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From: "Rev. Cotton Mather" <RevCottonMather@excite.able.boy.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Playing the Game  21/30 (mf rom)
Date: Fri, 21 Dec 2001 20:10:07 -0500
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Welcome to the Church of The Reverend Cotton Mather. This
story is the sole property of the author, and may not be copied or
downloaded for the intent of profit. Permission is freely given for
anyone to download or copy for their personal pleasure or use, as
long as there is no intent to charge money or barter for the
privilege of acquiring this material.

(copyright 2001, Rev. Cotton Mather)

E-Mail all comments to RevCottonMather@excite.com
Don't be shy!  I enjoy hearing from you.

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PLAYING THE GAME
by Reverend Cotton Mather




- 21 -

THE LONGEST DAY OF SCHOOL EVER



On Monday morning, the teams assembled in the gymnasium before
school.  Coach Neville stood in front of us, looking tired and worn.

"You know, of course, what has happened," he began.  "I do have more
information now, and the news is not good.  As many of you know, the
accident was a hit-and-run.  The police have now found the car that
pushed Theo's car off the road and into the tree.  Unfortunately, it
belongs to another student here at the high school, Richard Del Toro."

That set up quite a buzzing in the room.

"Apparently, he and three of his friends were out joyriding, and for
some reason they ran Theo and Skip off the road.  Richard has been
arrested and his car impounded, and they're still looking for Harold
Barnes and Vincent Arilio, two of the boys who were in the car with
him.  The fourth young man, Joey Amonte, is also being held in jail
on pending charges."

Harold, Joey and Vinnie were all members of Del Toro's Bulls.  I
turned to Jorge, sitting next to me, and whispered that they had all
been part of the group that had been hassling he and his sister that
day.  He just nodded.

"Quiet, now," said Mr. Neville.  "Dr. Osgood, our principal, will
make an announcement during first period about the accident.  He will
also announce that school will be closed tomorrow in deference to
Skip and his family, so that his friends and teammates can attend his
funeral.  I will expect to see you all there.  As for the team,
obviously we have some reorganizing to do, which the coaching staff
will be working on today.  In the meantime, I've got these to hand
out."

He reached down and pulled out a box from underneath the table and
opened it up.  He pulled out black armbands and started handing them
out.

"As a show of team solidarity, I would like you all to wear these
today.  This is a very difficult time for all of us, gentlemen.  In
light of the events of the weekend, I think we should consider
dedicating the balance of this season to Skip and Theo."

There was a murmur of assent from all of us.  Nobody on the team
even considered disagreeing with the sentiment.  Coach Neville asked
for a show of hands, and it was a unanimous decision that we would
play the rest of our games for our two fallen players.

"Thank you, gentlemen," said Coach.  "I'll see you after school for
a short practice session."

We all slipped the armbands over our sleeves, and the team quietly
shuffled out of the gym to their first period classes.

"Mr. Porter, Mr. Johnson, could I see you two for a moment?"  Coach
tapped me on the shoulder, and caught Eric by the sleeve as we were
about to leave.

"Sure, Coach.  What's up?" Eric asked after everybody else had left.

Mr. Neville took off his glasses and started absent-mindedly wiping
the lenses on his tie.

"Despite the circumstances," he began, "I've still got to think
about the team and how to salvage this season.  I've lost my top two
players, and I have to make some fast changes."  He paused to collect
his thoughts, and put his glasses back on.  He looked hard at Eric
and me.

"You two have been in my thoughts lately.  Eric, your speed on the
field is exceptional, and we're going to need speed.  But your ball
handling could use some help.  I would like you to work before school
with a friend of mine, if you're willing.  He might be able to jump-
start your skills in a short amount of time."

Eric didn't look too happy about the prospect of getting to school
early just to learn how to juggle a soccer ball better, but he wisely
kept his mouth shut for the moment.

"In return," continued Coach, "I will be willing to offer you a
starting position in the offense, to replace Theo.  But," he added,
before Eric could answer, "the one depends on the other.  If you
aren't willing to improve your soccer skills, you won't get the
starting nod.  Think about it for a moment," he said, and turned to
me.

"Sean, Skip and I have been grooming you to take his position after
this season.  Unfortunately, circumstances have forced me to throw
you into the fire.  I need you before I think you're ready.  Can you
play the right defensive spot, knowing you're going to be trying to
fill some big shoes?"

I didn't have to think twice about it.  "Yes, sir.  I'll do my best."

"I know you will, Sean.  I just wish you weren't playing under these
conditions."  He nodded, as if making up his mind about something.

He walked us both to the door of the gym just as the first bell of
the day started ringing.

"I'll see you both after school for practice," he said.  He put an
arm around each of our shoulders, as if he was trying to protect us
from the ravages of the real world.  In retrospect, I guess that's
exactly what he was trying to do, in his way.

"Eric, let me know what you want to do by the start of practice
today, please.  Your decision affects what I will have to do on the
whole left side of our team," he said as he opened the door for us.

"I don't need to wait, Coach.  I'll be here tomorrow morning to work
on my game.  You can count on me."  Eric had that same determined
look on his face I had seen during our last club game a month ago. 
It now felt like a lifetime ago.

"Okay, good.  Then I will let the rest of the team know about our
realignment this afternoon.  Thanks, boys.  I knew I could rely on
both of you.  Just remember this.  Play the game according to the
rules, but play your own game.  Both things are possible."

He patted us both on the shoulder, then gently pushed us out into
the hall and on our way to our first classes of the day.

As I walked down the crowded halls toward my first period class, it
was eerily quiet.  Everyone was closed in on their own thoughts, and
those few clusters of kids who were gathered together were talking in
hushed tones, as if any undue noise would awaken the sleeping
monsters.  I got to my classroom just as the final bell rang and sat
down at my desk next to Jake, who just nodded to me in greeting,
sympathetic to the mood of everyone around him.

The intercom speaker in the corner of the room crackled as the last
dying reverberations of the bell were fading, and Dr. Osgood's voice
came over the intercom.

"May I have your attention please."  He paused as usual, probably to
wait for the hubub in the classrooms to die down.  Today that wasn't
necessary.  "As you are no doubt aware, a tragedy has visited us this
weekend.  Senior class members Charles 'Skip' Horvath and Theodore
Jameson were involved in a traffic accident on Saturday evening. 
Theo Jameson is in the hospital in serious condition, but is
improving.  Sadly, Skip Horvath was pronounced dead on arrival.  I
have spoken to both families, and have extended the school's
sympathies and best wishes.

"I have arranged to have grief counselors available all day in the
nurse's office.  Any student who feels the need to talk to a
counselor may do so at any time.  Teachers have been instructed to
write hall passes to any student who wishes to speak to a counselor
during their classes.

"Our school will be closed all day tomorrow so that students and
faculty can attend Skip Horvath's funeral.  Information concerning
visitation hours and time and location of the services for Skip will
be available by the fifth period, and may be picked up in any
classroom.  School will resume as scheduled on Wednesday morning.

"I am truly sorry I had to interrupt your classes this morning with
such terrible news.  Thank you for your attention."

For the first time I could recall, there was complete silence both
during and after Dr. Osgood's announcement.  Usually, announcements
concerned only a small group of students or teachers, and everybody
else took the opportunity to visit with friends sitting nearby, but
today's broadcast was different.  The silence was so out of place, a
few kids were looking around bewilderedly, as if they were trying to
figure out what was wrong.

All day long, each class was the same.  Teachers set aside their
lesson plans for the day and tried to get their classes to talk about
the accident.  Richie Del Toro's involvement was well-known by
lunchtime, and none of his Bulls were in attendance that day,
probably a good idea from a self-preservation standpoint.

By the end of the school day, everybody I saw looked the same way I
felt.  Ground down until there was nothing left, was how Josh put it.
Even Toby Mueller, the school's practical joker, was subdued and
distracted.

At soccer practice after school, Mr. Neville made no mention of his
lineup changes, in deference to the mood of the team.  We sat around
the locker room while he talked to us, individually and as a group,
and he led us in an informal prayer before taking us out to the
field.  We ran a couple of laps, then did some desultory shooting
drills just to stay loose and warm.  Finally, after what seemed like
about five hours, Coach blew his whistle to signal the end of
practice.  He gathered us all together and asked us to meet as a team
at the church before the service, so we could all sit together.

By the time I got home and sat down to a dinner I didn't want to
eat, I felt like I had just lived through the longest day of school
ever.



(Continued in Chapter 22)

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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