Max
Chapter7
From the press box high up in Rams Stadium, Ham Gleason watched the team playing the Indianapolis Colts. It was the Rams’ fourth game of the season and so far they had won only one. Now, in the fourth quarter they trailed the Colts 21-7.
Seated next to him was Sid Schaffer who covered the game for the magazine Sports Afield. After the third dropped pass by one of the Rams wide receivers he said, “That quarterback, Albright, seems to be unlucky, His passes are pretty much on target, but the receivers can’t hold onto the ball.”
Ham said, “Tell me about it, Sid. I can’t remember ever seeing such a bunch of butterfingers.”
“Well, the good news is, they keep up at this pace they’ll be last in the league standings, and at the top of the heap when it comes to draft season.”
Schaffer raised his binoculars and pointed to the field. “Who’s that number 87? He’s listed in the program as a flanker, but he hasn’t budged from the bench. He must be pretty bad if he can’t replace the Z receivers they’ve got in there now.”
Ham put his field glasses on the player Schaffer asked about. “That’s a kid named Max Aries. He’s a reserve. They’ve tried him at several positions, defensive and offensive. He’s supposedly a great prospect but…”
During a timeout on the field, Ham reflected. After Sally Carson had told him Ohio State had no record of Max having ever been a Buckeye student, he had tried some other approaches to try to learn more about Max’s background. He tried to pin Max down after practice sessions when reporters were allowed in the locker room, but Max always had an excuse for ducking away. Either he had to shower, or had an appointment and couldn’t talk, or flat-out said he didn’t want to talk right now. Thinking that Max’s OSU might refer to another college, he sent email requests for information to Oregon State University and Oklahoma State University. Like Ohio State, neither “OSU” school had a record of a student named Max Aries. Ham had even questioned J.J. Heywood, telling him there was no record anywhere of Aries as a student, but the Rams General Manager just shrugged him off saying, “Go ask Marv Jones. He’s the one hired the kid. I just pay the salaries.” Although Ham’s curiosity remained, he was too busy to pursue the story, besides he had a daily column to write, and an editor who wasn’t interested in Max Aries.
When the game resumed, the Rams moved the ball into Colts territory and with five minutes remaining, a 45-yard field goal on fourth down and seven yards to go for first down narrowed the deficit to 11 points. The few boo-birds in the stands who hadn’t already left in disgust, made their feelings heard. Ham, too, thought the decision not to go for a touchdown was a bad one.
The on-sides kick-off was recovered by the Colts. Playing defensively to “eat up the clock,” they ran three plays with short gains. On fourth down with six yards to go, they punted. The kick was downed on the Rams five-yard line.
Schaffer watching through his binoculars as the Rams offense ran on to the field said, “Well, look at that. Your ‘hot prospect’ is finally getting a chance to play.”
Ham had been packing up his laptop and notes. For all practical purposes, the game was over and the Rams had dropped another one. He glanced up to see number 87 in at right flanker position. On the Rams first play, Max took off like a rocket and at midfield, guarded by a six-foot eight safety, jumped to snare a pass thrown a good eight feet over his head. He came down in the arms of the safety, but the play had gained fifty yards.
Schaffer’s mouth gaped open. “Wow! That kid’s got springs in his shoes. What’s he been doing on the bench the whole game?”
Ham stopped packing. Although the chance of pulling the game out of the soup was none to nil, this might be interesting to watch.
Before the Rams were able to get off another play, the whistle blew for the two-minute warning.
Play resumed and the Rams went into a hurry-up offense, conserving the one time-out they had left. On first down, Albright fumbled the ball as he tried to take it from his center. The ball rolled around finally disappearing under a heap of Rams and Colts. By the time the referee blew the play dead, valuable time was lost. When the pile was finally untangled, the Rams had kept possession, but barely a minute remained on the clock.
With time running out, Albright spiked the ball as he took it from center. In the huddle he called the play on which Max had gained fifty yards. Max would be primary receiver. This time, Max charging downfield on the snap, was double-teamed in the end zone, both safeties were a foot or more taller than Max.
Playing for time for the receivers to get downfield before throwing the pass, Albright scurried out of the pocket and evading tacklers for a full six seconds, finally wound up and threw toward the goal posts.
The ball arced high toward Max and the two defenders. The three players timed their jumps simultaneously, but although each of the safeties outreached Max by a foot, his leap carried him several inches above their outstretched hands. Grabbing the ball, Max tucked it into his side. Before they hit the turf, one safety tried to punch the ball out of Max’s grasp, while the other clawed at the pigskin trying to pull it loose. Max had the ball locked to his side with a grip like steel. He had it firmly in his grasp when his feet hit the ground. Touchdown!
Max trotted off the field, still holding the football. A trophy. His first score. The team and coaches on the sideline pounded Max on the back, The roar from the stands was deafening.
Ham Gleason in the press box unpacked his laptop. This was going to be some story, and he had almost walked out on it.
Coach Jones grabbed Max by the shoulders, yelled in his ear, “Great catch, kid.”
Jones clapped his hands. “Okay guys, listen up. We’re behind but we’re still in the game. Let’s get two.”
With the scoreboard reading: Colts 21, Rams 16, to kick for an extra point would still leave them four points behind. A two-pointer, would allow them to tie the score with a field goal, as remote a possibility as that was considering there was less than thirty seconds left.
Jones huddled the team around him. “Let’s run the Option Play. Max, you get out there, you’re the right Z receiver.”
The play called for Max to again play flanker. But if the quarterback saw that he was too well-defended, he had the option of giving the ball to his running back to try to run it over the goal line.
On the Colts sideline, the coaches were setting up to defend the obvious two-point play. The players lined up shifting their positions in an attempt to confuse the offense. On the line were their biggest, heaviest linemen. In the defensive backfield, their most aggressive safeties had their eyes on Max.
The ball was snapped. Max ran toward the right corner of the end zone, ducking around blockers who tried to keep him from crossing the line of scrimmage. The Colts as a team was keyed on Max; all but one Colts player ran in his direction. Quarterback Todd Albright took the ball from center, double-pumped faking a pass, then slipped the ball to Roy Williams, their best running back. Williams ran left and walked over the goal line untouched. The Rams had added two points to their score. They were a field goal away from a tie. A touchdown, of course, would win. One small detail remained: they had only seconds left in the game, and had to kickoff to the Colts. Somehow, they had to get possession of the ball.
Coach Jones called over to Carl Hajak, the kick-off specialist. “We’re going to line everyone left except Charlie and Max.” Charlie was a six-foot-seven wide receiver who’d been a basketball center. Unfortunately, he had trouble holding on to the ball, although he was good at tapping it toward a teammate.
“Try to kick to the right twenty yards out and as high as you can get it,” Jones told Hajak. According to rules, the onsides kick had to go at least ten yards from the line of scrimmage. A twenty-yard kick meant that if the Rams were to recover the kick, they would have to really hustle off the line of scrimmage in order to get under the ball.
Hajak nodded. He was a former soccer star who could do everything with his
feet but write—and he probably could do that if he tried.
Jones outlined the strategy to the kick-off specialists, and the teams took to the field.
The Colts split their defensive team unevenly. Most of the Colts linemen lined up against the larger number of Rams occupying the left side of the field. Only four of their tallest men were teamed against Max and Charlie.
Hajak teed up the ball, and side-kicked it high in the air. Max, Charlie and the Colts defenders were under the kick. Charlie got his hand on the ball and instead of trying to catch it like the Colts players, he tapped it toward Max. The Colts defenders lunged for the ball and one plucked it out of the air. All he had to do was flop to the ground keeping possession of the ball. The Colts would have four downs to run out the clock. Foolishly, the Colts player stayed on his feet trying to gain some yardage. Max flew through the air, punched the ball out of the Colts player’s grasp and grabbed it just before it hit the ground. He rolled over, then got to his feet before any of the Colts players touched him.
Charlie yelled, “Run!”
Max hadn’t been involved in, nor had he seen a similar play and wasn’t sure about the rule. But he rightly assumed it was a free ball since the onsides kick had been in the possession of a Colts player. He took off like a shot, and since most of the other team was on the opposite side of the field, he had nothing between him and the Colts goal line. As the gun ending the game was fired, Max crossed the goal line. Final score: Rams 24, Colts 21.