Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Chris Cline, September 2016

I tell ‘em all to hail King Kendrick, resurrecting my vengeance … Been dissecting your motormouth until I break down the engine …

Chris bobbed his head up and down in time with the music, both nervous and excited. The lyrics of Kendrick Lamar flooded his ear drums. As the song drew to a close, he popped up aggressively from his seat in the locker room. Filled with adrenaline, he gave two light punches to the locker door, grabbed his helmet from the top shelf and emphatically slammed the door shut.

Walking out onto the field always gave him such a rush. The lights around the field illuminated two crowds, each cheering for their respective schools as they took their places on the sideline. Chris scanned the visitor stands and spotted his parents, who he flashed a broad grin and a wave. They smiled back, his mother a bit more nervously than his father. Next, he found Melissa, standing at the front of the cheerleading squad, wearing an over exaggerated, staged looking smile. She blew him a kiss before taking the reins with her fellow captains on the night’s first cheer.

The Coatesville game was always a difficult, physical battle because the two teams were such intense rivals. A year ago, West Chester North had upset the Raiders in the opening round of the state playoffs, a game that the losing squad had clearly not forgotten.  As Chris walked to midfield, he could not help but notice a rather hostile crowd had assembled at Coatesville Senior High School. There were jeers and boos resonating throughout the stadium as he prepared for the coin toss. A couple students were waving handmade signs from their seats and sneering. One, written in red and black markers, read “Ohio State Suck-Eye”. He grinned to himself. This should be fun.

Earlier in the week, the local paper had reported that Chris had verbally committed to play football for Ohio State in the fall of 2017. The news spread like wildfire throughout the community and his already extensive notoriety doubled. On Wednesday, a sophomore had asked for Chris’s autograph while sitting in the neighboring bathroom stall. Although flattering, the additional attention clearly had some drawbacks.

“Well, if it isn’t THE Chris Cline. Are you gonna be able to fit your helmet on that giant head?” The taunt came from Coatesville’s star linebacker Matt Clayton who was standing in the middle of the Raiders’ three team captains. Chris, Ernie and Jacob stood opposite for North.

“Honestly, I’m really more worried about how well my neck is going to be able to support my giant head.” Chris replied in a voice of mock anxiety. “Thoughts, Ernie?”

“I think the biggest concern is just your balance in general. With a head that big, your center of gravity is going to be seriously skewed.”

“Good point; I’m violating all the perfect symmetries of evolution.”

The Coatesville players looked at each other in confusion before Clayton was able to collect himself for a response. “We’ll see if you guys are still smiling after we pound your faces in.”

Before either side could continue, the referee stepped in to perform the coin toss. Coatesville successfully selected heads and chose to kick the ball in the first half. Therefore, they would receive the ball to start the second. Their captains turned back to the sidelines, flashing one final menacing glance at the opponents before pulling on their helmets and jogging off the field.

“Serious question,” Ernie muttered to Chris, “Would it even be physically possible to smile if our faces were pounded in?”

Coatesville kicked the ball away deep and, after a modest return, Chris led the offense out on to the field to begin their first drive at the thirty-two yard line. Coatesville lined up opposite, wearing dark black uniforms, complimented with a simple red “C”. They stood in sharp contrast to West Chester, who was wearing white uniforms with a large, maroon “N” on the front. On the back, where professional players would have their last name, Coatesville sported “Raiders” and North, “Warriors”.

The atmosphere was electric. Both sidelines were energized and excited, players practically skipping onto the field. The fans were already on their feet, cheering loudly for their schools. As he moved under center for the game’s first snap, Chris could hear a stream of taunts from the enemy student section. The boy with the “Suck-Eye” sign was facing his peers, raising his arms to try to incite more noise.

The first play was a run: Chris turned from the center and handed the ball to running back Pete Washington, who scampered through the offensive line for a three-yard gain. The sideline crew adjusted the chains that marked the line of scrimmage accordingly and soon West Chester was lined up for the next play. Again, Chris took the snap and, again he handed the ball to Washington, but this time the defense was prepared. Coatesville’s right defensive end stormed off the edge and crushed Pete with a furious tackle. North’s running back was a little slow to get back to the huddle after the play.

On third down, West Chester called their first pass of the game. Cline dropped back to throw, stepped up in the pocket and fired to his sophomore receiver Corey Watts on a slant route. It was a perfect pass. Corey reached out and grabbed it as he streaked across the middle. But as he turned to run up field, Matthew Clayton came flying in to make the tackle, laying another powerful hit onto the Warrior’s offense. On impact, the ball fell from Watts’s hands and landed incomplete on the ground. Frustrated, the North offense trotted off the field to be replaced by the punting unit.

After a defensive stop, the West Chester offense was back on the field, starting with good field position right around midfield. On this drive, Chris came out firing, completing his first pass to Ernie on a short five yard out route. Then, they tried a running play, but as Washington received the carry, he slowed, timidly hitting the hole and was subsequently pulverized by the Coatesville defense. That left the squad in another third and long situation.         

The Warriors lined up in a three-wide receiver set. Ernie was split out to the far left with a pair of Coatesville defensive backs in position to cover him. Dropping back to pass, Cline spotted Watts about to break open across the middle. He fired the football to his receiver, but he was unable to bring in the pass, taking his eyes of the ball to watch for Clayton prowling in the center of the field. We’re playing scared, Chris thought as he was held yet again to a scoreless drive, Those hard hits got in our heads.

As intimidating as the Coatesville linebackers were playing, the fanatical home crowd had been just as effective. They increased in volume with every incompletion.  The cheering further intensified after Coatesville’s running back Kevin Shank broke into the open field and ran for a fifty-yard gain. A short screen pass and two more impressive runs helped cap the drive with the game’s first touchdown. As Cline and the rest of his offense took the field for a third time, chants of “Overrated” were beginning in the Coatesville student section.

“Alright Cline, let’s run a pitch to the left,” Coach Groff said as Chris stood at his side, receiving the play call. He nodded his response stoically. Another running play? They’re killing us out there. Yet he took the field and relayed the play to the huddle, doing his best to sound confident and upbeat for the sake of his team. Pete seemed to recoil as he was told he would have to carry the ball again.

At the snap, Coatesville once again penetrated the offensive line and walloped the running back for a loss of yards. Promptly, the crowd exploded with noise. In the huddle, Chris had trouble speaking over the cheering: it was unclear whether a few players even understood what play he was calling. They moved into position, filing up to the line of scrimmage. Again the snap came from the center, and this time Chris dropped back in the pocket to throw. A few of his receivers appeared to have expected a run play and neglected to run their routes. Chris rolled left to buy himself a bit of time. Fortunately, he saw Ernie dropping into a gap in the coverage and pump-faked the ball in his direction. The defending cornerback bit hard on the fake and, behind him, Ernie began streaking up field. Taking a step up, he launched the football, sending it spiraling through the air, and dropping perfectly into the outstretched arms of his receiver.

Atta boy, Ernie! The Coatesville crowd’s enthusiasm morphed to a groan of anguish as the small contingent of West Chester North supporters finally had an opportunity to celebrate. At last, they had some momentum, and Chris knew they needed to capitalize. After a short run up the middle on first down, Chris threw a strike to his tight end, Rob Shannon, to pick up yet another first down and move the team within striking distance of the end zone.

He trotted back to the sideline to pick up the next set of play calls. To his frustration, Groff instructed him to hand off the football. The first run resulted in a small gain, but the second may have completely negated it as Washington was hit hard again after another weak attempt to hit the hole. That meant it would be third down and nine yards remaining between West Chester and a game tying score.

“No chances here Cline. Hand it off to Washington and let’s make sure we get at least three,” came the newest orders from Groff. Chris could not hide a look of surprise, even from beneath his helmet. “If there’s a problem with that,” he continued menacingly, noticing his quarterback’s expression, “I’m sure McDermott would be happy to take your place.” The team’s back-up quarterback, sophomore Drew McDermott, whipped his head around at the mention of his name. He had been absentmindedly picking his nose and peering over at the cheerleading squad behind him.

“No problem, Coach,” Chris said solemnly and he jogged back to his waiting teammates.

It was a draw play up the middle and Pete Washington took the ball and followed the blocking from his lineman Mintz. There was a slight running lane, but one of the Coatesville linebackers was approaching quickly. In fear, Pete tried to turn back to his right, but instead smacked into another blocker. On impact, the football slipped from his grip and fell to the turf.

Keeping a cool head, Chris swooped in and picked up the ball, dashing his way towards the far outside of the field. There was confusion from both teams as few had even noticed the football had changed hands. Let alone that Chris was now sprinting in the opposite direction that Washington had been moving. He juked back to his left to dodge the first defender and kept his feet moving, eyes focused on the end line. As the Coatesville safety approached and dived towards his body, Chris extended his right hand and pushed back on the defender’s helmet, giving himself enough space to continue to run free. There was just one runner to beat now as Matthew Clayton was sprinting after him at full speed.

The two locked eyes and Chris could see his opponents’ anger and determination. They were on course to meet right on the edge of the goal line, but it was unclear if Chris could break the plane before being tackled. As they approached one another, he saw Clayton begin to launch into a dive and, in an instant, Chris came to a dead stop, letting his opponent fly in front of him, before taking a hard step and jumping into the end zone.

     

“Half time drawing to a close at Coatesville High School with the score tied at seven!” The amplified voice of the announcer reverberated around the stadium as Chris and his teammates jogged back onto the field to begin the second half of action. It had been an ugly first half of play, highlighted by physical defense from both sides. As a result, things were getting a bit chippy between the two teams.  

The animosity only increased on the opening kickoff. After a soaring kick by West Chester, Jacob Naughton laid a powerful tackle on Coatesville’s return man at the twenty-five yard line. Afterwards, the ball carrier had to be helped off the field by one of his teammates, drawing a roar from the unhappy home fans, who were crying for a penalty flag. On the ensuing possession, Coatesville sought revenge. Chris rolled out to his left side and threw a short pass to his tight end Shannon. Approaching wildly, linebacker Matthew Clayton dived hard at the legs of the pass catcher, tackling him violently and twisting his trail leg at a gruesome angle. Unable to put any sort of weight on it, Shannon was helped off the field and, after receiving brief medical inspection, was driven to the nearest hospital for treatment.

Although both sides were fired up, the defenses were trying so hard to crush their opponents that they were overcommitting to every fake and trick play. As a result, each offense was able to take advantage. Coatesville ran an excellent screen play to Shank and followed it with a play action pass that put the team into the red zone. Then Coatesville’s quarterback punched in a score on his second of two consecutive sneaks. West Chester North responded quickly, capitalizing on a wide receiver reverse play to Ernie Tyrrell and continuing the drive with a series of sharp passes from Cline. However, once inside the five yard line, North handed the ball three straight times to their running back, failing to score on each occasion.

“What the heck is he thinking?” Ernie muttered to Chris as their kicker cut Coatesville’s lead from seven to four, “We’ve got the best quarterback in the Ches-mont, why aren’t we using him?”

“Whatever-it doesn’t matter,” Chris lied. “We have to trust Coach.” Ernie shook his head, but remained silent. Chris looked down the sideline at Coach Groff as the defense trudged back onto the field.  But seriously, what the heck is he thinking …

As the game continued, there were more causalities of the increased physicality. Referees were trying desperately to maintain order, increasing penalty flags and warning both sidelines, but tensions continued to mount. Each team was losing players due to various injuries and parents on both sides were beginning to get uneasy. After Chris took a brutal late hit on a third down, he looked up into the crowd to see his father cradling his mother, whose face was hidden behind her hands.

“You good, Chris?” Ernie asked, extending a hand to his fallen teammate.

“We got 15 yards right? I’m down right ecstatic!” He said sarcastically, grimacing as his receiver pulled him to his feet.

When the team regrouped in their huddle, they looked tired and downtrodden. Many of the players were limping or wincing into position. What was once a crowd of pure white jerseys, was now specked with green and brown. Chris glanced quickly at the scoreboard before relaying the next play to his team. There were just four minutes remaining in the fourth quarter, meaning this drive might be their last. The score remained 14 to 10 in favor of Coatesville.

Chris looked around the circle of teammates, finding many scared faces among the crowd. They need a leader right now. They need to hear something inspiring. Let ‘em know we can win this. He searched himself for the confidence to speak, but his attempt at a pump-up speech died in his throat. “Let’s …um … Let’s run the left option sprint on two,” he said, “Ready, break!”

The offense moved into position and Chris calmly moved under center. On the snap, he sprinted to his left, Washington trailing behind him. He extended the ball as if preparing to pitch it, before pulling it back into his body. With a sharp cut, he followed his blocking and rushed the ball up field for another first down. The visiting crowd cheered as the ball was marked just outside the twenty-yard line.

Again, Chris ushered his teammates up to the line, glancing again to check the seconds ticking off the clock. Ernie ran behind him in motion from left to the right. From a shotgun position, he caught the snap from his center. It was a bit low, but he managed to regroup as the play began to take form. His receivers crossed over the middle and as Ernie broke free, Chris unleashed a pass in his direction. The ball soared on him slightly, flying over the outstretched arms of the defensive linemen. Ernie jumped up and extended his arms over his head to try for a spectacular catch, but he barely got his fingers to the ball. His tip adjusted the flight path: the ball was spiraling off to his right, falling behind his reach.

And the ricochet sent the football perfectly into the waiting arms of the Coatesville secondary.

GO TO CHAPTER NINE