Date: Sat, 21 May 2016 08:27:07 -0400
From: Paul Knoke <paulkdoctor@gmail.com>
Subject: The Father Contract Part 49B

Chapter Ninety-One: When the Going Gets Tough . . .

"Could you move over, PJ?

It was Phil's voice. PJ opened his eyes and shifted so Phil could slide in
beside him on the bench in the far corner of the locker room. Gently, the
younger boy began to massage PJ's back and side. "How bad is it?" he
quietly asked.

"I'll be OK," PJ whispered.

"No, you're not OK," Phil told him. You were limping just now! And your
face is real white."

Phil rubbed and stroked awhile longer before abruptly getting up. "Please
don't move," he told his friend.

PJ nodded. Up at the front of the room, Coach Lewis, with Matthew beside
him holding the clipboard, was saying something about assignments. He was
talking to the defense. PJ tried to concentrate, but the throbbing pain in
his side made it difficult. Phil came back with a roll of wide adhesive
tape. "Pull up your jersey, PJ," he ordered.

Slowly, PJ did so. Phil deftly wound several layers of tape around his
lower chest, below his shoulder pads, and asked, "Can you still breathe?"

PJ tried. The layers of tape were snug. "Sort of."

"Well, this will have to do." Keep your shirt up." He leaned behind PJ
again and resumed his massaging, this time on PJ's bare skin. "I don't know
if you busted a rib or not, Big Brother," Phil said as he rubbed. "It
happened when they gave you that late hit, didn't it."

PJ nodded. "Don't say anything. I'll be all right."

"Yeah, OK. That was a dirty play. I know they did it on purpose."

Some of the pain eased as he kept rubbing and stroking. PJ started to
relax.

"Thanks, Phil," he said when he finally pulled his jersey back down.

With affection the younger boy patted his arm. "Like Eric keeps saying,
what are friends for? You've taken care of me lotsa times."

PJ squeezed his eyes tight. It was going to be so hard to leave his
buddies. He just had to make sure they won this game!

Coach Lewis was winding up his speech and Erik was beckoning to them, so
Phil said, "Here we go." When he helped him get to his feet, PJ concealed
the discomfort movement caused him. Erik was waiting with Brian. "Let's do
it, PJ," he told him.

As the Top Floor Gang jogged back to the field, PJ took some deep
breaths. Phil's taping job had helped. With luck, he'd make it through the
second half. He waved to Billy and Travis as he passed the stands. Keep
cheering for me, he thought. I'll need all the help you can give me.

Gordonsville was receiving the kickoff for the start of the second half, so
PJ ran out with Brian to catch the ball. This kick was a beauty. Franklyn's
talented kick specialist sent the ball tumbling end-over-end and high into
the air. PJ caught it on his ten, started forward, and by holding the ball
tightly against it was able to keep the pain in his side and back more or
less under control. This allowed him to dance and weave and make a good
runback, avoiding the worst of the potential tackles. He dodged
out-of-bounds at the forty-two without taking any serious hits. Erik gave
him a slap on his pads as he came to the huddle. "That's the stuff, PJ," he
said. "Let's get some points!"

PJ tried. He was adjusted to the pain now and resumed his hammering of the
defense, making several pounding, punishing runs as Gordonsville moved past
midfield and advanced toward the goal. The chances seemed good that they
would score again. They were inside the thirty when Erik threw over the
middle to Lyle. The boy was hit hard almost immediately, but hung gamely
onto the ball. PJ, who was pass-blocking for Erik, saw the hit. As tackler
and receiver fell to the ground, the ball came loose and a defensive player
immediately fell on it. To PJ, it seemed obvious that Lyle was down before
he lost possession. But, just to be safe, PJ and one of the offensive
linemen sprang forward, both making contact with the player lying on the
ball to down him. Whistles blew. To PJ's amazement, the officials signaled
a change in possession and a first down for the other team!

"What happened?" Erik yelled, running over.

"The ball got knocked loose when Lyle hit the ground!" PJ told
him. "They're saying it was a fumble. There's no way that was a fumble!"

Lyle was livid. "I had that ball!" he protested to Erik. "It got knocked
loose when I hit the ground. Not when I was tackled!" He was going to argue
with the officials, but PJ pulled him away with his good arm. "Come on," he
told him. "Come on. There's nothing you can do." The Gordonsville offense
dejectedly went to the sidelines. For PJ, it was a chance to rest and
re-gather his reserves of strength. He sat on the bench with Phil, while
Erik and Brian paced the sideline cheering for the defense. After a bit,
the two came back to the bench to join them.

"That was a tough break, Erik," PJ said when his roommate sat down. "You
had everything rolling."

Erik nodded. "Boy, you said it. Say, are you OK, PJ? You look a little
tired."

"I'm OK. And don't worry. We're gonna win."

The fumble that was not really a fumble ended up costing them a
touchdown. The Gordonsville defense made it tough and the drive used a big
chunk of the third quarter, but Franklyn got lucky on a pass play into the
end zone. Their kicker who never missed got the extra point and put them in
the lead, 20-19.

PJ got his helmet and prepared to go out to receive the kickoff. Next to
him, Erik was mumbling something under his breath. "Don't worry, Erik," PJ
said. He touched his roommate's shoulder.

Out on the field, he tried to get focused on his assignment. Both his side
and back were hurting, but he resolutely ignored the pain and watched the
other team. When the ball was kicked, he pushed all thoughts from his mind
except the need to make the best catch and return that he could. The kick
was shorter this time, and PJ took the ball on his nineteen. Phil threw a
block for him that got him started up the field behind a block by Brian,
and he accelerated swiftly. A wedge of up-front blockers opened a hole that
he used to slip past the first wave of tacklers. As he slanted toward the
sideline, a roar went up from the crowd! He could go all the way! Only the
kicker and two safeties had any chance of stopping him. Exhilaration
surging through him, PJ hurtled forward. Nothing must stop him! Nothing!
The three other boys converged, desperately trying to gang-tackle
him. Using his lower body strength, PJ cut across in front. A sharp stab of
pain came from his side and back, pain he completely ignored. With a savage
straight-arm to the only boy who reached him, PJ shot by and sprinted ten
more yards into the end zone, holding up the ball in triumph, two
frustrated defenders chasing futilely behind him! Before he had even
crossed the goal line, the Gordonsville stands had broken into the chant of
"Pee-Jay! . . . Pee-Jay! . . . Pee-Jay! . . . Pee-Jay!"

As soon as he could, PJ stopped and got on one knee. "That was for you,
Erik," he whispered, holding tightly to his neck chains. "I'm going to win
this game for you. And for you, Phil. And you, Brian. All my friends. It's
going to be for you."

Getting up, he staggered a little as another stab of pain shot through his
side. He grimaced, got control of himself, and started to trot to the
sideline holding up the ball just as Brian got to him and jogged in with
him. "Are you all right?"

"I'm OK," PJ said. "Nice block."

Brian tapped his arm. "Nice run, PJ."

Erik and Phil were all over him when he came to the sideline, cheering and
slapping his shoulders. Each time they hit him, a shock exploded in his
side. PJ gritted his teeth and tried to grin. "Look!" Erik said, laughing
and pointing. Up in the stands, Travis was holding Billy up in the air. The
young boy was waving. Both were cheering and yelling. PJ waved back with
his good arm. He was still holding the ball with his right and ignored the
official who came over to ask for it. He pushed through his teammates until
he reached Lyle and gave him the ball. Although his side was hurting so
much that it was difficult to talk, he said what he wanted to say: "Here,
this is for you. I just want you to know that I think you're great. You've
played in every game this year. You've always got the job done for
us. You've never dropped a pass and you've always made the tough plays. You
didn't fumble out there. That was a bad call! You've been a big help to me
in practice and in games. I'm glad I'm on your team."

Lyle took the ball. At the beginning of the season, he hadn't been too
friendly to either PJ or Erik, especially when Erik became the starting
quarterback. Now he looked at PJ gratefully. He put out his hand. "Thanks,
PJ. I'm sure proud to be on any team you're on. Erik too!" After they shook
hands, PJ went to a bench to sit down. His side was really aching.

"Hey, we got the extra point this time!" Brian announced happily. "Tommy
nailed it!"

"Finally!" PJ exclaimed. The scoreboard numbers changed to Gordonsville 26,
Franklyn 20.

In the few minutes of the third quarter that remained, the teams exchanged
punts several times while the score remained unchanged. Pain in PJ's
injured ribs made him cautious when he ran with the ball, so he protected
his bad side and avoided sudden changes in direction. When the quarter
ended and the fourth began, Franklyn was driving once more. They'd made a
good runback on a Gordonsville punt, reached midfield, and after that
pounded out a first down and then another from a tiring Gordonsville
defense. PJ rested on the sidelines, watching as Phil rubbed his side and
back for him, trying to do it stealthily so the coaches wouldn't
notice. Brian, sitting next to him, eyed this with concern and begged, "PJ,
let me take the next kick return!"

PJ nodded wearily. "If it's on your side, take it."

Shortly afterwards, there was a cheer from the other side of the field. PJ
stood up painfully to see what had happened. One of the Franklyn running
backs had broken through for a big gain, taking the ball inside the
Gordonsville ten. On the very next play, the quarterback tried to pass into
the end zone. Both defender and receiver went up for the ball, and together
came down in a heap, but the receiver had possession and another cheer went
up from the far sideline. The scoreboard changed to 26-26.

"Uh-oh," PJ said.  He was looking at the end zone. The Gordonsville
defensive back was still on the ground holding his lower leg. The trainer,
along with Coach Lewis, ran out and knelt at his side. After several
minutes, and they helped him off the field as the crowd in both stands
applauded. While that dependable kicker from Travis' school got yet another
extra point to give Franklyn a one-point lead, Phil was called over to see
one of the assistant coaches. He was smiling excitedly when he came
back. "I go in on defense next time!"

PJ wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Do it just like last time, Phil,"
he said. "You know how to read those pass plays."

"Yup," Phil told him confidently. "PJ, be careful out there. Let Brian take
the runback if it's on his side."

"I will," PJ assured him, putting on his helmet.

But once again the ball came to PJ's side of the field. It surprised him
that the other team didn't try to keep it away from him after his runback
in the previous quarter. But then, as he caught the ball and began his
return, he saw that they'd kicked to him deliberately. Most of the other
team's defenders were bearing down with the obvious intent of knocking him
out of the game. He did the only thing he could do. He got behind his
blockers and lowered his shoulder, charging the attack coming at him
head-on! At the last second, he slipped past one of the boys in front and
cut between two tacklers. Ignoring the stab of pain the maneuver cost him,
he spun away from another player who tried to grab him, saw there wasn't
enough running room to get past more defenders, and sprinted out-of-bounds
before they could gang-tackle him. He'd managed to return the ball out to
the thirty-seven despite Franklyn's attempt to smash him, but he'd paid a
price. As he trotted to meet Erik and the rest of the offense coming onto
the field, he held his right arm tight against his side to splint it and
minimize the pain.

In the huddle, he focused intently on Erik and the play call. It was harder
now to keep his concentration. His side and back throbbed. Every movement
was agonizing. Doggedly, he carried out his assignments on play after play,
ignoring the frantic signals that his body kept sending. There was only the
game, only his desperate need to win it whatever the cost! No matter what
happened to him, after today it would no longer matter. He lost track of
downs and yardage. All that counted was to get the ball and run with it,
sometimes punishing the defense, other times dodging around them,
sacrificing his body to advance the down marker. He was vaguely aware that
on a third and short situation, Erik was going to pass. No! he thought,
give me the ball! But the pass was thrown to Lyle and batted away. As they
went to the sidelines, Erik was very upset with himself. "Sorry, PJ," he
said. "I thought we could catch them by surprise. I should've let you take
it."

From out of his fog of pain PJ summoned enough sense to say, "It's OK,
Erik. You're doing your best. I know that." He staggered to a bench and
sat, trying to regain what strength he could. He forced himself to sit
normally so that Erik would be unaware that there was anything wrong.

Phil was in on defense now. PJ watched him play defensive cornerback
against a bigger player. But Phil was quick and smart. He nicely broke up a
pass play, and Franklyn didn't try his side again. Still, the Gordonsville
defense gave ground. At last, they were able to hold the offense inside the
twenty, but the ace kicker trotted confidently onto the field and again put
the ball between the uprights. Franklyn now had a four-point lead, 26-30.

Once more, PJ forced himself back onto the field for a kickoff return. He
was sure the other team would be gunning for him, but he no longer
cared. Brian was saying something to him, but he couldn't make out what it
was, so he simply nodded his head. Sure enough, the ball came to his
side. PJ fielded it. And in anticipation that Franklyn would again commit
to his side, he cut suddenly across the middle of the field to avoid the
charging tacklers. But this time, the Gordonsville blocking failed. One of
the defenders on the side he was angling for slipped past and hit PJ as he
was coming across. When PJ spun away, the maneuver slowed him just enough
to allow hits by other Franklyn players before he could regain his
speed. Pain that burned like fire went through him from his injured
side. He was hurled to the ground. A moan escaped from him as the tacklers
piled on to his back.

This time he could only get up slowly. He shook his head trying to clear it
as he limped to the huddle. He felt a tap on his shoulder pad. "PJ!"
someone was yelling. "PJ!" He turned and saw Dustin, standing next to
him. "Coach says to take a break," the boy yelled.

Substituted! He was being taken out!

PJ's head cleared instantly. He couldn't let this happen! He ran obediently
to the sideline but went immediately to Coach Lewis. He kept his right arm
pulled in against his side. Coach Lewis mustn't get even a hint that he was
hurt. "Coach, I'm all right. Let me go back in!" PJ pleaded.

The young coach shook his head. "Sit out a few plays, PJ," he told the
boy. "Get a breather. They took you out pretty hard on that last play!"

"But I'm all right!"

Coach Lewis put an arm around him. "Take it easy, PJ," he said gently. "I
know you want to play. But I want to be sure you're OK."

PJ's side and back throbbed and his head was spinning, but he forced
himself to remain still, leaning against his coach. To his dismay, he
watched Dustin get stopped for no gain. He looked at the clock. So little
time left! The game was nearly over!

"Coach!" PJ wailed. But his coach's arm just tightened around him. "Take it
easy, PJ," his coach said.

Erik tried a pass on third down and was sacked. He was limping himself a
little as he came off the field and the punting unit went in.

"Coach, you've gotta let me have PJ back," Erik shouted over the crowd
noise. "I gotta have him. We're running out of time!"

"I'll let him back in if we get the ball," Coach Lewis promised.

Brian came up to stand next to them. "The defense has got to stop them!"
Erik yelled.

The boys and their coach stood watching as Gordonsville punted. In the
excitement and tension of the moment, Tommy rushed his kick and it shanked
off the side of his foot out-of-bounds only fifteen yards from the line of
scrimmage. Erik groaned. "Come on, defense!" he yelled.

Franklyn was determined to run out the clock. Precious seconds ticked off
as they ground out yard after yard. Twice the Gordonsville defense
seemingly had them stopped. Twice the opposing quarterback found a way to
get a first down. The ball moved across midfield . . . then inside the
Gordonsville forty.

"It'll be field-goal range for their kicker soon, Coach," PJ said. "Put me
in on defense."

But Coach Lewis still shook his head. "Not yet, PJ."

Gordonsville dug in desperately. The defense knew they had to get the ball
back. Twice they stopped the ball carrier for short gains. Then, on the
third-and-long situation, the quarterback decided it was time for another
pass. PJ could sense it was coming. He saw the receivers step to the line
with a little more tension. "Be ready, Phil!" he yelled. Come on, he
thought. Come on, Phil. You've got to do it!

The younger boy had been playing cautiously, staying just off his man and
keeping one eye on him and the other possible runners he needed to help
make a tackle. Now he closed in and shadowed his receiver. The Franklyn boy
was older and taller than he was, but not as fast. And he was tired. He had
been playing the entire game. Phil was still relatively fresh.

As the opposition quarterback faded back and looked for a receiver, Phil
stalked his man. The Gordonsville pass coverage was good. The receivers
were well covered. The pocket collapsed around the quarterback and he had
to make a fast decision! He did the best he could. He threw to the tall
receiver on Phil's side, hoping he could jump up and get it.

It might've worked if the ball had been well thrown. But the quarterback
had been rushed. The pass was wobbly and a bit short. Phil had sensed that
it would be. He closed in, stepped in front of his man, and stole the ball!
The receiver reacted quickly. He tackled Phil, pushing him to the ground
and falling on him. But the smaller boy hung on to his prize!

"He's got it! He's got it! He's got it!" Erik screamed like a madman, a
fist thrust up into the air.

The crowd in the stands was going wild! Phil struggled out from under the
tackler and held the ball up triumphantly as the fans screamed and
clapped. Gordonsville had the ball on their own thirty-yard line.

"Coach!" PJ yelled, pulling on Coach Lewis' arm.

"All right, PJ, you can go in." The young man looked as excited as Erik.

PJ glanced at the clock. Time for one last drive. He turned back to Coach
Lewis and looked up at him desperately. "Coach! You have to give us Phil,
too. Please, Coach! Put him in as a receiver. We have to have him. Please
Coach. Trust me!"

The coach looked down into PJ's pleading face. He blinked once, and then
said, "OK PJ, you've got him. I'll put him in too. Just give it your best!"

"Erik!" PJ yelled as he ran with him onto the field. "Phil's staying in a
receiver. The Top Floor Gang is in the game!" Now go for it!"