Chapter 48

Jared Winslows Saturday morning wake-up call was for 6 a.m. That gave him plenty of time to get up and get his pre-game prep done over coffee and then go down to meet the bus and then the team for the ride to "The Trop". Friday's practice, work-out and subsequent video and blackboard session left he and the team confident that they knew how to compete with and beat Florida International. The only thing he worried about, and he spent the last 30 minutes of their session talking about it, was the home field advantage that FIU would enjoy. He stressed "taking the crowd OUT of it".

As he dreamed in his deep sleep he fantasized of a beautiful woman devoting her oral talents to his cock and balls. She placed little kisses on his balls and then would take the whole length of him into her mouth, working her tongue to please him. Soon the sensations became all too real, too pleasurable to be a dream as he began to wake up to the realization that Meaghan was giving him the wake-up call of his life.

"Oh my God, you naughty minx, where do you get such nasty thoughts?" He asked groggily through the morning slits of his eyes.

She smiled around the penis in her mouth before pushing her face into his pubic bone and then coming up to speak.

"You made love to me so sweetly last night I won't be able to even wear panties, my pussy is so tender and charged. You came once last night, and you'll cum again in a few minutes. I came 6 or 7 times last night, so I have to catch you up." She said holding his cock to her lips, almost like a microphone.

She fit her mouth over him again and added one hand to the base of his shaft and the other to cradle his balls as she shifted her position to between his legs now that he was awake. Her hands and mouth were quickly bringing him to his climax. These few minutes before shooting, once orgasm became inevitable, were what he enjoyed most about sex. Whether cooking his cum load in her mouth, pussy, or tight asshole, the sensations of ensuing climax were nirvana. He almost felt his orgasm started at his brainstem and merrily rode a pleasure cruise down his body until he spurt it forth.

Closing his eyes and shuddering, sighing and moaning his pleasure, all led up to the little hitch he put in his knees and hips before blast-off. Meg knew the program well as she softened her lips and tongue and added a bit more pressure with her thumb on the prominent vein running up his length. His breath catches and his neck buckles as he softly growls as his balls send his thick syrup into her mouth and stomach and the nerve endings in the head of his shaft intensify. Gently sucking pressure and running her tongue over and over the crown, she knows what pleases him. When she finally knows his font has subsided she gives it up, kissing the tip, and laying it on his stomach as she clears her mouth to move up to kiss him, whispering "I love you". He pulls her tightly to his body, her bare breasts pressing to his hairy chest as he runs his hands down her back to fill them with the round globes of her bottom.

"No matter what happens today, I'm always winning if I have you here. You are my rock, my reason." He whispers.

She smiles and hugs him contentedly, wishing she never had to let go. Coach Winslow's Bowl day had begun.

Every player, every coach, every person who had anything to do with the game, and especially a game on the road, tried to handle this game as they did any other of NEAT's road games, but there was no denying that there was something special going on. They all realized that it wasn't exactly the Rose Bowl, or any kind of National Championship game, but, it was recognition for their team, their school, and their players. There were local New England sports writers who thought of some of the keystone members of the NEAT squad could easily play in any D-1 program. Today they hoped they could prove it.

All year long it was thought in the ESPN and other "big sports" circles that the Green Aggies were a gimmick team. A team that used female players, the Welsh soccer player turned kicker, and the bad boy running back phenom to make its way to the headlines. While FIU was no Big Ten powerhouse they were consistently a team that was well put together that could rival any D-1 squad with the "any given Sunday" theory. Out of their division, they would not embarrass themselves. Some name writers and analyst wouldn't even talk about NEAT for those "gimmick" reasons and quietly said that FIU would drub them and send The Aggies home embarrassed.

For those reasons Coach Winslow held another private meeting, as he had previously had done before their first game against real competition. The team was battle tested now, but they could come out trying to over-impress and get caught sleeping on one front or another and have to battle back early. When you're down and have to "battle back", it means you're going off your game plan, and that's a recipe for failure.

As players queued up for the bus Ann Comeche went through the line picking out players who "needed a new head shot taken for their video profile for TV. Your school photo is too dark or light." She brought the players into a small Hotel office off the lobby.

There sat Coach Winslow as the four she picked, Boge Hollins, Jazz Carey, Kemmer Brooks and Tim Waters filed into the room with Ann clicking the door shut behind the last one.

"Gentlemen, we're having that same meeting again. This time we have a tested and true team, but after some of the criticism we've taken they may try to prove a bit more than they have to. So, once again, this meeting is closed and confidential. Jazz, if they win the toss they'll want the ball to start the game, at least they did that all season long. If we win the toss, we'll give it to them. In that defensive huddle you need to emphasize staying within themselves. There are no individuals on the field, just a team. Claxton may be the best pass defender on the field, but if he gets beat he may try the retribution tackle. That leads to mistakes. Remind him on the field that where the chain marks the ball is what he should worry about, not how hard he hit the receiver. If mistakes are made I'm going to rip the snot out of you on the sideline, you don't transfer it until the huddle. Got it?" Coach emphasized.

"No problem Coach. Lots of back pats, no panic. I know the drill." Jazz replied knowing exactly what Coach wanted.

"Now for the offense, I'm going to run this the same way we ran it back at the start. Whenever and wherever we get the ball we run at them 3 times, Boge, Boge, Boge. Kem, I expect you to be blocking with all you have. If we get the first down, Kem you're going to go wide with hopes of turning the corner and busting for some yards. Then we run Boge, Boge until we get a first down or punt. I'm not sending a pass play in until the third set. When I do Timmy, they'll be short slants to you, a couple of them so Marv gets his feet wet. Then we'll go to our regular game plan.

Let's work at staying within ourselves. No matter what the score is, we don't change the game plan. If we get down even by 3 scores, we patch the defense and wait for the offense to catch up, they always do. You guys are my leaders and I expect you to keep everyone's head in this game. Losing this game is not the end of the world, however losing respect won't look good for any of us or the University. You know and I know we can win this game." Coach said finishing with a steeled eye and a convincing pointed finger that waved slowly like a gun site over the 4.

"You'll get a game Coach!" Boge shouted as the four joined arms at the shoulder in a sign of unity.

The team went through a normal pre-game, feeling to many that they were home. There was no long travel by bus or plane that day, they rolled out of bed and went to the Stadium. Knowing FIU didn't play their games here made the playing field seem to lose its tilt, despite the home fan support. There were, however, decidedly more media, even though it was not one of the "big" bowl games, it was one of only two on this day, so there was a large college football audience. Also there was a chance that they might really see a female playing, and playing well, amongst the men. Even on this day, when Jared was filled with pride over his team and he was questioned about the co-ed nature of his team, he couldn't wait until June Bogue got a chance to play next year. He felt she could mean big things for his team, and for herself.

Once the team finished full pad run-throughs on the field and were prepped to start the game they made their last trip to the locker-room to use the toilet, adjust gear to game ready levels and get their last instruction.

Coach Winslow stood at a podium in the front of the room, much as he would at home, with his staff right behind. He didn't call for attention, he just stood and waited. When the last player was settled in front of his locker, the room went silent.

"I don't believe there are any words I can say that can inspire any of you to any greater heights than we've achieved this year. If you feel half the pride I do for each and every one of you, I know you're ready for this game today. Think one play ahead, listen to your captains on the field and your coaches when you come to the sidelines. Walk on and off this field today the same way, win or lose, with pride. If you lined up the whole of the NCAA on the first day of camp and told them we would be playing in a Holiday bowl game there would have been a pretty big laugh. But I took you seriously and you took yourselves seriously. Have a good time out there today and do yourself proud. You are all so far beyond any and all expectations ... Can we all bow our heads? Dear God, be with us in this game today. We pray for courage to face and conquer our own fears, and for your protection from injuries. Lord, I ask for strength to play to the best of my ability, and for strength of spirit to be a leader to others. May I be strong and triumphant over those who try to stand in our way. Please guide the coaches in making wise choices and help them be the kind of leaders you would have them be. Amen" Coach said with a bowed head of conviction.

Boge Hollins started a chant of "click — click — click" as he put on his helmet and strode to the door with Jazz Carey and stood at each side of the door as the players went out to queue up and wait to run onto the field.

With precisely 12 minutes before the kick-off New England Ag and Tech broke through the crepe paper logo ring and charged to the field. FIU followed from the other side of the field and with precisely 7 minutes to kick-off the captains met at mid-field for the ceremonial coin-toss. FIU had won the toss and were going to take the ball to start the game. Coaches waved little clipboards to staff as they pulled headsets up onto their heads and the teams assembled on the field. Once the red TV light went out the referee nodded to Brian Faraday and his foot put the ball in the end-zone as the FIU return specialist caught the ball and looked like he might try to run it out, but he chose to let his team start on the 20 yard line.

FIU hit the middle twice with runs of 1 and 5 yards. On third down they tried a fake draw with the Quarterback rolling left and hoping to hit his tight end with a quick short pass, but Scott Claxton got a hand on the ball that needed to be pinpoint perfect.

Kemmer Brooks took a fair catch of the 38 yard FIU punt on their own 36 and the Green Aggie offense took the field. Marv Hudson already knew the first two plays, both 34 Trap. They were curious calls because both sent Kemmer out of the backfield, looking like a lead block for Boge, but the fullback slashes back through the 4 hole. Kemmer had prepared to be the lead blocker for Boge on this first set and right away it looked like Coach was making FIU think about an option or screen pass after a slight feint for a sweep. Using Boge's ability to change directions quickly, the Trap was successful all year for NEAT.

Boge slashed through for a 9 yard gain and with virtually no huddle, they ran the same play for another 5 yards to the FIU 49. Marv was sure a pass play would come in from the bench, but the switch of tight ends brought a 25 Trap to Kemmer. Boge sheers off at the snap as if leading a block through the 5 hole but the tight end ties up the outside linebacker as Boge passes him. The QB drops to pick up the other back as a blocker, but hands him the ball to slide out of the backfield in the vacated 5 hole. With the fullback appearing to run a pass pattern the other defensive backs can't commit to the run until it's too late. Brooks goes through for 7 yards and another first down. Simply the way the drop goes on this play determines how it unfolds when the arm of the QB and the speed of the Fullback are factored. It was a great call and executed perfectly, but now Marv wanted to let loose and go for broke.

As the huddle formed and Gerry Granahan came in from the bench with the play Marv Hudson had the feeling he was the only person in the stadium who didn't know what was going to come next. He always felt a frustration with the "safe" play calling of Coach Winslow. Marv felt the risk was worth it, but Coach had led them to a real successful season. Even before Tim Waters whispered "314 Pass, twins right, my number" Marv knew what the play was. It really was déjà vu and he knew it when Boge Hollins didn't look him in the eye when they bent into the huddle.

The 314 Twins Right lined both wide-outs on Marv's right and a tight end, Waters, on his left. Both backs stayed in the backfield to block. On the snap all 3 receivers sprint, stop, and cut hard left. The Quarterback takes his choice of open receiver. When Waters said "my number", Hudson knew what Coach wanted, and he delivered.

Marv back pedaled into the pocket of his two backs, looked right and then side stepped left to fire off a pass into the gut of Waters as he stepped out of bounds. Tim liked to get the ball a step early in case a defender attempted to dive in for an interception or tackle. A rocket from Marv Hudson's hand at this close distance was near impossible to touch as long as Tim had a half step on a defender. If the defender committed as such, Tim liked to pull up and try to sprint for extra yards until the defense caught him. That wouldn't be the case today as the ball him Waters cradling arms and he had to stab his toes in-bounds to be sure of a catch. Gain of 7, 2nd and 3.

The follow-up play was by rote of 2nd and less than five, same line-up, but it was a stand and throw play. Jordy Alford called it "long-distance hand-off". Marv took the snap and barely one full back-pedaled step and wrist-flicked a laser to Waters who had turned. The pass hit him so high in the chest that he lost his balanced but had the sense to do a little back-pedaling of his own as he got the first down while a frustrated defender tried to get an angle to knock him back, but it was too late.

First down and so the drill would begin. Eat up the clock and the ground until you get to a 4th down situation and let Brian Faraday do his thing. True to the coach's thinking, a few minutes later it was NEAT 3, FIU 0.

The NEAT defense played admirably throughout the first 2 quarters, but the ball control offense began to falter. With just under 2 minutes remaining in the half New England did have a 6-0 lead, but moving the ball had become arduous for the NEAT offense. Whether something had shown up in videos or if the eye in the sky had detected something, all of the sudden, holes were not opening for the running backs. The consistent 3,4, and 5 yard bursts by Boge Hollins were being shunted and when they tried to go to the air Marv wasn't finding open receivers and had become frustrated. Through all of this, Florida International had the ball more and more, giving them more opportunities to wear down what had been a stellar defense.

Coach Winslow was getting frustrated with both Frank Enfante and Roger Dorn in the booth. "They plug every hole we try to run at and cover our receivers like they're in the huddle, THEY AREN'T THAT GODDAM GOOD!! What are we missing?" He shouted impatiently.

"Maybe your play sequence in just getting too easy to read." Frank said, feeling the frustration himself.

"Listen Frank, half the teams in the NFL couldn't stop Boge Hollins this often. They're reading something!" Jared shouted back.

"I may have something." Roger Dorn chipped in. "I'm pretty good at some of this stuff and Boge may be tipping his plays, Marv too."

"Well, it's 3rd and 6 on my own 24 and I'm sending in a 33 Lead hoping Kemmer can open a hole for Boge. I don't want to have to punt with under 30 seconds in the half!" Winslow said as he nodded to Gerry Granahan who would run the play call in to Marv.

"Tell him LONG COUNT, LONG COUNT!" Roger Dorn shouted as Jared stepped out towards Granahan as he began to trot to the huddle.

Long counts were a good ploy against undisciplined lines, but the FIU squad was tight and well coached, but Jared would try anything to break their rhythm.

Gerry whispered into the ear hole on Marv's helmet as the huddle formed and they quickly broke to line up. Marv started his cadence, paused, and restarted with Florida not flinching.

Dorn started shouting to Coach Winslow "TIME OUT, TIME OUT!!"

Confused and wanting to question his order, Jared implored the ref just in front of him watching the backfield.

"TIME, Ref, TIME!! Ref!" Jared shouted.

A big blow on the whistle and a frantic arm wave stopped play just as Marv was to re-start his cadence, leaving a confused quarterback looking up at his coach as Jared waved him to the sidelines.

As the commotion of the late called time-out played through in front of him, Roger Dorn was explaining in Jared's ear.

"Boge is telegraphing at the line. On that play Boge went into his "set" with his forearms on his thighs, he's done that every time he's got the ball today. There's something wrong with him, he's not thinking!" Dorn said through the headphones.

As Marv Hudson came over to the bench to see what the coaches called the time out for Jared turned to see his bench rotation knowing Junior Contralco was near.

"Contralco, in for Hollins!" Coach shouted as Junior popped to his feet and had his helmet pulled three quarters down already before stopping beside Jared for instructions.

"You know all of Boge's numbers, right?" He barked as Contralco nodded. "Go!"

Marv Hudson looked confused at what he just saw, thinking maybe Junior was going in for him and had a questioning look as he got to Coach Winslow with his helmet pulled up like an open hood on a sports car.

"Any sign Hollins is hurt?" Coach asked

"No. He's cracking the line as hard as ever. They're just meeting him there, like they're in the huddle, getting good reads." Marv said, knowing the familiar crack of the pads and the grunts that come from the inner line.

Boge Hollins stormed up right behind Marv with a protest in his voice.

"Coach, what is it? What's wrong?" Boge said knowing something was up. His number was never checked out in a position like this.

Instinctively, one of the trainers came over when he saw Hollins come off and Jared snapped at him. "Get Hollins in the clubhouse and ice his shins, then wrap them!"

Coach Jared knew why Boge Hollins mind was not 100 per cent in the game. He had shin splints and was hiding it. While he valiantly tried to perform, his mind didn't have the discipline to tell his body to act normal, while he still played through the pain as his shins nagged loudly in his head. When he lined up, knowing he was about to get the ball, he was girding himself for the painful charge at the line, and it showed when he lined up.

Boge hadn't heeded Coaches warnings at practice on the artificial surface, to start slowly and let your legs get accustomed to the hard surface underfoot. He had been gung-ho to set the example, lead his mates. He wasn't accustomed to the hard surface and that caused the problem and playing through the pain could only make it worse, sometimes even causing a stress fracture in the shin.

"Coach, I can PLAY! Don't do this to me!" Boge hollered back as trainers and assistants ushered him to the locker room.

Jared Winslow couldn't wait to talk to Hollins to be sure he knew that it wasn't anger that took him out of the game, it was concern for his well-being.

"Keep the same play, a 33 Lead, Brooks as fullback and Contralco his front. If you get the first down have a pre-call for Double Slots line up, Stand to Wide, Stop." Coach as with his arm around Marv and he nodded and then trotted back to his huddle.

Marv played it out in his head that they WOULD get the first down and then they would hurry to line up in a DOUBLE SLOTS formation with one WIDE receiver up right side. On the snap he STANDs and throws so the wide is the only person on the field who can catch the ball. Stop meant that they HAD to STOP the clock on the play, either let the ball go incomplete or catch it and fall out. Yardage made no difference, stopping the clock was paramount. It was a back of the book play from the play-book. No numbers, just words, all key words that everyone knew. No confusion here, no time to think about number assignments.

Florida anticipated Junior getting the ball and after Marv turned to him and pulled the ball back to punch it in Kemmer Brooks belly one FIU linebacker faded to Juniors hole and when the line opened Kemmer had 3 solid strides before being brought down with no measurement needed for the first down. NEAT lined up quickly leaving FIU scrambling a bit to get to set. The double slots confused them for a moment and on a quick count Marv stood and fired a little high, making Gerry Granahan jump to be sure he buried the ball in his body. He made sure to drag both feet as he landed and was hit out of bounds.

When Marv clapped his hands in the air he smiled and turned to the bench for his next call and Coach Winslow just nodded to him. It was to be Marv's call. He knew he had been stymied for much of the second quarter and he knew the booth had told Coach he tipped some plays.

In the huddle he realized he didn't have Boge there to nod to, he was totally on his own. Coach had trusted him. He felt proud and suddenly responsible for the team's success. He wanted to grab the brass ring.

He barked out for a 971 Pass along with the letters and numbers that would set his line for the execution he wanted. The 971 Pass is similar to a Clear Out Pass but the intention is not to take advantage of the middle zone that had been made clean, but to send the inside right wide out on a deep threat. The 971 Pass has three potential receivers all coming across the quarterback's line of vision at varying degrees of pattern depth. Defenders drawn out of the middle zone see where they have to pinch back to cover that zone thus leaving a flanker one on one with a safety. When that flanker is Tim Waters the Safety better be on his toes.

Prior to the snap the left side flanker goes into motion to start the defenders moving. On the snap that flanker sprints directly back over the middle while both far wide outs run button hook and fade routes. The pocket formed beautifully for Hudson and he back pedaled gazing left to right, knowing where Waters would be. He set his back foot as his weight hit his heel and he sprung his arm to cock and unload with his weight shift powering the ball and his strong wrist setting its course.

The Safety was 3 strides off Waters pace as he tried to catch up as the ball flew into Tim's hands like a hungry homing pigeon searching for its perch. Waters broke hard for the side line corner knowing if he were caught he wanted to get out. That wouldn't happen as the Safety over-anticipated the route and turned the wrong way. The half would end 13-0, New England Ag and Tech.

On his way off the field Coach Winslow was besieged with reporters asking why he had benched Boge Hollins so suddenly.

"He wasn't benched, it just became obvious that he was hurting, probably masking an injury. If you'll forgive me I really have to get down and see how he's doing." Coach said begging off abruptly.

He went straight to the trainer's room where they were working on him only to hear him holler.

"Coach, I can handle it. I HAVE TO BE OUT THERE!!" Boge shouted.

"Humphrey Hollins, I made a promise to you and your Dad, along with every other parent on this team that I would watch over their sons and daughters. I KNOW shin splints and I'm mad at myself for not seeing you lining up so unnaturally. You were bearing down on your thighs with your forearms and rocking back onto your heels when you had to run, hoping to avoid the flashes of pain when you plant and power forward. Your muscles are strong enough to cause a stress fracture in there somewhere. If you want a chance on getting back in the game today, you better answer me honestly. When did you first notice them, ... the pain?" Coach asked.

"When I did a little pick-up this morning to make the elevator. We were going down for breakfast. The door was just closing and did a little trot for 2 steps and I felt it for the first time. Then on the field in warm-ups it was bothersome, but not until I had to blast at the line did it become excruciating." Boge said, coming clean.

"What do you think?" Coach asked, turning to the trainers. "Ice him and wrap him for a bit and let him try it out for a few plays?"

"Well, we have the rest of the half-time for ice with them wrapped, and then we have to stretch those hammys and see how it feels. He won't be good for but a few offensive sets." The trainer said looking back to Boge, who didn't like the words he was hearing.

"Boge, we aren't going to push it. If you end up with a stress fracture, it's something that could bother you for the rest of your career. This is one game. Let's wait and see how it feels later. We have the lead. If it holds then all is well. You've come too far to do something stupid to ruin what you have, are we clear?" Coach said in a decisive, almost fatherly, tone.

It was the same tone he had used to convince him to leave Chicago and straighten out his life and Boge recognized it.

"I'm with you Coach. I may not like it, but I know you know what's right. I won't push it." Boge said giving in to Coach Winslow.

"OK, we tell the team he's fine, he just needs the ice. Get some uniform pants on him and into the locker room. The team needs to see he's OK. Uh, ... Boge you realize that when you lined up everyone in Florida knew you were getting the ball, holding yourself like you were about to walk across coals. When your head went out of the game and gave in to the pain, they read you like a book." Coach said giving instructions to the trainers and letting Boge know why he was stopped.

Jared went into a locker room that was cautiously jovial in spirit, knowing they had the lead, although not a big one, but worried about their meal ticket, Boge Hollins. Upon seeing Jared come out of the trainer's room they quieted down quickly.

"Boge will be here in a minute, it looks like he's just going to need some ice. Continue getting ready for the second half and I'll see you in a few minutes." Coach said as held up a clipboard in his fist to get their attention before he went to huddle with the coaching staff.

True to Coach's word Boge sauntered in a few minutes later, glad handing everyone. He didn't appear to walk with a limp, but as soon as he sat down they reapplied fresh cold packs on his tightly wrapped legs. Once the team settled down and all of the trainers and tapers left the room, the water and Gatorade cart finished it's run, and the din from the half-time show had faded, Coach Winslow stood before them.

"Well, this is the last time this year. It's a happy-sad occasion. We've accomplished so much and there's a little unfinished business out there. We stick to the game plan, stay within ourselves, and see how it works out. No matter what happens, there is no reason not to hold your head up. Keep doing what you've been doing in the first half. I'm not going to say any more than that. I've never been more proud of any team than I am of you. Let's go get 'em!" Coach said, not trying to burn a new strategy in their heads or newly discovered Achilles heel of their opponent.

Jared figured he had said it all, all during the year. During the first half they had built a lead and they knew what they had to do to keep it and win. When the double doors opened the players waited for Boge and Jazz Carey to move to the front and they each glad handed their team mates as they filed onto the field. Coach Winslow took up the rear and walked with his two captains onto the field.

"Boge, you let the trainers stretch your hammys out and I'll get you in as soon as I can. We can't let them know how bad you're hurt. With the wrapping and the ice it should feel pretty good, but don't be fooled." Coach warned him.

While the FIU kicker waited for the ref to signal the start of the second half and appeared to lose his footing as his foot went through the ball, perhaps stepping on a seam that through off his rhythm. The ball flailed like a wounded duck to the 30 yard line where Greg Alusik, a would be blocker who normally sets up the "wall", took the ball and immediately looked over his shoulder for someone to lateral to, but he was clearly in the best position to just take the ball and run. The swarm of FIU defenders was on him quickly and he took one hard cut to avoid heavy contact and suddenly found himself somewhat open with Kemmer Brooks, who had hoped to field the kick-off, slicing past him to level a would-be tackler. Alusik cut back to the middle before being brought down on the FIU 46 yard line.