closer than it had been all week, and what Cody saw made him and the other coaches watch in silent awe. The guys pushed each other on, refusing to let one of them lag behind. “Come on,” DeMetri shouted