Robofootball: Doublespin
Chapter 22

There was something about those Friday night lights in a small high school field. They didn’t shine all that brightly, certainly nothing like the 6-figure capacity Big House in Ann Arbor; nevertheless, rarely were college games played at night in Michigan Stadium. On any given Friday, perhaps 5% of the bulbs were burned out at the Harrison football field. Kids were known to practice with their sling shots and pellet guns especially when they snuck in on summer nights when school was out of session. A 6-foot chain link fence that was certainly not electrified and lacked barbed wire at the top did little to discourage much of anything. A strong mature deer could leap it with a running start while a delinquent teenager could scale it in a few seconds more.

The lights, pockmarked as they were, adequately illuminated the field. The home bleachers were solid with their iron pole network supporting wooden 2” x 12”s that serves as both alternating bench seats and foot rests. The paint was mostly worn off the boards along with a splinter or two visible here and there, but they too were stable like the metal framework below. An insurance safety inspector eyed them every year accompanied by the head of the maintenance department. The inspector would point out any flaws and the maintenance chief would see that they were fixed. The inspector did not have the power of a municipality or even a federal organization like OSHA; nevertheless, too many substandard conditions and the school could lose their insurance coverage with that particular carrier. Insurance companies often communicate with each other especially when it comes to past claims history, substandard conditions, or other reasons why a policy may have been canceled in the past. Too many black listings and the cost of insurance could double or even triple, much like a driver with too many citations. Bottom line, a higher risk meant higher premiums.

The home bleachers consisted of 160 sitting boards, each 10 feet in length that were meant to hold 8 people per board. They rose up 16 levels at a 40 degree angle with 10 sets. The capacity was 1,280, but more could squeeze in if they tightened up, especially those with small children. Rarely was there ever a capacity crowd except for maybe homecoming and graduation day ceremonies. On the opposite side of the field, there were only 2 sets of bleachers, enough for 256 officially, give or take a few depending on rump size, less for hippos, more for spider monkeys.

It was Friday, September 7th, 2018, and word about any official banning of football had not leaked out yet, at least in a serious manner. The Harrison Hornets, led by their coaches, came running out under a banner held aloft by two cheerleader anchors. One of them was Amanda Simpson who still lobbied Jess relentlessly for a date; after all, it’s often genetically programmed that the top cheerleader pursue the starting quarterback, that’s what Carly had said to Jess anyhow. Big yellow insects with exaggerated stingers framed “HORNETS” in large block yellow letters on fairly thin paper. Jess was one of the first players following the coaches and he enthusiastically leaped and smacked the paper giving it its first rip. About a dozen players later, the banner tore in half and several players stumbled creating a log jam as those following were unable to halt their forward fired-up momentum.

An ensuing pile-up occurred and even the two cheerleaders on the ends were flung to the ground still clutching pieces of the holy paper that had once been a magnificent symbol of mascotism, but not quite worthy of a cloth war symbol once proudly displayed in battle. No matter, the players recovered despite the collective groans of the hometown crowd, and assembled along the sidelines like soldiers before a battle. There was a good deal of chatter along with friendly finger pointing and ribbing at those accused of initiating what had somewhat resembled a brawl or gang fight, but was more or less was just a jumbled mass of youthful confusion.

“Save it for Farwell boys!” Shouted Coach Bruce. Bruce Polynytski had long gone by “Coach Bruce” or just “Coach” since his last name of proud Polish descent was often butchered by “Pol-i-night-ski” instead of the proper “Pol-i-knit-ski.” He pulled Jess aside and said, “You ready Robinson?”

“You bet coach.”

“Warm that arm up, we’re coming out swinging,” Coach Bruce handed him a football.

“You got it coach.” Jess began playing pitch and catch with a receiver on the sideline.

The Harrison Hornets won the toss and returned the opening kickoff to their own 32-yard line.

“Big play now,” said Coach Bruce to Jess, “You warmed up okay?”

“Yup,” answered Jess.

“Good, go out there and get ’em!”

The entire offensive team of 11 players rushed to the field. There was no huddle as the first play was already scripted on 3 huts. In the shot gun, Jess received a clean snap. The entire offense rolled right as Jess moved that way out of the pocket, faked a handoff, and faked a short throw to the right wide out. In the meantime, the tight end on the same right side, squeezed around the defensive end, and streaked far left on a slant. The safety cheated a little and moved right with the general flow of the play. The over-eager linebackers on defense moved hungrily with the play too, looking for someone to hit, or better yet, tackle. One was assigned to the tight end, but picked him up too late and was a full 5 yards when the tight end broke out across the line. With no safety covering behind, all Jess had to do was flick a long pass across the field to the wide open tight end. He hung a neat spiral a good 40 yards though the tight end was perhaps only 20 yards down north of the line of scrimmage. The tight end caught it in midstride and scampered down the field unencumbered. The big lumbering kid who caught the ball had good hands but was slow, and was caught from behind by a linebacker, but not until he was forced out of bounds at the Farwell 4-yard line.

The play had taken some time to develop and Jess was hit hard two seconds after heaving the ball and driven to the ground. He hit his head fairly hard and was dazed for a moment, a little welcome for the start of the new season. Another linebacker, the one who hit him, said, “Take that punk, get used to it.” A yellow flag came out for the late hit on the quarterback, but what normally would have been a 15-yard penalty was only 2 yards, half the distance to the goal line since they were so close to the end zone. They scored on the next play with a fullback rush right up the gut, Harrison 7, Farwell 0.

The pass had taken Farwell off guard as high school teams tended to favor stronger running games, especially as the weather got colder in northern states like Michigan. College wasn’t all that different as the Big 10 since teams had to build strong running games in case of cold, high wind weather; a disadvantage when they often had to play in warm climates for bowl games south or out west like the Rose Bowl. Send one of those warm weather west coast offices to Michigan in December or January and see how the passing game flies.

Jess’s off season weight training and positive weight gain had paid off. He didn’t add much to his 6’3” height, but he stepped on the scale and cleared 190 by a pound or two, a gain of about 20 pounds without adding fat. His shoulders seemed to broaden and his upper arms appeared less wiry, but more beefy now. He could throw the ball 55 or 56 yards, maybe more with a strong wind behind him, and his passes seemed more crisp with a lot more zip than the previous year. Taking advantage of what Coach Bruce would ultimately consider his best quarterback ever, Coach Bruce was ready and willing to call more pass plays over the run. A good coach constantly comes up with all sorts of schemes, but great ones alter those schemes to fit the abilities of his players, not the other way around by forcing square pegs into round holes.

Farwell was a bit overmatched, and the Hornets led at half time with a 21-10 score, and Farwell’s only touchdown had been an interception return to no fault of Jess’s. Jess had made a clean fast but hard throw under duress as his left tackle failed to block Farwell’s defensive end. Jess zipped the ball to his left flanker before the flanker had completed his cut. The ball surprised the receiver when it was there right when he turned. It went through his hands before he could react right into the hands of the defender. Jess was knocked to the ground again, but quickly got up in an attempt to help with the tackle. The same linebacker who seemed to have grudge took the golden opportunity to level Jess from his blind side. Jess was just sort of jogging to the sideline to perhaps force the guy with the ball out of bounds when the linebacker crushed him at full speed, dead on. There was no penalty as Jess’s lights dimmed and then went out for a full 10 seconds. No one seemed to notice, not even Carly in the band since it happened on the other side of the field. Also, the celebration from the interception return for a touchdown in the end zone garnered all of the attention.

When Carly saw that her personal #18 was not getting up, she nearly rushed onto the field, but Jess sat up groggily, then stood up a little wobbly, and started walking to the visitor side of the field which was near. Fortunately, one of his teammates grabbed his arm and pointed him in the right direction. After the kickoff, Jess was right back in the mix, but seemed a little off. After two incomplete passes, they ran on 3rd down as the 1st half clock had ticked down to less than a minute. They punted and time ran out in the half as Farwell could get nothing going in the short amount of time left.

In the locker room, no one seemed to notice that Jess had been rocked at all. After all, this was football! Par for the course as the peer pressure to exhibit toughness was enormous, off the charts. Everyone who played hard got banged up, and if you didn’t, then there was likely something wrong with you. It wasn’t a game for Nancy Boys except for maybe the kicker. If players could stand, walk with a limp, and had no broken bones, what were a few bruises? Just part of the game. The 20 minute half time was a good rest for Jess. Coach Bruce and the offensive coordinator came to talk to him a few minutes, but only about ways to exploit some of the defensive weaknesses that they observed. Likewise, the defensive coordinator pointed out some of Farwell’s offensive habits. Not once did anyone ask Jess if he was okay, but then again, there were other players too that had been smacked around, and they were still walking and talking.

Since Farwell got the ball first in the 2nd half, Jess got a few more much needed minutes of rest, but Farwell was shutdown with a 3 and out. The game went a little choppier in the 2nd half. Jess still seemed a little off, completing the short passes just fine, but missing more on the 10, 15, and 20 yard outs. After trading several punts, the Hornets were able to move the ball especially on a big 42-yard run by the halfback on a draw play. The nice run set up the Hornets’ 4th and final touchdown of the game late in the 3rd quarter. The two teams only managed a field goal each in the 4th quarter. Coach Bruce, nursing a good lead with his defense playing well, slid into a conservative ball control offense with more runs to wind down the clock. Harrison won by a final score of 31 to 13, a good opening victory. Jess would finish with 203 yards of passing, 2 touchdowns, and 1 interception. 200 yards was fairly exceptional for a high school quarterback. His father, Mike Robinson, would see none of it as he was busy losing $800 at his weekly poker match.

“Truth is tough. It will not break, like a bubble, at a touch; nay, you may kick it all day like a football, and it will be round at full at evening.”

Oliver Wendell Holmes

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