There was no answer, but Cody didn’t need one. He reminded himself of the Bible story he and DeMetri had read that morning. It was from 1 Samuel, the story of David and Goliath. The team they were playing tonight wasn’t in their league. Herron High was a powerhouse from the west side of the state, a 3A school with twice the enrollment of Lyle. Cody had no idea why Coach Oliver had scheduled the game.
But here they were.
He was headed into the locker room when something caught his attention from the sidelines. For a brief moment he turned and there … by himself with only a Lyle baseball cap to remind anyone of the position he once held — was Coach Oliver. He motioned for Cody.
What was this? Was the man going to rail at him, threaten him for taking over his team? Or complain that the guys had gotten too much attention for having not really proven anything? He jogged over, hesitant. But as he reached him, the older coach nodded slowly, his chin trembling. He pointed at the field, at the guys warming up. “You’re the right man for the job, Coleman. I’m …” He removed his hat and held it over his heart. “I’m sorry. For how I treated you and the guys.”
Cody was stunned. Of all the man might say, this wasn’t even on the list. “Coach … that’s very kind of you. I’ll … I’ll pass your words on to the guys.”
“Do that. Please.” He put his hat firmly back on his head. “I’ll be cheering.” He gave him a thumbs up.
Whatever counseling the man was getting, it must’ve been working. Actually, Cody knew better. Something kind and humble and deep in the man’s eyes must’ve come from more than counseling. Like maybe he’d found the closer walk with God that he’d been missing. Either way, Coach Oliver was sorry. It was one more reason for the Buckaroos to play their hearts out tonight.
With that he jogged to the sidelines and rounded up the guys. He and his assistants led them into the locker room for a final talk. When they were seated, Cody looked at them the way he might look at a room full of sons. “The season begins tonight, and look at what you’ve accomplished already.” Cody’s voice rang through the locker room, his tone rich with encouragement. “But tonight we start fresh. The good we’ve already done is behind us.” He paused. “The season begins tonight, men.”
“Tonight, y’all!” Marcos stood and pumped his fist in the air. “Let’s get it done, boys!”
Several of them stood and slapped Marcos on the back, adding their voices to his. “Tonight’s our night! Let’s do this!”
Cody let the excitement build. He smiled at Coaches Braswell and Schroeder. Here, with the group of them shouting and hollering and encouraging each other, one thing was for sure: They had become a team.
When they quieted down, Cody paced in front of them. “The thing with life is you get one chance.” He held up his pointer finger. “One chance to play like a team … one chance to leave it all out there on the field. To walk back in this locker room at the end of the night with no regrets. One chance to know you’ve played this football game His way. For all the right reasons.”
“Let’s do it!” Marcos was already on his feet, his fist raised high in the air again. With his other hand he urged his teammates up. “This is our time, y’all! Get up!”
The guys didn’t need to be asked again. They surrounded Marcos and DeMetri, the team captains, and Cody and the other coaches pressed in from the outer edge of the huddle, all of them with their hands together at the center. “Let’s show the world who Lyle football really is!” Cody shouted loud enough so they could all hear him, and a round of guttural responses and bellows of agreement followed.
“Whose way?” Cody stayed loud, intense, fitting for the moment.
“His way!”
“Whose way?” Still louder.
“His way!”
“Whose way?” The chorus grew and filled the locker room.
“His way!” Cody felt the thrill through his entire body. Something special was about to happen, he could sense it. “On three, team … one … two … three …”
“Team!”
With that the players broke free from the huddle and rushed for the door, some of them holding their football helmets high, others pumping their fists in the air. They pushed through the doors and stampeded out to the field, to the overflowing stands and the entire town of Lyle that had come out to support them.
Cody and his assistants jogged behind the guys, and before they reached the bench Cody was struck by how far they had come. His players believed God was at the center of everything they had done to this point, everything they would do from here. Tonight … with this Lyle team, anything was possible. Cody reveled in the wash of Friday-night lights that shone over the small-town high school field. It wasn’t just that anything was possible tonight.
Everything was possible.
For a few seconds Cody looked at the packed stands and the crowd six and seven deep watching from along the far sidelines and panic squeezed in around him. Every single person who had come out to watch was counting on him. A handful of images from Iraq flashed in his mind. Himself, trapped in a makeshift prison cell, while his men waited for him to do something … anything to get them out. And the image changed and became a platoon of men following Cody into the desert, ready to take on the enemy … counting on him.
Sweat beaded up on his forehead just below the line where his baseball cap sat. But this time Cody took a deep breath and removed his hat. He wiped his forehead and forced himself to picture the scene in the locker room a few minutes ago. Be with me, God … Please … this isn’t Iraq. It’s only football … they’re not relying on me for anything more than a few hours of good times together. They’re here to support me, not look for me to rescue them from anything. He hesitated, waiting. The flashbacks were gone and he felt utter relief as he fixed his cap back in place. Thank You, God … thank You for the truth. I am with you, son … always.
Yes. That was the greatest truth of all. He grabbed his clipboard and called for his assistant coaches. His focus became so great over the next minutes that nothing could’ve distracted him. But even so — with all the preparation they’d done and the way they’d come together and the strength of their belief in each other, after two quarters Lyle was down twenty-one to seven.
Quiet filled the locker room during halftime, and Cody wanted it to be that way. The guys were outmanned for sure. Their smallest linemen were the size of Marcos, and they executed plays with machinelike precision. But with all that, Cody still believed his team could compete with Herron High. The guys were nervous, hurrying their plays, panicking. Trying to prove themselves too quickly.
When the team had gotten drinks and come together once more, Cody kept his talk short. “Nothing has changed, men. You are capable of great things if you relax.” His tone rang with sincerity, but he didn’t yell, didn’t shout at them. That’s not what they needed. “All summer we’ve asked one question. Whose way?” He hesitated, looking at the eyes of his men. “And what’s the answer?”
“His way.” They sounded discouraged, but still strong, still together.
“Okay then … let’s not force anything. We have two quarters to prove that we mean what we say when we answer that question.” He motioned for them to stand and as they did, they came together, arms around each other, a fresh determination dawning in their expressions. “Whose way?” “His way!”
Cody walked alone as his team took the field. God was with them … regardless of the score. Heavenly Father, these are Your guys. He kept his pace slow, his eyes on the sky beyond the stadium lights. Lord, they don’t have to win tonight, but let them play the game Your way … please … until the final whistle.
From the opening second-half kickoff, it was obvious something had changed. As the Lyle offense took the field, the guys carried with them a sense of strength and determination that was otherworldly. Arnie Hurley connected on passes to Joel Butler three plays in a row sending the Buckaroos to the Herron twenty-yard line in less than a minute.
The cheers f
rom across the field were deafening, but Cody blocked them out. If he expected focused reliance on God from his players, he had to ask it of himself. Each play, every play breaker — all of it had to be thought out and carefully conveyed. The guys needed that sort of leadership for every series. By the end of the third quarter, Herron was up by just a touchdown, twenty-eight to twenty-one. Midway through the fourth quarter, Arnie found Larry Sanders for a seven-yard touchdown pass that tied the game and brought the entire Lyle offense into a celebratory huddle around Sanders in the end zone. Cody glanced up at the stands and found Larry’s parents. They were holding up his little sister, the three of them celebrating. Cody loved this, the feeling of community in this small town. Larry had told them yesterday after practice that his sister was responding to the new medication.
The team lifted Larry on their shoulders and celebrated like they’d won the state championship. Cody understood their reason for savoring the moment. They weren’t only on the verge of an upset, but they’d helped save the life of Larry’s little sister.
Four minutes remained on the clock, and Herron made a run that took them from their twenty-yard line to the Lyle forty. Coach Schroeder was Cody’s defensive coordinator. He called a timeout and Cody let him handle the moment. Schroeder had played linebacker in college but he’d never coached before. He’d learned much about motivating kids since joining Cody’s staff. Whatever he told the guys, they returned to the line of scrimmage and proceeded to dismantle Herron’s offensive attack. Three plays later Herron punted with little more than a minute left in the game.
The Lyle fans could smell a possible upset. They were on their feet, rattling the bleachers and sending up a shout of support that Cody figured could be heard to the city limits. All through the game Cody had kept his eye on DeMetri Smith. His star running back was capable of great things this year, but so far he had maybe sixty yards rushing in the entire game. He was tackled for a loss on his last carry, and he’d fumbled twice this half. Cody wasn’t sure why, but DeMetri’s confidence seemed a little off all night.
Cody gritted his teeth and made a decision. Only one player on the Lyle team had been openly praying for the team since the end of last season, one player who had believed this year’s outcome would be different from last year’s. They had time for maybe three or four plays, and running plays took the most time off the clock. Still, Cody sent the play into Arnie Hurley. Handoff to DeMetri Smith.
He put his hands on his knees, bent over, watching every detail of the play as it unfolded. But again as DeMetri took hold of the ball, he lost his grip and it dropped to the ground. He fell on it immediately so there was no turnover. But he could feel the frustration from the rest of the team along the sidelines. Even his coaches were looking at him like certainly he’d call a pass play next.
Cody did. And Arnie connected to Larry Sanders again, this time for twenty-six yards and a first down that stopped the clock. Arnie kept the ball for a three-yard gain and Cody used his last timeout. He hurried out to the huddle and he put his arm around the shoulders of his quarterback and running back. “You up to this, Smitty?” His eyes met DeMetri’s. “You can do it … but are you up to it?”
Around the huddle the other guys slapped DeMetri on the shoulder pads and grunted their approval, their belief in him. Slowly DeMetri nodded. “Yes, sir … I’m sorry.” He smacked his helmet a few times and shook his head. “I’ve been distracted and I’m sorry. I’m with you. I can do this.”
Herron would look for a pass, of course. With just six seconds left in the game, this was Lyle’s last chance, and they had seventy-two yards to cover. The outcome of the game depended on this play. Cody watched and suddenly it felt like the action was unfolding in slow motion. Arnie handed the ball to DeMetri but as he began to run he saw two Herron defenders coming at him. Even with Arnie leading the way, it looked like the play would go nowhere.
Then, in a move few kids had the athleticism to pull off, Arnie leveled both Herron players leaving a hole wide enough to drive a truck through. DeMetri didn’t wait. He burst through the opening and on the other side found nothing but open grass. DeMetri’s speed was breathtaking, and though no defender was close to catching him he ran for all he was worth.
The buzzer sounded as DeMetri crossed into the end zone and fell to one knee, his head bowed. Lyle won thirty-four to twenty-eight. The school’s first win in two years. Herron’s first loss to the Buckaroos ever. Cody glanced at the dark sky beyond the lights over the football field. Thank You, God. All You … Your way.
All around him the team was jumping and celebrating and pouring out onto the field to swarm around DeMetri. The fans responded the same way, breaking free from the bleachers and rushing onto the field to join the football players. “Let’s go celebrate!” He motioned to the other coaches and the three of them hurried out onto the field to take part in the win. Already the town had started a chant. “We are … Lyle … we are … Lyle.”
The celebration lasted another half hour on the field. DeMetri led the team and the townspeople in a prayer, thanking God for the ability to play beyond their best, and several of the players joined in. Larry Sanders held his little sister on his hip and the team filed past her, giving her high fives and understanding, the way all of them did, that wins and losses mattered little compared with doing their best. Most of the men worked their way over to Cody and shook his hand, congratulating him on the beginning of what looked to be the best season in years.
Coach Oliver found him too, his eyes full of peace and joy. “I couldn’t be happier for you.” He gazed at the guys still slapping each other on the backs, exchanging hugs, and posing for photos with their teammates. “They’re a different group of guys with you.” He nodded, again too emotional to say much. “I’m grateful God brought you to Lyle, Coleman. Very grateful.”
“Me too.” He shook the coach’s hand. “I’d love to talk sometime … about your war experience … the counseling you’re getting.” He wondered if Coach Oliver could see the knowing in his eyes. “I’m a veteran too. You may not have known that.”
The shock in Coach Oliver’s eyes told Cody he was right. The man didn’t know much about Cody, because he never stopped barking at everyone around him long enough to find out. But as the coach left, Cody had a feeling that would change in the months to come. Maybe one day he and Coach Oliver would even be friends.
Tara found him before she left and hugged him tight around his neck. “The impact you’re making on these boys …” She waved her pointer finger in the air and shook her head a few quick times. “No one could’ve done it better. You’re gonna win every game, Cody. Mark my words.”
For a few seconds he and Tara’s eyes held, and he had a sense that they were both thinking the same thing. If Art were still here, he’d be coaching right beside him, sharing in this win. “I’m going home … you take care of Chey for me, okay?”
“I will.” Cody heard the double meaning in his voice, and he meant how it sounded. He would get her home that night, but he would take care of her beyond that too. He felt that way a little more every day.
Later, when most of the other players had cleared out of the locker room, Cody pulled DeMetri aside and put his hand on the kid’s shoulder. “See what happens when people believe in you?” Cody smiled. “Great run, Smitty. Perfect.”
“Thanks.” DeMetri’s grin proved he was still basking in the game-winning moment. His expression changed. “I’m sorry about the rest of the game, Coach. I don’t know what got into me.”
Cody didn’t either. DeMetri seemed ready that afternoon on the way to the field. He had prayed about this season since the end of last year — faithfully hanging out in the end zone by himself after practice, asking God for a miracle this year, something special that could only come from the Lord. “God gave me everything I prayed for.” DeMetri’s tone was thoughtful. “Maybe it was all a little too much at first. How far we’ve come. Like I couldn’t focus on the game.”
He and DeM
etri had much in common; they’d already established that a number of times over breakfasts and late-night talks. The fact that both their mothers were serving time in prison was just a starting point. “Or maybe …” Cody kept his voice soft so only DeMetri could hear him, “maybe you were thinking about your mama. How she couldn’t be here tonight.”
Nothing could’ve truly dimmed the happiness DeMetri felt that night, Cody had a feeling. But this came close. He blinked a few times and nodded. “It’s not fair. She walked away from all this when she made the choice to do drugs.”
“She did.” There was no way around the hard truth about their mothers. “But her addiction can only lose if she relies on God. She needs a lot of prayers, Smitty.”
“I know.” His smile was crooked and relieved, like he was grateful for a reason to be happy again. “That’s the best part. If God does this when we pray about football … think what He’s gonna do for my mom yet.”
“That’s right, buddy. Now you’re talking.” Cody patted him on the back again and left the locker room to find Cheyenne. It was like he’d expected all along. DeMetri hadn’t been nervous or having an off night. He was simply thinking of all the other mothers in the stands, knowing that instead of watching him tonight, his mom was in prison. Cody could certainly relate.
They gathered their things, and the whole ride back to Indianapolis, Chey replayed the game from her notes, making sure she’d seen the details correctly and celebrating with them the beauty of their comeback. “It was the best game I’ve ever seen.” She looked over at DeMetri and then at Cody. “Seriously. The best game ever.”
“No offense, Miss Williams.” DeMetri’s tone was polite, but teasing. “But how many football games have you seen exactly?”