Chapter 54: Shifting Points of View

The Judson Rocket football team was not used to these feelings. They didn’t lose. The players had grown up living the life of football gods, and their only losses came at the end of the season when meeting better teams from other sides of the state. Yet, even then, the players walked by the trophy case to their lavish locker room every day. The trophy case featured stories of twelve prior seasons, since the 1980s, when the team won the final game of their season, the state championship.

Friday, after their demoralizing defeat to the neighborhood rivals, returning to the locker room was a new feeling to these players. They had grown up on stories of Judson domination over Roosevelt and all the other teams in the San Antonio area. Of course, they had losses before, but never had they been so thoroughly defeated. Most of the players would have trouble admitting it, but they wished the game had been called off at the halftime. Their minor push of adrenaline they felt to start the second half disintegrated when they looked into the eyes of their opponents. The sheer strength of focus from the Rough Riders was like being splashed with buckets of ice-cold water to wake up in the morning.

To a man, they slowly shuffled back into the locker room, their heads low as they passed the collection of state championship trophies and team photos. The only person talking was Rodney Valentine.

“I can’t believe you fools gave up just like that,” he murmured aloud to no one in particular. “We had them on their heels. All I needed was a sliver of open field, and I was gone, but no! You losers couldn’t even block a Pop Warner football team.”

Several upset glares began forming among the different players. The coaches could feel the emotion building in the room, and Coach Baker, the head football coach, decided to try and nip any confrontations in the bud right now.

“Valentine! Upfront right now! Everyone else take a knee on me and listen up,” the coach yelled at his defeated team. “We got beat tonight, no big whoop. You’ve decimated many a team before tonight, but tonight we got a taste of it. What do y’all think of it,” he asked as he looked several players directly in their faces. Each one looked away in shame.

“Not very tasty, is it?” Coach Baker continued to survey his team’s uncomfortable faces.

“I guess we can give up now and forget the rest of the season, right?” The coach noticed a small flicker of fight in a few of the players. Not many, but maybe enough. “No need to keep playing, huh? We can give up and let someone else raise a state championship trophy instead of us!” Coach Baker saw a few more determined looks appear on a smattering of the players.

“That’s the way they played tonight.” Rodney Valentine said from the edge of a bench he was sitting on, away from his kneeling teammates.

That was all the incentive Coach Baker needed. He turned away from his kneeling team and looked at the smug sneer of his star running back who looked like he had just said the cleverest comeback of all time. “Mr. Valentine, pack up your gear and turn in your pads and helmet to the coach. You are, at this moment, expelled from the Judson Rocket football team for conduct detrimental to the team and no longer excusable behavior toward the Judson Rocket family. I wish you good luck in your future,” Coach Baker finished, concentrating on keeping a smile from appearing.

Several grunts of approval and a couple of fist bumps came from the players.

“I’m as serious as a heart-attack, son. We are a football team – not the people in the way of your NFL future.”

Rodney stood up with his bottom lip quivering and began fighting for his football future on unsure emotions. “You can’t do this to me. I’m the best player on the team!” He began stomping his feet, and everyone in the locker room just stared at him in disbelief, watching a six-foot two-inch physical specimen getting ready to throw a fit like a kindergartner not allowed to play with his favorite toy. Rodney just kept yelling, “No!”

Coach Baker finally took hold of Rodney and pulled him, still screaming and bellyaching about the unfairness of his dismissal, into the coaches’ office. Then he ordered the team to shower and get home.

The giddiness of the remaining players was unmistakable throughout the locker room, but no one said a thing until they went outside. There would be no football win celebrations. Still, many players were going to various parties to spread the news of Rodney Valentine’s dismissal from the team.

The feelings in the Roosevelt locker room were far different than what was transpiring in the Judson locker room. While the Rough Riders had begun getting used to the feeling of winning football games and receiving congratulations from the student body, the idea that they just thoroughly defeated and demoralized the Judson Rockets was challenging to comprehend, but they were trying. There were no speeches from their coaches, only an order to be safe and enjoy the victory. They were to get to work on Monday, preparing for their next game, against the Madison Mavericks.

Tim finished showering and was getting dressed but also watching his phone for the congratulations sent to him. One text among the many from many classmates and alumni caught Tim’s attention. It was simple but made him smile in remembrance of the night they met.

It read, “Game well played.” It was signed with a crystal ball colored black to make it an onyx ball.

A loud cheer went off from the other side of the varsity lockers, prompting Tim to make his way over to find out what happened. Troy Williams and several other offensive players were high-fiving each other as Troy made his way to the large whiteboard on the far wall of the locker room. Troy grabbed one of the markers off the edge and wrote in huge letters, “PARTY 2NITE TROY’S HOUSE – DATS RITE!” The decibel level raised even higher after Troy stepped away from the whiteboard.

Frank was standing next to Tim and was the first to notice his confusion. “Troy’s parents don’t usually let him have a party after football games so, if he is announcing one, then his parents have ok’d it, and they are footing the bill. If you had other plans tonight, cancel them. You don’t want to miss this one. Shit, I’m calling in sick for tomorrow and telling them I got hurt tonight, and I’m worried about swelling. Take a look, and I’ll bet a bunch of us are suddenly being struck down with injuries from tonight’s game and need tomorrow off from our jobs.”

“So his parents are gonna be there, right?. Can’t get all crazy, can we?” Tim asked as they made their way back into their locker area?

“You’ve never been to Troy’s place, have you?” Tim shook his head no. “Well, Troy’s parents are probably the richest people who let their kid come to this school. They have, well, I guess, its a mansion. It’s got like ten bedrooms and just as many, or probably more, bathrooms. The wings of the house surround a huge pool in the backyard. It’s still warm enough, so we can probably go swimming.”

Troy stuck his head around the corner and added to the description. “Don’t worry about the weather! It’s a heated pool ... so we get to see bikini’s tonight! You gonna be there, right, Tim?”

“Yeah, I don’t see why not. I’ll let my dad know, and all I’ll need is a ride.”

Jeff Smith was finishing tying his shoes when he heard about Tim’s need for a ride. “I got you, man. I’m gonna meet my girl there at the party, so I got the room.”

“What about after, though?”

“I doubt you wouldn’t be able to find a ride home. If worse comes to worst, you can stay overnight, and I’ll drive you home tomorrow,” Troy offered as he practiced several complicated handshakes with some of the defense team members around and then left to get his house ready.

“Is he serious about staying over?”

“Yeah. Troy’s dad makes alcohol available and, if you partake, then you don’t drive. Remember ... ten bedrooms and he’s an only child,” Frank laughingly explained.

“Okay! Dude, I’ll see you in the car. I gotta tell my parents.” Jeff nodded his understanding while Tim made for the exit. The cheers from outside were a little shocking when he first opened the door to the locker room. The football star quickly recognized several students as well as a few teachers all cheering to greet the conquering heroes.

Standing to the left, Tim saw his dad smiling from ear to ear. Then, jumping up and down in front of him, was Tim’s little sister, Carmen. Finally, Tim recognized his mom proudly wearing a broad smile of her own. Tim waved exaggeratedly back at his overexcited sister just like she was at him. She was yelling but, with all the people in the parking lot, Tim could not make out what she was screaming, even with his nanite-assisted hearing.

Tim walked through the crowd, receiving congratulations, pats on the back, and questions hurled at him from every which way. He attempted to answer every fan question as best he could. Fortunately, the smattering of the press was spending more time shooting the fans gathered outside of the locker room than trying to get individual stories from any player.

Tim was more than halfway through the crowd of well-wishers in the parking lot when the decibel level erupted, once again, close to the locker room. Tim turned and recognized team captains Troy and Frank both coming outside at the same time.

The swell of people pushed their way toward the veterans, allowing Tim to reach his family. Carmen ran right into him and hugged him around his waist. He returned the hug with one of his own and swung his little sister onto her favorite spot, sitting on his shoulders behind his head. Tim’s parents gave their congratulations, followed by his mother doing her usual post-game body inspection.

“Are you okay? No injuries or anything?” his mother prodded.

Tim shared a quick look with his father, who had just learned of Tim’s new abilities. Without saying anything, Raymond let Tim know, with a glance, the time for a conversation to let his mother know about these new friends was coming soon.

Tim answered him with a knowing glance while answering his mother’s physical fitness inquiry. “I’m fine, Mom. Not even any bruises that I can tell. I’m not even that tired.”

“Of course you aren’t, you barely played toward the end of the game,” his sister said while lightly tapping on his head like a set of bongos. Tim reached up and took his sister off his shoulders, placing her back on the ground.

“I got invited to a party tonight. It’s a big team party. I want to go if that’s alright.”

“Sure. Have fun. I figured you were going to get invited to some party for this win,” Raymond, Tim’s father, added. Raymond leaned in close to his son, urging caution. “Be careful. If you need to, call me, and I’ll pick you and whoever else up.” Tim nodded his understanding.

“The party is out at Troy’s house. Gonna be a late-night pool party. His parents told him to go ahead and throw it to celebrate the win. It’s gonna be big, and pretty much the whole team is going. Can you believe that?” Tim pondered.

“Well, I hope that doesn’t mean you are going to have to throw one of those parties, yourself, at our house,” Tim’s mother jokingly responded.

“I wouldn’t worry about it, Mrs. Murphy. The kids play music a little too loudly and then jump in and out of the pool for most of the night. The only ones I need to worry about are the older kids like my boy and his girlfriend finding themselves too quiet of a corner and getting into trouble that way,” a large box of a man in a TR booster club polo shirt and blue jeans said from behind Tim. “Hi, there. I wanted to introduce myself to you and your parents, Tim. I’m Troy Williams, Senior, and this is my wife, Gwen.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” Tim nodded softly and shook hands with the older version of Troy and Troy’s mother. “And you, as well, ma’am.”

“Believe me, son, the pleasure is all ours,” Troy Williams, Senior, answered while shaking hands with Tim’s parents. “Today was an incredible win for the boys. As much as I’d like to think it was mainly my sons doing, we all have eyes and could see you are the catalyst of this amazing season for the Rough Riders.”

“Oh, well ... Troy is a great QB and leader of the team. I can’t do everything, and he is terrific. I hope our winning can help him maybe get some scholarship offers to play some college ball. I, for one, think he is good enough,” Tim said.

“That is kind of you to say, and indeed, yes, he is starting to get a lot of mail from different schools. I’ll bet the only one not happy about it is the mailman having to haul it all to the mailbox every day, but I’ll bet you are gonna be getting a lot more than Troy ever will.”

“From your lips to God’s ears,” Juanita, Tim’s mother, answered. The adults all nodded knowingly.

“As for the party tonight, unfortunately, it is only for the kids, and I don’t think the football team would want to be hanging out with their parents when there are plenty of young high school girls getting ready to pounce on our heroes here.” At that, Troy’s mom Gwen elbowed Senior in the stomach to show her displeasure with her husband’s quick jibe. The smile on her face muted any ill intent, though.

“We will be watching over everyone and, I just wanted to let you know, we will be trying to keep any alcohol out but, where there is a will, high schoolers will find a way,” Troy Sr., explained.

“Yes. If somehow, any of these kids get a little too worked up with their celebrating, we are already planning on having a few overnight guests to make sure there is no chance of anyone getting hurt,” Troy’s mom, Gwen, added. “We just wanted to find as many team parents as we could meet and tell them, yes, it will be a high school party, but we will be keeping an eye on the kids to make sure they don’t have TOO much fun,” she explained with a laugh. “It was a true pleasure to meet you.”

The adults shook hands again as the Williams couple found another set of parents to explain about the party. Tim just waved his hands toward the couple and continued with his parents. “Well, that’s where I’m going tonight. I don’t know what time I’ll be coming home.”

“It’s alright. Try to give me a heads-up around midnight if you are staying later or if you might need a ride. Text me on my cell. That way, we don’t keep the house up all night. Go have fun,” Raymond said while reaching up and messing up Tim’s hair. Tim was glad he had not bothered to put his hair into a ponytail.

A few more fans congratulated Tim as he made his way toward Jeff Smith’s GTO in the coaches parking lot, away from all the other parked cars of both students and fans. Jeff wasn’t in his car yet, so Tim passed the time people-watching from the secluded parking lot.

“Sorry about the wait, Tim. I’ve never seen so many people waiting outside the locker room after a game before. That was intense,” Jeff Smith reflected as he unlocked the car for the two defensive linemen. “Oh, yeah. I also wanted to say thanks.”

“For what?” Tim asked while adjusting the seat, giving himself more space for his long legs.

“I got my first few letters from bigger schools in the mail over the last couple of weeks. I’m gonna take a couple of visits, and now I’ll be able to play ball at a Division I school, with a chance at some bowl games and to catch the eyes of a few pro scouts.”

“Is that what you want to do? Do you wanna play football for the rest of your life? I mean, I think you have the skill...” Tim found himself tripping over his own words.

“Oh, I know it’s a long shot, but it is something I can keep for myself. It’s something I can earn on my own, and well, yeah, I think I’m good enough, too,” Jeff explained with a slight punch at Tim’s shoulder.

“Cool. Don’t forget us little people here as you step out from under us here at Roosevelt,” Tim joked. Both guys laughed up a storm as the car entered the ritzier side of the Roosevelt population area.

Windcrest is a small suburban community on the outskirts of San Antonio. Its total area of just under two and a half square miles was a perfect fit for the 5,000 or so people living within its city limits. The city of Windcrest shares its north, west, and south borders with San Antonio. Unincorporated neighborhoods of Bexar County border the east side.

The population of Windcrest mirrored the people of the long developed and much larger city of Alamo Heights just a few miles to the southwest, closer to the center of San Antonio. The per capita norms between the two areas were very similar to the people moving to Windcrest. They were typically of newer means rather than the old-family money living in Alamo Heights, but the people living in either booming, suburban city were affluent enough to set themselves apart from their San Antonio brethren. The ongoing trend is wealthy families in San Antonio moving further north from the centralized downtown of San Antonio.

The two spent much of the drive to Troy William’s house listening to the sports radio show talking about the drumming of a San Antonio powerhouse in high school football.

“I dunno Dapper Dan, I think they need to check what that boy has running through his veins. I’ll bet dollars to doughnuts that boy has something other than blood runnin’ through ‘em,” a rather upset Judson fan said of the defeat of their school’s football team.

“Aw, now that’s some bullshit,” Jeff yelled and pounded the steering wheel to emphasize his point. “Big John already told everybody you passed the drug tests with flying colors!”