Chapter 2

The NFL announced the Wild Card playoff lineups later Sunday night while I watched Kyle’s Broncos play the Steelers. We would play the New York Giants at Met-Life Stadium on Saturday night in prime time.

The Broncos backup QB took over from Brady Rasmussen halfway through the first quarter. Kyle was benched for the night at the same time. Charlie Taylor, my brother’s college and professional teammate carried the load running the ball. Devon Ford assisted.

I was pleased to see Hal Long kicking for the Broncos. He was a mid-season fill-in when the Broncos regular kicker tore an ACL. Hal deserved a shot at the NFL, the same as the rest of us from the Wolverines High School football team we all played on. Kyle, me, Ed Fritz, Jeremy North, Jake Kring and Mike Johanson had all made it. Hopefully he would stick around after this season.

Hal carried the load for his team that evening. The Broncos won on the strength of Hal’s three field goals, 16-13. The Steelers dynasty that won the Super Bowls this century was just about gone. I frankly expected Ben Roethlisberger to hang it up after this game. He had been beaten up brutally in the past few seasons.

Coach Tolbert informed every one of our practice schedule. Our normal Tuesday day off would be a practice day. No one minded. If we didn’t play our best Saturday night in New Jersey, we would have all the days off we wanted – from now until next April when OTAs [off-season training activities] started.

Chris Cobb, our #3 tight end and a fellow rookie, sat with me at lunch. “Did you hear my Blue Devils stole a coach from your brother’s school?”

“No.”

“The QB coach,” Chris explained. “You know ... the guy who trained up Phillip DiStefano, Zachary Hayes and Chip Brinton. He’s got to be pretty good. Did you ever meet him?”

“QB Coach?” I asked as I searched my memories.

“Russell Peterson,” Chris added helpfully.

“Yeah, I did,” I answered. “I did two recruiting visits to Penn State. He is a good coach, from what I remember. I know my brother speaks highly of him.”

“He will be a good fit at Duke,” Chris added. “He’s already used to putting academics first. We love our Blue Devil football, but we love academic achievement more. Why didn’t you follow your brother to Penn State?”

“Coach Keeler at Delaware was willing to allow me to go home after games to spend time with my boys,” I explained.

“Every weekend?” I nodded yes. “Unbelievable. I never would have thought ANY football coach would allow his players to go home during the season.”

“I am grateful that he did,” I replied. “I couldn’t have missed four years of my boys’ life.”

“I guess a Division I-AA coach will do what he has to get a I-A talent on his team,” Chris said. I understood what my friend meant even though the proper terminology was Football Championship Series/FCS and Football Bowl Series/FBS. Many players and coaches still called the divisions I-AA and I-A.

News that an obscure coach at a university I never attended impacted my friends more than I expected.

I found out some shocking news over lunch the next day. Someone had ESPN turned on in the cafeteria. Most of us were ignoring the talking heads. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed the crawler at the bottom of the screen.

“Green Packers QB Zack Hayes announced his retirement this morning...”

I was stunned. Zack wasn’t that much older than my brother. They played together in high school and college. I was only two years younger than Kyle. That made Zack twenty-eight, five years older than me. I would turn twenty-three the day of our wild card playoff game. All of this brought home what my agent, Max Solomon, always preached. ‘Be ready for life after football. It can come at any time.’

I called Zack in the evening after practice was over. It took a few tries to get through on his phone.

“Hey, Andy,” Zack said pleasantly as he answered his phone.

“Retirement? I’m shocked...” I began.

“You and every one of the other twenty people who called tonight,” Zack said. “I’m tired of the beatings. I won’t feel healthy until March ... maybe. You hear about that concussion I suffered a couple weeks ago?”

“I was watching the game with my boys,” I acknowledged.

“That was my fifth,” Zack explained. “You know I want to be a football coach when I finish playing. I understand they want coaches to have a few brain cells left.”

“It helps,” I agreed. “Let me guess. You already have your next job lined up – quarterback coach at Penn State.”

“I do,” Zack acknowledged, laughing. “Coach Burton promised years ago to hire me when I finished playing. He called me and recruited me when the deal with Duke and Coach Peterson became a strong possibility. Leigh Ann and I didn’t need to talk long to decide that we belonged in State College, not in the NFL.”

“I’m happy you’re reaching your personal goals, Zack,” I replied.

“Do you have an exit plan for life after the NFL?” Zack asked. “All of this goes by really quickly.”

“I do,” I answered. “Playing in the NFL has never been one of my life’s goals. This is a means to an end. I started preparing for life after football while I was in college.”

“Good for you,” Zack said. “Now, I have a professional question for you.” He laughed. “We’re all from Paradise but I don’t know Matt Sauder at all. What can you tell me about him? He just became my responsibility.”

“I have played with three NFL or future NFL quarterbacks between Ed, Jake and Dylan Harris,” I answered. “The ‘Mad Bomber’ is as talented as ANY of the other quarterbacks I’ve played with.”

“The Mad Bomber?” Zack asked, laughing.

“That was what the other guys on the team called him when he was made starter when he was in tenth grade,” I explained. “He played with no fear. Put it up and let the receivers go make a play for it. We loved it.”

“Chuck it up and pray,” Zack said. “I hope he’s learned a few things since those days.”

“Kyle assured me he has,” I said. “I can tell you what Kyle has told me.”

“That’s alright,” Zack said. “I plan to pump your brother for information too.”

“Good luck in State College, Zack,” I said.

“Good luck against the Giants on Saturday,” Zack answered.

“Give Leigh Ann and Laurie my love,” I added before we ended the phone call.

Be prepared for life after football. It was excellent advice. I already achieved step 1 of my life-after-football plan. Get a nice nest egg of money. My best friend, Eric Connell, was working on step 2 now. We would be ready in a few years when my playing career ended. Life after football would be just fine for me and my boys.

The Rams had three players who had played in the playoffs before. Mark Briggs, our kicker, had been a part of the “Greatest Show on Turf” Rams in the early 2000s. Terrence Jones was a wide receiver for the Eagles when they lost to the Saints in the wild card round in 2013. Mark Shaeffer, our backup QB, had been QB3 with the Bengals when they played in a wild card game early in his career. Coach Tolbert had played for the 1985 Super Bowl winning Bears team and taken the Titans to the Super Bowl years later. He understood what was coming.

The playoffs would be more intense than the regular season. We needed to work harder and study harder if we wanted to succeed. We took Coach’s advice to heart. Guys came in early and stayed late studying video and the game plan. We practiced hard and focused on our tasks. We felt confident when we did our final practice Friday afternoon.

We flew east to New Jersey Friday night. We did a run through practice at Met-Life Stadium Saturday after lunch. We felt ready by the time we came back out for warm-ups Saturday after dinner.

I had time to chat with Tyler Madden, the Giant’s excellent free safety. Tyler was a former Nittany Lion team captain who graduated a year ahead of my brother, Kyle. I knew Tyler from my official visit to Penn State and also from my brother’s wedding. Tyler had been robbed when they announced the Pro Bowl selections. He should have been selected. I would have my hands full trying to catch passes while he was roaming the deep end of the field.

Our confidence that we understood what it meant to be ready for the playoffs was misplaced. We knew the intensity went up but we didn’t understand how much until we got on the field with the Giants. Tyler Madden’s hits were literally bone rattling. The Giants were flying around the field like maniacs. We thought we were ready but we weren’t. We were down 14-0 before the end of the first quarter.

Being down two scores turned us into a one dimensional team. Normally Marcus Waldron’s running yardage complemented our passing game. That day, the Giants were able to ignore the running threat and concentrate on our passing attack. We sputtered, trying to force the ball into coverage against seven defensive backs. We managed to get on the scoreboard in the second quarter but we were down 21-7 at halftime.

We started better when we received the kickoff to start the third quarter. Dylan led us down the field impressively and quieted the crowd as we stuffed the ball into the end zone. Inspired by the score, our defense rose up and stuffed the Giants’ next possession. Three downs later they punted it back to us.

I got a good return on the punt, moving the ball out to our 47 yard line. Our offense got to work. We made good yards on the first four downs. The fifth play was a disaster. I came open and Dylan drilled the ball towards me. A Giants lineman swatted it as it flew by him. The ball wobbled and dove for the ground well short of me. I tried to get by the cornerback I had beaten to catch the ball. Tyler Madden easily beat me there.

Tyler scooped the ball inches above the ground and sprinted for our end zone. I slipped the weak block the cornerback attempted and took off after Tyler. I was closing on him when I noticed a blur in my peripheral vision. Next thing I am flying ass over elbows. I clambered off the ground in time to see Tyler cruise into the end zone, untouched. The Giants kicker made the PAT to put them up 28-14.

Tyler’s pick six re-energized the crowd of Giants fans. Their defense fed off the energy. They stopped our offense time and again. We managed to score a field goal in the fourth quarter, but it was far too little, much too late. The final score was Giants-34, Rams-17.

“We’ve learned a lot of lessons today, guys,” Dylan Harris announced back in the locker room after the game. “Now the rest of you know how intense the playoffs are. We can fix that next season. We understand what the crowd can do for a team. We need home field advantage next season.”

“We will get this right next year,” Darrian Newton, our other captain, agreed. We dressed, packed our things and headed for the buses. We were taking a red-eye charter back to St. Louis that evening.

I arrived at my apartment around five in the morning. I went straight to bed and didn’t get up until a little after noon that Sunday. I spent the afternoon packing and cleaning my apartment. I wanted things in decent shape when I came back in April or May for the team’s first OTA.

I headed in Monday morning to clean out my locker and pick up my final paycheck. A lot of the team members were in doing the same thing as me. The mood was somber. We all said good bye and see you in April. That would be true for many, though not all of us.

I was learning how brutal and unforgiving professional football was. I was one of twenty-three rookies who started with the team last April. Five of us rookies made the roster and two more stuck around on the practice squad. Twenty-some draftees, unsigned free agents and free agents from other teams were likely to join us. Some of us would not be returning to the Rams when we started OTAs in April. That’s the business I am in.

I had one more piece of business to complete before I could go home for a well-deserved vacation. I needed to do a check-out physical with our trainers and team physicians. The physical wasn’t what you would imagine. The trainer pulled out a folder with all my ailments since I joined the team at the end of April.

“How is the jammed left pinkie?” “Fine” “How’s the ankle sprain?” “Fully healed, no problem at all.” “Bruised ribs?” “Ham string?” “Dislocated right ring finger?”

The trainers read off each of the many minor ailments they treated me for during the pre-season and season. I acknowledged that the maladies had healed. I had to sign a release of liability for the Rams after I agreed each had healed. It was a depressingly long list of ailments for someone who hadn’t missed a snap all season.

I stopped by and said goodbye to Coach Moore and Coach Davis before I left. I stopped off at UPS and shipped some boxes home. I planned to travel light when I headed home tomorrow. I stopped in at the apartment complex’s office and made sure all my bills were sent to my financial planners in Lancaster so I stayed current with any bills.

I took Dylan Harris and his wife, Beth, out to dinner to thank them for everything they did for me this season. Dylan had been a good leader and a great friend. I followed Dylan and Beth home. Dylan agreed to look after my car over the winter while I was in Pennsylvania. He drove me home after I parked my car at his house.

“Thanks for dinner tonight, Andrew,” Dylan said as he pulled to a stop in front of my building.

“It was my pleasure,” I replied. “I am glad the Rams drafted me. I hoped I would get to work with a good quarterback. I won the jackpot. I got to work with an elite quarterback, even if the rest of the league hasn’t figured that out about you yet.”

“I don’t know if you knew but the Rams tried hard to grab your brother two years ago,” Dylan said. “When you became available, we determined that we would not miss again. Everyone wondered if you could match your brother’s abilities and production. You may not have matched him ... yet, but we know you will. He’s got three years’ experience now and you don’t. We didn’t waste our first round draft pick this year.”

“I appreciate you saying that, Dylan,” I replied.

“I’ll see you in April,” Dylan answered. “Take good care of your boys.”

I hopped out and waved goodbye as he drove off.

My taxi had me to the airport in plenty of time for my 11:30 AM flight to Charlotte. I spent ninety minutes on the ground in Charlotte before catching my flight to Harrisburg. We touched down at 4:22 PM, right on time. I grabbed my carry-on bag and headed down the concourse. My phone rang about thirty seconds after I got off the plane.

“Where are you, Andy?” Dad asked.

“In the concourse, heading for baggage claim,” I answered.

“Do you have many bags?” Dad asked as I continued walking. “Should I bring the car around so it is easier to load them?”

“No,” I said, laughing. “I’m traveling light today. I have nothing but carry-on.”

“Good, we might make it home in time for supper,” Dad said. “You mom is holding supper a half hour to give us a shot as joining her and the boys.”

“Cool!” I answered. “See you in a few.”

Dad and I hugged when I reached the end of the hallway leading to Baggage Claim.

“Did you have a good flight?” Dad asked as we headed for the parking lot.

“I did.”

“I’m sorry about how your game turned out Saturday night,” Dad offered.

“We learned a lot of lessons from the loss,” I said. “We’ll come back next year, better prepared for the playoffs.”

“I’m sure you will,” Dad agreed. “Let’s go find the car. Mom’s making pot roast for dinner. We don’t want to miss it.”

“My favorite,” I replied. “I owe Mom a big hug and kiss when we get home.”

Dad and I stepped out of the terminal. I was unprepared for the big piles of snow everywhere around the roads and parking lots. South central Pennsylvania got hammered with a dozen inches of snow last Wednesday night. My boys were off from school on Thursday. Dad saw my shock.

“You know the little snow the boys told you about last night?” Dad said. “The snow flurries turned into a full-blown blizzard after the boys went to bed. It poured down snow last night from about nine o’clock until after 1:00 AM. Sixteen inches total.”

“This scene reminds me of that storm when I was a senior in high school,” I replied. “You remember it. They closed schools for half the week. The boys were still toddlers.”

“I remember that one,” Dad said. “You, your brother, his girlfriend, Liz and the whole neighborhood of kids were out on the hill by Stoltzfus’ pasture – morning, afternoon and half the night for a whole week.”

“I seem to remember you and Mom out on the hill every day too,” I teased. Dad gave me a sheepish grin.

“It was a lot of fun.”

“Everything shut down for that storm,” I asked. “How in the world did they get everything cleared so you could pick me up?”

“Timing,” Dad answered. “They had four days to clear the first twelve inches of snow. Roads were pretty good by the time the second storm hit last night. I have to give the road crews credit. They came by our house around ten o’clock last night. They kept after the snow as it fell. Roads were pretty good by morning. All the schools closed anyway. A lot of businesses closed too. It was murder getting my excavator in today to clear my parking lot. He didn’t finish until two o’clock this afternoon.”

“Snow or no snow, it is good to be home.”

The drive down I-283 wasn’t bad. The salt on the road kept roads slushy instead of icy. Traffic moved along well. Dad pulled into our driveway about ten minutes before six. The boys must have been watching for me from inside the front door. I barely made it out of the car before I was tackled by 120 pounds of ecstatic boys, delighted to finally have their father home again.

The boys and I exchanged frantic hugs and kisses before hustling inside. It was January and cold. I gave Mom a big hug and kiss too. Her pot roast with dumplings, carrots and onions was exquisite. She made chocolate cake for dessert in honor of my birthday three days earlier. I certainly felt the love from my family by the time dinner was over.

“Daddy, you going to come sledding with us?” Connor demanded as he finished his cake.

“You got to come sledding with us, Daddy,” Noah insisted. “Please?” both begged.

“I guess I can do that,” I agreed.

“Save some time for your mother and I,” Dad said. “We need to go over some things with you.”

“You boys may sled until eight o’clock,” Mom added. “It’s baths and bedtime after that. Understood?”

“Yes, Mom-Mom,” and “Yes, Mom,” came back from Noah, Connor and Hunter immediately. The boys understood about following Mom’s orders. You disobeyed at your peril.

I found some old winter clothes to wear for the evening. I also found out I would be making a trip to buy more clothing. The Rams trainers had done their job making me bigger and stronger.

I think half the kids in Paradise were out on Stoltzfus’ Hill that night. The younger ones, such as my boys and little brother, came with an accompanying parent or two. Pre-teens, middle schoolers, and teens, they were all there having fun in the snow.

I was surprised at how few kids I recognized. There were eleventh and twelfth graders there but I didn’t know any of them. I thought back to the youngest kids I knew well from when I was in high school, the scouts in my New Scout Patrol when I was a troop guide.

Wesley Baer came bouncing over to us when we reached the hilltop. Wes was on the same football team as my boys last fall. He was the younger son of Justin Baer, a close friend, a leader in my Venturer crew and assistant coach on my high school team. I sent the four boys take off down the hill without dragging “old dad” along.

Gary Harrison had been in my patrol. Gary was recruited and had signed to play with Boston College. Nate Trimble was out in Indiana. He was a preferred walk-on at Notre Dame, hoping to follow in the footsteps of his brother-in-law, Jeremy North.

Finally, I spotted two kids trudging back up the hill that I did know – Billy Baer and Brian Miller. Billy was Wes’ older brother. I had dated Brian’s Aunt Heather when we were in middle school and starting high school.

Even these two familiar faces reminded me of how old I was getting. They had been ball-boys on my high school football team. They might have come halfway up to my chest then. Now Billy had to be close to six feet tall. Brian wasn’t much shorter. They should be thirteen or so and they clearly hit puberty. They had the skinny look that said there wasn’t enough food in the world to keep them fed.

“Hey, Andy!” Billy shouted as he spotted me.

“Good to see you, Andy,” Brian added. I told them about playing in the NFL as the boys questioned me. They promised me they always cheered for my Rams whenever they could find us on TV. I quizzed the boys about Scouts. They proudly told me they were both receiving their Star badges at the Court of Honor in a couple weeks. I would need to go visit my old troop and say hi to everyone.

Billy and Brian split just as Wes, Noah, Connor and Hunter came back to the top of the hill. The twins insisted I had to ride the toboggan down with them. We did run after run. We had a blast. I didn’t pay attention to the time until Billy came to take his brother, Wes, home. I glanced at my watch. It was 8:02 PM.

“Get your stuff, guys,” I announced. “It’s time to go home.”

“One more run,” Hunter begged.

“Please, Daddy, one more run,” Noah and Connor added.

“We are late,” I said as I showed them my watch. “What is Mom-Mom going to say?”

Connor gave me a sly grin and said, “Mom-Mom, Daddy said it was OK if we stayed out later.”

“Oh, that is how it is,” I replied. “Throw Daddy under the bus. Let’s go now! I don’t want Mom-Mom to give me a time out the first night I’m home.” The boys were having fun but knew not to push harder. They gathered up the sleds and toboggan and we headed home.

“Strip off your wet things inside the back door,” I directed when we reached home. “Go straight upstairs for your baths. No arguments and no dawdling. Is that clear, boys.” The boys listened and hustled upstairs. Mom glanced at the clock and raised her eyebrows when I stepped into the kitchen after them.

“They will be in bed at 8:30,” I guaranteed. Mom gave me a skeptical look. I hurried upstairs and kept the boys moving. They were bathed, dressed in their jammies with teeth brushed by 8:28. I sat down with the three. Noah, Connor and I took turns reading their bedtime story. I headed downstairs when the boys were settled.

Mom and Dad were in the living room. “You said you wanted to talk,” I said as I took a seat.

“You’re twenty-three years old and gainfully employed,” Dad said. “You mother and I thought it would be appropriate for all of us to come to an understanding.”

“I agree,” I said. “I think I should pay rent for living here. It’s only fair.”

“That’s not what we’re looking for,” Dad replied. “Your mother and I aren’t looking for money. We want to talk about a division of responsibilities among the adults in this family.”

“OK,” I agreed.

“I don’t want a son who sleeps until noon,” Mom explained. “Lay around the house and watch movies and play computer games. I don’t want that.” I laughed.

“Mom, I’m not fourteen anymore,” I said. “I’d go batty if I lived the way you described. I plan to call Millersville [University] and F&M [Franklin & Marshal College] tomorrow. I want to see if they have MBA programs. I’d like to start working on that in my off-season time.”

“That’s good,” Dad said.

“I can help around the house too,” I offered. “I know Kyle used to make dinners for the family when he was home for break. I’d be happy to do that, if you want me to.”

“A break once in a while would be nice,” Mom said. “I don’t need you to take over and make dinner every night. I do need you to do your own laundry.”

“Laundry?” I said. “Sure. No problem. I don’t mind laundry. Do you want me to do it for the boys too? Heck ... I could probably do all the laundry. I will probably have more time during the day than you.”

“Why don’t you do the men’s clothing,” Mom suggested. “I will do the sheets, towels and my own things.”

“That’s cool,” I agreed. “Give me the schedule of when things need to be done and I’ll do them.”

“Agreed,” Mom said. “Let’s talk about the boys’ schedules. It is going to be a Godsend to have another driver around again. The boys’ schedules get more hectic every year.”

“OK.”

“I will continue to get the boys up and off to school,” Mom said. “I will continue to pick them up from day care. I need you to handle some of the other activities on their schedules. Your sons’ Tiger Den Meetings are Wednesday at 6:30 PM at our church. They have swim group at 4:00 PM on Fridays. PTA meetings are the second Tuesday.”

“It was tonight?” I asked.

“Tonight’s meeting was cancelled since school was cancelled today,” Mom said. “The Cub Pack meets on the fourth Tuesday each month. The second quarter of the school year ended a couple days ago. I took the liberty of lining up your appointments with Noah and Connor’s teachers for your parent-teacher conferences.”

“That’s fine,” I agreed.

“Your appointment with Mrs. Herr for Noah is next Tuesday at 2:20 PM,” Mom said. “I assumed you weren’t so busy that you needed to have an evening appointment. Remember, she is Mrs. Herr now, not Miss Kendig like she was when you had her. She’s been married for ten years.”

“It will be strange to call her that but I think I’ll manage,” I said.

“I couldn’t get your appointment for Connor immediately after Noah’s conference,” Mom said. “You will have a twenty minute wait for Connor’s 3:00 PM conference with Miss Beiler.”

“Miss Beiler?” I asked. “I don’t think I know her.” Mom laughed.

“You wouldn’t,” Mom said. “She took over from Mrs. Witmer when Mrs. Witmer retired a year and a half ago.”

“OK, that’s cool,” I said. “I guess you have all of this on the family calendar on the refrigerator. Are you going to put driving assignments on all the appointments so we can know who is responsible for which?”

“That would work,” Mom agreed.

“One other topic, Andrew,” Dad said. “I know you have been living on your own for nine months. Your mother and I aren’t trying to tell what you may do or where you may go but we would appreciate it if you would let us know when you will return.”

“That’s just common courtesy, Dad,” I replied. “Of course, I will let you know my plans. Is there anything else?”

“No, that’s it,” Dad replied. I headed upstairs to settle in my old room.

I overheard Mom ask quietly, “Who was that man and what did he do with my son, Andy?” I stopped near the top of the steps as Dad laughed.

“This discussion went a whole lot better than we anticipated. I think we did a pretty decent job raising him.”

“That irresponsible boy who got his girlfriend pregnant does seem to be long gone,” Mom answered. “Thank goodness.”

I headed to my room, letting my parents have their privacy. I couldn’t disagree at all with Mom’s description of me at fifteen. My irresponsibility back then had forced me to grow up too soon. I did my best to try to live up to my parents’ expectations. I’m glad they think I’m doing OK at it.

I woke up in time to wish my boys well before they headed for school. I went on-line after breakfast to search for the nearest decent MBA program. Millersville and Franklin and Marshall did not offer the programs. The three nearest I found were at Penn State’s Harrisburg campus, at my University of Delaware and down in Philadelphia at the Wharton School. A Wharton School MBA was prestigious but they seemed less flexible with part-time and distance learners.

Penn State had an evening program for learners with full-time jobs. I would need to travel to campus for classes. Wouldn’t my brother Kyle be pissed at me if I enrolled at Penn State after my four years of athletic eligibility were up? He had spent two years trying to get me to join him and play football for the Nittany Lions.

The University of Delaware had the most intriguing offering. They allowed you to do the entire degree on-line. My being an alum and knowing some of the business professors from my undergraduate studies, I suspected I might be able to do some in-persons classes to go with the on-line courses. That could fit my schedule best. I decided a trip to Newark was in order the next day.

I called Pro Train Sports and lined up an appointment with Steve Sanderson, the owner and head trainer of the gym. I wanted to do my off-season training through Steve. Max Solomon, my agent, had lined up Steve to help me prepare for the NFL Combine last winter and Steve knew me. He had the facilities that would allow me to stay in peak physical condition during my vacation from the Rams.

I headed to the mall after lunch and spent a couple hours buying new clothes that would fit me properly and looked proper for an adult, rather than a teen. Mom was prompt with supper so Noah, Connor and I could make it to their Tiger Cub den meeting by 6:30 PM. The boys looked sharp in their blue uniforms with orange caps.