Chapter 7: The Hardship Clause

I smirked to myself, before turning to concentrate on the field. By my side, Tom provided insights into the game, which I greatly welcomed considering his knowledge of football far superseded mine. Any opportunity to learn via osmosis was not to be missed.

“Hey, look, Kevin and Charlie are taking to the field.”

“Thanks for letting me know, Tom. I couldn’t have seen that at all ... by myself.” I dryly responded.

“Yeah, not a problem.” was his distracted answer.

On the field, once the ball was snapped, Charlie was a monster. He erupted from his three-point stance and launched himself forward, slapping away the hands of his opposite number as he twisted around. With a giant forearm, he hacked at the quarterback of Madison Park from behind, bringing him down.

“A SACK, on first and ten. What an aggressive move by Charles Vu to signify his intent early on in the game! It must be noted that this time last year, number Sixty-Nine had only played his third game of football ... EVER! Voted Defensive Team Captain this year, it will be interesting to see what this young man can do in this game.”

This time, Madison Park chose to run the ball. As their QB handed off the ball to their running back, a gap opened up in the line of scrimmage. The RB shot through the hole, only to meet Kevin who had somehow materialised before the RB. Kevin grabbed the RB by his jersey around the front of his shoulders and dumped him to the ground.

“Second and Nine. What a play by number Seven, Kevin Whittaker. Wait, am I reading this right? Number Seventy-Seven for the East Boston Jets is only a sophomore this year. For all you Jets supporters out there, here’s to two more years of seeing number Seventy-Seven”

The Madison Park QB seemed fairly composed in spite of the setbacks suffered. He entered into the huddle, vigorously gesturing at his teammates, before breaking the huddle.

Once the ball was snapped, he scrambled back as the left defensive end broke through against the right tackle. On his blindside, Charlie broke free as well. As he tackled the QB, I saw the head of the QB snap back from whiplash. Wincing in sympathy for him, I waited for the official calls.

The players were all embroiled in a pushing and shoving scrum while the QB remained lying motionless on the field. The officials finally managed to separate the players by wit of vigorous usage of whistles, and good old arm strength.

“Tackle is good. Fourth down. Madison Park.” was the official call.

Madison Park sent their special teams on field to kick for return. Meanwhile Charlie was enduring a round of congratulatory slaps from his teammate once he had stepped off the field.

“What a play. Number Sixty-Nine has once again shown why he is the leading DE in this conference with five tackles, including two behind the line, and a sack to his name so far!”

Madison Park lost most of their momentum, or resolve with the last tackle of their senior QB. He never returned to the field, but it was announced that he did not suffer any serious injury. Without the offensive spark of their QB, the match devolved into a defensive stalemate.

Our starting QB, Jason Finch was limited by his arm. Even so, he managed to drive the team down the field with a series of short passes.

“Touchdown, Jets!” That was to be the highlight of the match.

The rest of the match was a snooze-fest. Literally. It was also a testament to the skill of both Charlie and Kevin, who managed to nullify the East Madison offense. When you considered the fact that East Madison were widely projected to be the winners of the conference this year, since the bulk of their championship winning team were juniors the previous year, it further accentuated the performances of my brother and Kevin.

Nonetheless, if not for the fact that Tom was constantly pointing out a fact, or answering my questions thereby broadening my football brain – his term, not mine – I would have likely dozed off. As it was, my arm was serving as a comfortable pillow to one Ms. Vickers. Asleep, she looked really adorable. Her cheeks pinked by the cold looked positively puffy. And those ruby red lips, I wonder how they taste...

WAIT, WHAT?

I must have had something shaken loose after yesterday’s match. Melody was not somebody I ever considered when I envisioned my future girlfriend. To be honest, I always have had a crush on one of Charlie’s exes, Anushka, who was his first girlfriend that we had ever met. She had a light brown skin, a sort of dusky complexion. Her eyes were large and opalescent, her nose a celestial shape, with a slight turned-up end. Her lips ... those lips, full, plump, and lush.

My goddess Anushka, who guided me through many a trying time, who spurred my creative juices, who exposed the darkest recesses of my perverted teenaged mind. She was otherworldly. In comparison, Melody was ... Melody.

I needed to sleep on this. Oh geez, Freudian slip, I meant think on this.

Monday was interesting. The day started off with the homeroom period for weekly administration. In that time, our Headmaster, Mr. Branch came on the P.A. system congratulating both the JV and Varsity teams for their victories over Madison Park. Mdm. Damo went one further, when she announced to the class, that I had starred in the game for the JV team.

I was slightly embarrassed by all the attention, and I tried waving it away, only for Tom to pipe up from the back that I had set a new East Boston JV record for passing in a single game. Apparently, a local beat reporter was in attendance at the game. The East Boston Times had recorded me passing for 287 yards, which Tom – sneaky fella that he is, gleaned from the library’s stock of daily newspapers.

I decided to acknowledge the homeroom’s applause. Standing up, I gave them a regal wave of my hand before announcing to the girls in the class, “Applications to be my girlfriend is unfortunately, not being accepted at this moment. Please try again next year.”

Snorting, Mdm. Damo bade me to sit, amidst a chorus of ‘boos’ from the girls directed at me, as she got the class back into the flow of things.

November 2004

I had no idea how time flew by so quickly. Before I realised, it was already November. On the academic front, I continued to thrive as I absorbed all I could in all my classes. In the athletic end, I had somehow led East Boston to an unbeaten streak, trumping over the six other schools in our conference after the Madison Park game.

Both Coaches Yoast, and Franklin were quite besides themselves. If you didn’t know better, they were that close to putting both Charlie and I up for canonisation.

I scratched my head as I considered the situation. On one hand, I could certainly understand their raving over Charlie’s performance. After Madison Park, he had put in a slew of insane performances against Hull, English, Brighton, and Winthrop. In all five games, he had managed at least two sacks against their respective quarterbacks. That, and his five tackle average per game made him highly attractive to the college scouts who were in attendance.

Both Harvard, and Boston College had already extended offers for Charlie to visit their campus unofficially.

Meanwhile, when I considered my performance, I was just a tad perplexed. I couldn’t see where I supposedly performed exceptionally. Sure, I had that great game against Madison Park where I threw for 287 yards for five touchdowns. Subsequently though, against Hull and English, I only managed to throw for 203 yards for four touchdowns. They had held us to just two touchdowns a piece. Thankfully, our defence led by Jack and Antwaan were solid, denying both teams any touchdowns.

Tom had reliably informed me that that he considered me a sham, a wide receiver in a quarterback role. I couldn’t exactly refute that. Against Brighton and Winthrop, I had rushed the ball for a total of 109 yards, and scored two touchdowns. In comparison, I had only thrown for 72 yards for one touchdown in those games.

After Coach Yoast had calmed down sufficiently from my rushing antics in those games, he just shook his head. My teammates were nonplussed when I chose to run. The way I saw it, just because I was a quarterback didn’t mean that I had to throw the ball. In fact, the way I played as it were, was faintly similar to rugby – although I drew the limit at attempting a dropkick for extra points. I had tried out that manoeuvre during practice when I was subjected to a forced shower under the miraculous attitude adjustment properties of Coach Yoasts’ Saliva; trademark pending. Once was enough.

In any case, I played it straight and narrow for our games against Lowell and New Mission. As far as games were in my limited experience, the JV team managed put out a clinical performance against both teams. I threw for a further 314 yards for six touchdowns.

So as far as I was concerned, I was just enjoying the games. My efforts didn’t seem entirely impressive to me. I was also not too concerned with the statistics. Even if I were, I wasn’t too sure where I stood in comparison to the talented players being actively recruited by colleges. Finding myself summoned to the Athletic Director’s office with Charlie, as well as Coaches Yoast and Franklin, therefore, was puzzling.

“I’m sure you’re curious as to why we called you boys here in for a discussion.” Mr. Coulter, our school’s Athletic Director begun.

Looking at Charlie, I inclined my head to signal him to take the lead in this.

Mr. Coulter continued, “Charles, Coach Franklin had informed me of your stalwart efforts this season. It has also come to my attention that you’re attracting a huge amount of interest from colleges around Massachusetts. I believe it’s time we sat down and have a frank discussion as to the possibilities you might have. Also you might wish to inform your parents, and get the okay for us to release your contact details to interested coaches from those colleges. You might also want to consider sending out videos to the colleges you are interested in. Coach Franklin can help you with that.”

That was par for course. Then Mr. Coulter turned to me, “James, you’ve been playing really well for the JV team. Unfortunately, our back-up QB for the Varsity team has just suffered a dislocated wrist. Coach Yoast, and Coach Franklin have agreed to allow you to play for the Varsity team if you’re willing. We would be exercising a hardship clause to get MIAA to allow you to join the Varsity team, so don’t worry about that.”

I can’t say I saw that coming!

Charlie let out a whoop next to me, as he grabbed hold of my shoulders and gave me a shake.

Hold up his hands, Mr. Coulter carried on, “Take your time and consider this request. Coach Franklin needs a capable back-up QB.”

While I no longer felt apathetic about football, I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to face someone like Charlie on the field. I was slowly becoming muscular as a result of close to six months of growth, increased quantities of nutrition, and regular work-outs. The key word though, being ‘slowly’. At least in the JV games, I was taller than most players on the field, which served to give me the illusory confidence of physical size.

“Uh ... I would need to think about this, Mr. Coulter.” I managed to answer.

“Alright, son. Just let either of the Coaches now your decision soon.” he instructed, before turning to Charlie, “Have your parents contact me on this number soon.” Handing over a name card, he waved us out of his office.

Before I left the office, I caught a glimpse of Coach Yoast’s face. He must not have liked the decision to shift me to the Varsity team very much either because his lips had a pursed quality to it the whole time we were in the office.

Over dinner, Charlie brought up the issue of college to our parents. Naturally, Mom was ecstatic at what she perceived to be a shift away from Charlie’s previous intention to apply to Sandhurst. Dad was slightly more circumspect.

“If you’re that good, why only the colleges in Massachusetts?” was his query. “Besides, what would you want to study in college? Are those schools even good at the subject you’re intending to major in?”

“Dad, relax!” Charlie exhorted. “I’m actually thinking of heading to MIT. I could save on accommodation while I’m there.”

It was one of the few times I had seen Dad sputter. He recovered though, “I ... wasn’t aware that you were keen on sciences.”

“Yeah ... I’m only joshing around.” Charlie cracked a grin as he said that. “I’ll probably be keen on political science or sociology.”

Charlie then proceeded to outline the interest he was receiving from colleges, and conveyed Coach Franklin’s predictions of increased interest from out of state colleges as well. He then asked our parents if they were alright with us having to spend money for trips.

Our parents were quick to agree. In fact, Mom was so happy that she immediately promised, to accompany Charlie to all the unofficial visits that he was interested to go on. Dad was ... well, suffice to say, an Army draft board had nothing on Mom when it came to forcing unwilling individuals to get on with the programme. For me, I was just interested in acting like a tourist.