Chapter 8: Sunday, October 1, 2017

For the last few days President Trump had been on a Twitter rampage, demanding that the NFL players stand during the anthem, demanding the team owners and coaches fire them if they didn’t, and promising dire actions otherwise. Both Jack and I were getting slammed left and right, me for not complaining about the football players’ protests and Jack for not doing more. He was also bitching about Puerto Rico, primary elections, and fake news. No wonder he wasn’t doing his job - he was spending all his time watching television and playing with his phone!

He probably wasn’t going to be all that happy by the time he went to bed Sunday night. The day started quietly, with Kelly and me sleeping late, and then calling home to speak to her parents and the kids. After that we just lounged around the room, watching some of the Sunday morning news shows. After lunch, we returned to the room to change. I put on my uniform and checked my ribbons but stuck the Medal in my pocket. It gets too many stares when I wear it. I would put it on in the locker room. Kelly wore some form-fitting slacks and a cream-colored blouse, with a jacket in case it was chilly. The weather was supposed to be overcast and breezy, with temperatures in the high sixties or low seventies. If it didn’t start raining until after I got off the field, I would be fine. Jack could run around in the mud if he had to.

At 1330 we received a call to the room stating our car was ready. We went down to the lobby and one of the security people took us to a black limousine with dark windows. “Somebody will meet you at the stadium, sir.”

“Thank you.”

I was quiet on the way over. I couldn’t help but wonder if I was doing the right thing. Kelly took my hand and asked, “Grim, you okay?”

I squeezed her hand back. “Just fine.”

“Okay.”

“You know, I never asked you what you thought about this.”

“A little late to be asking now, don’t you think?’, she laughed.

“Sorry about that. Well?”

She shrugged and smiled. “I think this is between you, Jack, and the President. If I have to pick sides, I’ll stick with the Reapers. Who knows? Maybe you two can piss the President off so much you’ll get thrown in jail and we can get Bobbie Joe down to defend you.”

“That would be all we need, a corporate finance lawyer defending us,” I laughed. Then I got serious. “Do you think I’m right to do this?”

She looked at me for a moment and said, “I don’t know. I do know that you think you’re right, and that’s good enough for me.” I opened my mouth, but she stopped me and said, “Just don’t worry about it. I trust you and I believe in you. You’re a good man, Grim, a good person. I know you know I love you, but even more than that, you make me proud. I am proud that you asked me to marry you and be your wife and be the mother of your children. Do what you think is right! If that pisses off the President of the United States, he can just go screw himself!”

That caused me to laugh loudly. “You’re going to make me cry, and then my makeup will run”, I told her. I looked around the limousine. “Hey, want to do it in a limo?”

“And the moment is ruined! First the airplane and now this. You have a one-track mind!”

We continued joking until we pulled up to the stadium. We were driven to a private entrance with security guards and police around it and were let out. A couple of men came up and one said, “Sergeant Reaper, I’ll be escorting you to the locker room. Your wife will be taken to Mister Davis’ private box. You’ll be taken there once the game starts.”

Kelly gave me a last-minute hug and kiss, and said, “See you in a while. I love you.”

“I love you, too. See you in a few.” We split apart and were led inside. I immediately got lost but found myself being led into a locker room. It reminded me of when I had been in the locker rooms at the Georgia Dome, which I had seen back when we were in the State Championships my senior year. It was a lot bigger and nicer than the locker room in the basement of the station. I got a lot of stares as I entered. One of the coaches greeted me and led me over to where Jack was gearing up.

Jack smiled and clapped me on the back. “Hey, it still fits.”

“Screw you, too”, I laughed.

He looked me over. “You got your Medal?”

I patted my pocket. “I feel silly walking around with it. I’ll need some help with the clasp.”

Coach Del Rio came over next. “So, you’re really going to do this, Sergeant? How do you want to do this?”

I just shook my head. “However you want me to, Coach. I’m just a guest here.”

“You’re more than a guest, Sergeant.” He glanced at a clock and said, “Well, for right now, just stay out of the way. When we go out on the field, how about you lead us out?”

“Whatever you say, Coach.”

I sat down on a bench next to Jack and watched, thinking about the differences and similarities to my days playing football in high school. At least Jack didn’t have to worry about the opposing team shitting in their lockers.

“Remember when we had to lug around all this stuff in our game bags?” I asked my brother.

“It wouldn’t even fit in a bag anymore. Hey, how are the Pioneers doing this year?”

I smiled and shook my head. “The Pioneers are history. They finished construction on the new high school over the summer and moved everyone in. It’s no longer the Warriors or Pioneers. It’s now the Mighty Armadillos.”

“The Mighty Armadillos!” he exclaimed. “Where the fuck did that come from?”

I laughed. “No idea. Somebody had the bright idea to let the kids have a vote. Ought to be called the Flaming Pansies. They haven’t won a game all season!”

“What happened to Coach Summers? That doesn’t sound like him”, commented Jack.

“Everything had to start fresh. Mrs. Hollister retired, anyway, and Coach got an offer to be on the defensive staff at Georgia State. They brought in some numbnuts who hasn’t figured it out yet”, I explained.

“Man, we had some kind of dynasty back then!”

We continued gossiping about home. As game time got closer, Jack came over and helped me with the clasp on the Medal. I checked my appearance in a mirror. He loaned me a lint brush to polish up with.

As we did that, several of the Raiders came over, sometimes singly and sometimes in pairs. Typical of the conversations was one I had with one of the tackles, a mountain of a man. “Hey, man, thanks for doing this, you know. It means a lot.”

I nodded and replied, “No problem.”

“I mean, it’s not about the Army or nothing, you know that, right?”

“I know.” It was about me as a cop, not me as a soldier. How did I get involved I this?

“And don’t worry about that stuff from the other night. Forget that asshole.”

“It’s nothing I haven’t heard on the job. Don’t sweat it.”

“Yeah, right. Well, anyway, thanks.”

I stood off to the side as Coach Del Rio gave his final pre-game speech to the team. Then he said, “Now, I know you guys are planning on kneeling or linking arms or whatever, and you know my thoughts and Mister Davis’ thoughts about that, but we won’t stop you. For those of you so asleep that you didn’t notice Sergeant Reaper here, he has volunteered to lead you out onto the field. So, don’t screw around. He won’t be running, so just walk out behind him and get in a line on the sideline. He’ll be down on the end of the line. After the anthem, you team captains will escort him out to the center of the field for the coin flip. Sound good, Sergeant?”

I hadn’t been expecting the coin flip, but it wasn’t as if I didn’t know what would happen. “Sounds good, Coach.”

He nodded to an assistant of some sort, who took off, and then had us line up in the tunnel. A minute later the loudspeaker announced, “Please welcome the Oakland Raiders, being led by Medal of Honor recipient, Sergeant Graham W. Reaper.”

Jack was standing next to me, carrying his helmet, and looking down at me. “Let’s do this, bro.”

“Peace through firepower, Jack.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind.” That was our battalion’s motto, back in the day. “Let’s go.” I started walking and the team followed in a line of twos.

Once we got to the sidelines, the guys were surprisingly quiet, without a lot of the joking around and routine horseshit you get on any sidelines. Jack and I were down at the right end of the line, and guys were sorting themselves out. The front line was the group that would be kneeling, and the second line was the guys who would be linking arms. Jack was standing in the second line, but apart, as if he wouldn’t be joining them. I took him by the elbow and tugged him forward to the front line.

“Grim?”

“When the time comes, Jack, take a knee.”

“Grim, no, not with you here!”

I turned to my brother and said, “Jack, I know you respect me, and you respect the country. Don’t worry about me. This isn’t about me. Show your teammates you respect them. I can stand for all of you.”

“Grim.”

“Trust me, Jack. Take a knee.”

A moment later the announcer came over the loudspeakers and said, “Please stand for the National Anthem.”

Jack gave me one last look, but I smiled and put my left hand on his shoulder and gave it a bit of pressure. He knelt next to his teammate and linked an arm. I stood beside him, and as the music started, I came to attention and saluted. I heard cheers and I heard boos. My thoughts were all over the place as I stood there, how some would understand and some wouldn’t, and if there would be consequences. As I told Davis the other day, I’d just have to carry the load. When the anthem ended, I could see tears in Jack’s eyes, but he didn’t say anything and just wrapped me in a bear hug. I hugged him back and received several handshakes and slaps on the back from some of the Raiders.

After the anthem, it was time to head out to flip the coin. The Raiders had four captains go out, the two offensive and two defensive captains. Khalil Mack, one of the defensive captains, came over and said, “It will be our privilege, sir, to escort you.”

I smiled. “Don’t call me sir, sir. I’m a sergeant. I work for a living.”

He smiled back. “Yes, sir, I understand, sir.”

I just laughed at that, and the four of us headed for the center of the field. We were met by five Broncos, two offensive captains, two defensive captains, and the special teams captain. They also thanked me for coming. After the flip, we left the field, and it was back to the sidelines. Once there, Coach Del Rio called the team around him and gave some last-minute comments, and then turned it over to me. “Guys, I just want to thank everybody for inviting me, and giving me the chance to be here. Now, considering the grief I am about to get, can you do me a favor and win the frigging game?” That got a lot of laughter, and I was escorted off the field.

Once I was back through the tunnel, I was taken to an elevator and up to the Skybox level. I was led to one of the suites and let into one of the suites. Inside, Mark Davis smiled and came over. “Sergeant Reaper, welcome. That seemed to go well.”

“I was never expecting any trouble.”

Kelly came over and put an arm around my waist, but before she could say anything, Davis said, “I heard one of the guys got mouthy last night.”

I looked at Kelly. “You say something?”

“Not me.”

I shrugged and smiled at Davis. “I hear a lot worse most days at work. That was nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Well, come on in. I have a few friends who want to meet you, and then hopefully you have the guys fired up enough to win! This is one of the biggest rivalries in the NFL, you know.”

The premium suites up on the Skybox level were very nice. It must be nice to be a billionaire; I’d have to try it someday. We had waitresses and bartenders and appetizers and food and all sorts of nice things. Oh, and there was a football game we could watch if we wanted to. I found a very nice seat with Kelly on my left and sat down to watch.

I should have simply drunk the free beer and eaten the free appetizers. Denver went ahead in the first quarter and stayed there the entire game. I used to play defense, so I had some knowledge of what that involved, and Denver simply dominated Oakland the entire game, and Oakland’s defense, including my brother, was just not up to matching them. It was bad enough to have Jack get me into this mess, but to have him lose was just the bad icing on a very bad cake. At the end of the game, with a final score of Broncos 16, Raiders 10, I looked at my wife and said, “I need to kick Jack’s ass.”

“That would be the Jack who is three inches and thirty pounds heavier than you”, she replied.

“It’s only two inches.”

“I’m just saying, don’t be figuring you’re going to kick his ass. It might be the other way around.”

I shrugged and smiled. “As long as I do it now and not after the season when he gets a chance to heal up. It’s probably even money right now.”

Mark Davis came over and said, “Sergeant Reaper, thank you for coming. It’s been a real pleasure and privilege. Thank you for your service, sir. Mrs. Reaper, thank you for coming.” He motioned one of the escorts over. “My understanding is that Coach Del Rio would like you to speak at the press conference.”

“Yes, sir, I heard that. Thank you for having us at the game. I’m just sorry the game didn’t work out the way we hoped.”

He gave me a wolf-like smile. “Well, we’ll just have to see how Jack Del Rio fixes the problem, won’t we.” That wasn’t subtle, was it? Fix the problem or be unemployed.

Kelly and I were escorted down to a press room, where we stopped off to the side of a small stage, behind some curtains. Coach Del Rio was already there. “Sergeant, glad to have you back. With you here, maybe it won’t hurt so much when I have to go out there and fall on my sword.”

“I do not envy you, sir.”

“Do you have something prepared? I know I told your brother that you’d need to say something about coming here today.”

I patted my uniform jacket. “Jack told me. I put a statement together. I am guessing I should just read the statement and then take some questions.”

“That’s usually the way it works. I’ll go first, along with Derek. Then I’ll send Derek off, and you can come in. When it gets crazy, I’ll call it and we can get out of here. Then we’ll get the guys to the airport and go home. You’re staying the night?” he asked.

“We’re scheduled to fly out in the afternoon. Maybe we can get some sightseeing in tomorrow morning”, said Kelly.

The press room was beginning to fill up, and lights were coming on. Derek Carr, the quarterback, came in wearing jeans and a team sweatshirt, his hair still drying. He said hello, and I commiserated with him about losing the game. First out were Vance Joseph and Trevor Siemian, the Broncos head coach and the winning quarterback. They talked for about ten or fifteen minutes, and then they took off and Del Rio and Carr went out. They got hammered for another ten or fifteen minutes, and then Del Rio sent Carr out. It was my turn, and I could sense the carnivores licking their chops.

Coach Del Rio started by introducing me. “Now, it is my pleasure and privilege to introduce our guest, Sergeant Graham Reaper. Sergeant Reaper is the brother of our middle linebacker, Jack ‘the Ripper’ Reaper, and received the Congressional Medal of Honor for his service in Iraq. As you saw earlier, Sergeant Reaper led our team onto the field, stood with them during the anthem, and then flipped the game coin to start the game. He has a short statement to make, and then will take some questions. Please join me in welcoming Medal of Honor winner Sergeant Graham Reaper.”

There was a smattering of applause, but the reporters and camera people were mostly stone-faced. I checked the Medal around my neck, and then went out and sat down at the table next to the coach. Well, I had agreed to this, so it was all on me. I set down my statement, which I had written the other night on some Four Seasons stationery and began.