Gunslinger
Copyright© 2006 R. Michael Lowe aka The Scot
Chapter 1
Kevin McKinsey looked up at the bulletin board that hung just inside the main entrance of his high school. Posted on the board were this morning’s sports articles. The headline from the Birmingham paper read: Gunslinger Plays with Loaded Forty-five. As he read the accompanying article he was hit by a strange mixture of pride and humility.
To those people who weren’t football fans in the State of Alabama this headline would’ve been very misleading, but this was part of the hype preceding the state championship game scheduled to be played that night in Birmingham. The game featured a perennial powerhouse from Dothan and Kevin’s team from the normally mediocre Ft McClellan (Ft Mac) High School in Anniston.
The article itself covered the awesome passing statistics of Kevin, whose nickname was ‘Gunslinger’ and the exploits of his best friend, Jamar Pickney, whose jersey number forty-five was the other half of the headline. The two of them together had averaged over six hundred and fifty yards a game during this, their senior year.
Now, to many, Kevin’s reaction might seem strange, but his pride was in his team and in the exploits of his best friend. Kevin himself was very atypical of the traditional sports hero. First, he was extremely intelligent, scoring over fifteen hundred on his SAT. Second, he didn’t see himself as someone special, but was just someone doing his job. Of course he did enjoy winning, but primarily because it was a way of measuring his performance. Beyond that, he tried as much as possible to be a normal student, friendly and pleasant to everyone. While Kevin turned away from the bulletin board he heard his coach calling from down the hall.
“Kevin, I’ve some people in the teacher’s conference room who’d like to talk to you.”
“Coach, I’ve French this period.”
“I know. Missus LaRue is aware and has given you an excused absence. In fact, when I asked her if you’d miss anything she laughed and said you already spoke French better than she did.”
Kevin laughed, and said, “Well, it didn’t hurt that Dad was stationed there for almost four years.”
Coach Bryson led his star quarterback down the hall, asking, “Speaking of your Dad, is the Colonel going to be at the game tonight?”
“Yes, Sir. He’s flying in to B’ham this afternoon, and going directly to Legion Field. If I can, I’d like to ride home with him after the game.”
“Son, I don’t see a problem with that. You get to see him little enough, as it is.”
“I know, but staying with Sergeant Pickney and his family isn’t bad. I’ve Jamar, and the rest of the family treat me well.”
Just before they entered the room Coach asked, “Does it ever seem strange to have a black family be your guardians?”
“Coach, Sergeant Pickney worked with my Dad for more than twenty years, and Jamar and I even shared the same playpen. Since Mom died eight years ago, and all of Dad’s travel these past few years, they’ve been my family. I never think about the color of their skin, just about the love and respect they’ve shown me.”
In the conference room Kevin was introduced to two men and a woman, all of them stood when Kevin and Coach Bryson entered. The older of the two men looked to be around forty-five and was dressed in tan slacks, a white shirt with a maroon tie, and a camel hair blazer. The younger man was dressed in black slacks, and a LL Bean pullover sweater. The woman was in her early thirties, blond, and wore a Navy blue skirt and blazer, a white oxford blouse, and a burnt orange scarf around her neck for accent. It was obvious she’d done her homework wearing Auburn University’s colors. Kevin had already committed to accept their offer of a scholarship.
“Kevin,” as Coach introduced the people who waited to shake his hand, “this beautiful young lady is Alicia Clotfelter with ESPN. Next is Robert Armstrong of Sports Illustrated, and finally Geoff Palmer of Fox Sports. With your permission, they’d like to interview you.”
After giving his coach a look of frustration Kevin tried to be pleasant to the people who’d traveled a great distance to learn more about him.
Ms Clotfelter seemed to sense his discomfort and asked, “Kevin, do you have a problem with this, or are you just shy?”
“Honestly, I am uncomfortable with this, but probably not for the reasons you think. As far as I’m concerned it’s the rest of the team you should be interviewing. If they didn’t do their jobs I’d be just another high school quarterback hoping for a scholarship offer somewhere.”
Mr Armstrong replied, “Kevin, that’s really why we’d like to get to know you and to introduce you to our readers. You’re the antithesis of every stereotypical high school jock any of us have ever heard of. I think, for that reason alone, the interviews would be worthwhile. When you add to that your phenomenal statistics, it’ll make our readers and listeners want to learn about the real Kevin McKinsey.”
The young man from Fox added, “Kevin, I agree with Robert, but it’s more than that. You’re like the ‘kid next door’ to people. You’re accessible, humble, and genuinely care about more than just football. In addition, from what I’ve learned, you’re intelligent enough to go to school anywhere, even without football. This makes you ‘good news’ compared to so many out there who are bullies, trouble makers, and borderline gangsters.”
Kevin thought for a moment, and then slowly nodded while he asked, “Okay, but how will we work this. I’m missing one class this morning, but I don’t want to spend all day doing interviews.”
Alicia replied, “Your principal said the same thing. What we’ve proposed is a joint conference with only two camera people placed in the far corners of the room. We’ll just have a casual discussion, and then share the results between us. Would that be acceptable?”
“Yes, Ma’am. I don’t see a problem with that. Though I do have some limitations I’d like to impose.”
Robert Armstrong looked concerned and puzzled as he asked, “And they are?”
“First, if the subject comes up, no one says anything about my father other than that he was in the Army. Second, no pictures of our home, or anything about where I live while my father is away. Finally, I want nothing said about my social life. I’ve a very precious girlfriend, and she deserves her privacy.”
The reporter from Fox looked at the others, and then said, “Kevin, we’ve no problem with that, but why the restrictions about your father and your living arrangements?”
“My father is an investigator with CID, the criminal investigative division of the Army, and often times has to work undercover. I don’t want anything said by you that could put his life or career in jeopardy. As for the other, while my father is traveling I stay with his old sergeant and his family. Even though we’ve progressed a lot in this state, there would be some out there who might respond negatively to me staying with a black family.”
Geoff replied, “Kevin, your reasons are obvious and acceptable. We’ll do nothing to compromise any of the three relationships.”
With that agreement two camera crews were quickly brought in and microphones were placed in front of each of the four, and tested. Finally, a makeup person worked with each of them for a few moments.
When the interview began Alicia introduced everyone to the audience and gave some overall statistics of Kevin’s high school career.
Turning to the young quarterback she asked, “Kevin, are you nervous?”
“Yes, Ma’am. I still can’t figure out what all the fuss is about. It’s my teammates that enable me to do what I do. They’re the real stars of this team.”
Geoff responded, “Well, I talked to most of your teammates after practice yesterday, and their opinion is a little different. To a man, they said it’s an honor just to be on the field with you. In fact, I got the distinct impression they’d follow you into Hell. Their feeling is that without you and Jamar, they wouldn’t even have a winning season, much less be playing for the state championship. As for Jamar, he says you’re so good everyone keys on you. He just has to wait for you to put the ball in his hands.”
Kevin replied, “Well, if you believe all that, then I’d like to talk to you about some property in New Orleans.”
Everyone laughed at Kevin’s obvious joke.
“Kevin,” responded Mr Armstrong, “I spent yesterday reviewing the films of your season. I have to be honest, I’ve never seen anyone, even in the pros who seemed to sense where everyone was on the field. Have you even been sacked this year?”
“No, Sir, but I came close many times, and I have the bruises to prove it.”
“Also, I’ve never seen anyone with the throwing touch you have. Whether it’s across the middle, or long down the sidelines, the ball seems to have eyes. From what I could see, the only interceptions you had were tipped balls, and the only incompletes were dropped balls or obvious throwaways. What do you attribute this to?”
“I guess most of it’s practice. I’ve thrown to Jamar almost everyday since I was seven or eight years old. This past summer I worked-out with all our receivers for more than two hours everyday. Of course, that was unofficial and none of the coaches were there. Jamar and I also spent a week at one of Auburn’s camps for high-school athletes. They were able to help both of us immensely in fine-tuning our patterns and our play fakes.”
Alicia responded, “And clearly the effort has paid off. Now, tell us about Kevin McKinsey. We know your father is in the Army and your mother died several years ago of cancer. Has growing up like that been hard on you?”
Tears could be seen in the corner of Kevin’s eyes when he replied, “I have to be honest and say I miss my Mom, a lot. She was a beautiful and very loving woman who created in me a hunger for reading and learning that’s still there today. As for my Dad, I’ve a great relationship with him, and we’ve been together for most of the time since Mom’s death. I even went with him when he was stationed in Europe, so it’s only in the past twenty months when he has been gone more than normal. Fortunately, he only has another eleven months before retirement. He plans on being there for every game I play at Auburn.”
Robert Armstrong asked, “Kevin, if it’s not asking too much, why Auburn? With your grade point average and your SAT scores you could have gone anywhere in the country, football or no football.”
“I guess it’s mostly because of the unique spirit I found when I visited the school. My Dad, Mom, and I actually started going to their games when I was around five, and, except when we were overseas, we’ve missed very few of their home games. Other than West Point I don’t think I ever considered any other school.”
“Have you picked out a major?” Alicia asked.
“I plan on getting a double major in criminal justice and military science. I expect to make the Army my career, though I’d like to study law sometime in the future.”
Surprised at this revelation Geoff Palmer asked, “What about professional football? With your abilities surely you have to be thinking about that.”
“Mister Palmer, while I may change my mind in the future, it’s presently not in any of my plans.”
Looking at his watch Kevin announced, “I’m sorry, but we’ve about five minutes before the bell rings. I think we’ve time for one more question.”
Geoff replied, “Then I’m going to go after the question that’s bugged me since I first heard about you. How did you get the nickname ‘Gunslinger’?”
The other two reporters added, “Thanks, Geoff. I think that’s a question we’d all like to have answered.”
“Well, it actually goes back to before my mother died. My Dad was off somewhere and a friend of his found a pair of the old Mattel Shooting Shell cap pistols, along with a bunch of the bullets, plastic tips and stick on caps. They’d belonged to his son who’d been killed in Vietnam. After talking to Dad he passed them on to me to enjoy. I was fascinated with them and even learned to work with leather so I could make my own ‘fast draw’ holster. Of course, I got my Mom to help me. I’d play with them in my room for hours, drawing and shooting at cardboard targets.
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