The Education Of Giacomo Jones Ch 02

This is a work of fiction and any resemblance by any character or situation to any actual person or event is purely coincidental. All characters presented in this narrative are over the age of 18.

CHAPTER TWO - The Season

There's something unsettling about the opening game of the season. After nine months of training and hype and headlines, the moment was at hand to see what your team actually could do against real competition.

Rather than an out-of-the-blocks warm-up game against some lower-tier FCS college, the Generals were beginning the 2021 season at home against an up-and-coming Atlantic Coast Conference opponent - Wake Forest University. The Demon Deacons were ranked in both the coaches' and sportswriters' preseason Top 25s, and the oddsmakers had made Fulbright a 101/2-point underdog. There were plenty who thought Fulbright couldn't possibly cover so tight a spread.

Fulbright had installed a new up-tempo run-pass option offense that promised to be at least more exciting if not more productive than the pro-style spread offense from a year earlier, but questions remained about how well the team had absorbed the new scheme and how well a starting roster that was significantly changed from the final game the year before - a 34-21 loss at Clemson - would perform because of graduations and transfers.

Rance was the backup right tackle, and this was the first time he would take the field in a collegiate game. As jogged onto the still-hot artificial home turf for warmups, he reveled in the smells and sounds of the home crowd, the bright stadium lights blazing even though the Labor Day Weekend sun had not yet sunk behind the stadium's west-side stands, and the adrenaline that made his legs feel spring-loaded. On the home team sidelines, out of the corner of his eye he spotted Gia beside the large, forest green trunk that housed Fulbright's secure communications gear. She was testing the wireless connections that would link the headsets of the head coach on the sidelines with the offensive and defensive coordinators high above the field in the pressbox.

Rance and Gia had grown closer by the day, but he had avoided close physical contact with her on Thursday and Friday nights so he could focus on his classwork and his game assignments, not the boner that stretched his boxers sometimes for hours after the two had spent time kissing and caressing each other. He knew he was just a play away from being in the game if anything happened to Tyrone Harvey, the Generals' 325-pound starting right tackle, and he was determined to excel if and when he got the chance. Gia understood and gave Rance his space.

Both were careful not to let their blossoming romance get too far ahead of them. One reason is they were determined to keep their relationship on the downlow from the rest of the team for as long as possible. They ate dinner together a couple of times a week, took walks on Sunday afternoons at a nearby state park where they talked and spent long, leisurely interludes kissing and whatever they could get away with fully clothed in public view. Each sensed the rising sexual tension that sometimes necessitated manual stimulation and a few minutes alone to defuse. Other than a few furtive gropes and nibbles, they remained restrained, aware that a major test loomed as classes began and the regular season approached fast. Rance and Gia - both overachievers by nature - were forcing themselves to stay in their zones.

"Kick ass tonight, 74," Rance heard a businesslike female voice from just behind him just before warmups ended. It was G. He winked at her and nodded. "Thanks, Gia."

Fulbright hit fast and hard, and by the end of the first quarter, the Generals led Wake by two touchdowns and the Demon Deacons were on their heels. Wake seemed to find its footing somewhat in the second quarter, scoring two touchdowns to Fulbright's one, and the Generals took a surprising 21-14 lead into halftime.

The third quarter was a draw with both teams adding a touchdown and a field goal apiece, and the fourth began with Fulbright ahead 31-24. Then Wake found a soft spot in the Generals' pass defense and struck for touchdown passes of 38 and 57 yards on successive possessions early in the fourth quarter. With four minutes left to play, Wake led 38-31.

Fulbright got the ball back and began its last drive at its own 22 yard line. On the first play of the possession, the left defensive end blazed past Tyrone Harvey and dropped quarterback Mason Gerow for a seven-yard loss. On the next play, Harvey focused on the defensive end, failing to notice a strong safety who had sneaked to within five yards of the line of scrimmage and pick up the safety's blitz when the end dropped back to cover tight end Mojo Hale on a short route in the flat. Another sack, this one for three yards, and Harvey went down grasping his left leg.

Rance saw it and ran over to Stark Middleton before he could even call for him and let him know he was ready. Rance warmed himself up during an injury time out as the network took three minutes to hawk car insurance, beer and "date nights at Applebee's." It would be Rance's first play in a college football game, and he had worked since middle school for this moment. Wake's defense felt it had the bluff in on the Fulbright offensive line, and the defensive end who had sped past Harvey was bloated with hubris and talking shit about how he was going to punish the untested sub just now entering the game.

Rance had studied hours of film on this guy and had noticed telltale signs about when he was going on a hard rush, when he would drop into coverage or seal the perimeter against a sweep, and how to tell when he was just going on vacation for a play, as he had a tendency to do. When he was bringing the heat, he had a habit of pulling out his mouthpiece (probably to talk shit) before putting it back in and dropping into his sprinter's stance. And Rance had noticed that in almost every case, he used a type of shoulder dip that left his center of gravity severely over-extended, meaning that if Rance's footwork kept him in position, he could send the rangy defensive end sprawling harmlessly to the ground with a modest, well-timed hit.

Now at their own 12 and needing to cover at least 20 yards in just two plays to keep the drive (and any real hope of winning) alive, everyone in the stadium knew the Generals had to pass, but do they dare with a new right tackle playing his first varsity down facing a preseason All-ACC pick who had just embarrassed the starting right tackle and sacked the quarterback?

The red-hat official gave the 10-second alert to the game officials indicating the network was returning from its commercial break and the umpire signaled the ball ready for play. Rance was in his two-point pass-protection stance when the stud defensive end just to his outside shoulder, true to form, took out his mouthpiece, nodded at him and muttered "Comin' for

you

, muh'fucka," and then popped the mouthpiece back in as he dropped into his speed stance.

At the snap, Rance sprang back into position as he saw the rangy defensive end fire off the line in a slightly outside direction, just as he had seen on film, his eyes locking on quarterback Mason Gerow, when he began his telltale shoulder dip. Rance was ready, unloading on him with a powerful hand shiver at his most vulnerable instant and sent the rangy defensive end tumbling helplessly onto his back. Rance continued to maintain proper position, his feet moving, scanning for a blitzing safety or linebacker while watching for the defensive end to regain his feet and resume the pursuit. But then he heard the crowd roar. Gerow had hit Bookie Riemers on a crossing route out of the backfield right where the linebackers had been before either dropping into pass coverage or attempting to rush the passer. Riemers picked up 18 of the needed 20 yards.

Fourth down and two yards to go. The signal came in for another short pass, but Gerow audibled out of it, seeing that the defensive line had extended itself strong to its right, leaving only the defensive end who had just flopped on his dip-move speed rush attempt, and a walked-up safety to defend the short side of the field - the right side of the Generals' offensive line.

Convinced that Fulbright would not risk running the ball behind its untested substitute right tackle, Wake's defense was over-stacked to the wide side of the field where the Generals had gained the most on the ground so far on the night. Gerow had not forgotten how Rance Martin had managed to open impressive running seams for Riemers in the past two scrimmages and, more often than not, make secondary downfield blocks against linebackers, safeties or cornerbacks afterward. So he audibled into a 38 read option sweep that would get the ball to Riemers and let him do his thing.

The defensive end Rance had just vanquished was now lined up shading Rance's

inside

shoulder, but the safety had not walked up as far as he had expected, keeping himself free to flow quickly to the other side of the field where the run was expected. Perfect situation. And, from his opponent's body language, Rance suspected that the big guy was likely to take a vacation on this play, expecting it to go away from him.

When the ball was snapped, Rance slammed into the defensive end with a quickness and ferocity that stunned him. Rance blew him backward and then rolled him into the path of a pursuing linebacker, tying both of them up as Riemers cut upfield with the ball for five, 10, 15 eventually 32 yards before a cornerback caught him. Now in Wake territory, the Generals saw a weakness in the exhausted and discombobulated defensive end, his hands on his hips and sucking air. Fulbright got instantly back to the line, waited for the officials to set the ball and whistle it ready for play and snapped it just two seconds after the whistle, not allowing the defense time to catch its breath or assess the Generals' formation much less get set for it. Another run, this one over right guard, and Rance sealed off his man and chipped a cornerback, allowing another tailback, Dorie Masters, to pick up another first down. Still running plays as fast as the offense could sprint back to the line and get set, Fulbright was back at the line in the same formation, and this time Wake had walked both safeties up to stop the run, so Gerow audibles into a pass play and found Mojo Hale open at the Deacons' 12 yard line, good for another Fulbright first down.

That's when Wake did what it had to do and called its third and final timeout - a 30-second breather for a winded defense. The offense jogged over to the sideline to gather around Coach Hemp and set up strategy for the final minute of play. Wake was expecting runs, so open with a short pass and loosen things up. Second play, same look but go with a quarterback draw, knowing that Gerow had gained nearly 70 yards on the ground already tonight. With two timeouts left, Fulbright could pause and regroup if needed or just continue going fast, pounding the ball and further exhausting a confused Wake defense.

Just as Hemp ended his remarks, Rance caught Gia standing on the bench behind the players. She put her fist against her heart and then pointed directly at Rance. He nodded and ran back onto the field where the team took its place on the ball without huddling and was set as soon as the official restarted the play clock. The opening pass was on target to Mojo Hale for what would have been eight yards had he not bobbled it. On the second play, Mason Gerow caught Wake sold out for the same pass, so he pump-faked the ball, tucked it and scrambled down to the four yard line. Two plays to get into the end zone and either tie the game by kicking the extra point that tie the contest and send it into overtime or attempt a two-point conversion that, if successful, could win the game in regulation..

Coach Hemp put the game in Gerow's hands.

With 20 seconds left, he got the team to the line and audibled into another quarterback draw, but from a different formation. That got him to the two yard line. Rather than call a time out, Gerow decided to continue pounding and go for broke behind his new bell cow, Rance Martin, and his go-to back, Bookie Riemer. The play was 38 read-option sweep, and the game depended on Rance whipping his guy one more time and Riemers pounding the ball upfield, not stopping until he crossed the goal line.

Fifty-two thousand people were on their feet, creating a wall of sound the likes of which Rance had never experienced as a player. The clock hit three seconds when the ball was snapped. Rance exploded into the defensive end but didn't roll him the way he had earlier. Instead he achieved a stalemate and, at the last instant, turned him so that Rance shielded him from Bookie Riemers, just then skimming off Rance's right hip and lowering his head to squirt between a safety and a linebacker who tried to stop him at the goal line. When the whistle blew, Riemers was clutching the football just across the white stripe of the goal line - good enough for a touchdown. Rance saw two officials with their arms pointing skyward, and no time remaining on the clock. Bedlam gripped Fulbright Stadium.

Now the decision: kick it to tie and play for overtime or go for two and the win. Hemp called a timeout. The team gathered around him. The kicker had warmed up, booting a ball into a net on the sidelines. The consensus from the players on the field, though, was unanimous: win this now. Hemp was persuaded, but what was the right play.

"Coach let's go with what got us here. Thirty-eight read option but run it with the quarterback under center disguising the play with a power I formation so it looks like a dive up the middle. It's not really a read option but a toss to Bookie. It'll suck the rush into the middle and that's all Rance needs to whip that asshole again," Gerow said.

Perry Hemphill nodded. Going for the tie and asking his smaller team to battle in overtime against the larger Wake was not as appealing as drawing a line right here and risking it all. So it was: 38 toss sweep, from the I formation rather than the shotgun, with Riemers carrying off right tackle behind Rance.

The Generals lined up on the ball at the two yard line, their splits tighter than usual and crouched low in their three-point stances with Gerow under center, a fullback a few yards behind him who would fake a dive over the left center-guard gap. Behind the fullback was Bookie Riemers, who would fake a move to his left before sprinting hard for Rance's right hip, looking for the toss from Gerow. It wasn't a play the team had practiced often, and while there was a lot that could go wrong and cost Fulbright the game, it could be hugely effective if the pitch went well and if Rance handled the exhausted behemoth lined up over him.

The ball was snapped and, true to form, the defensive end in front of Rance tried to shoot the inside gap, convinced that the play was going over the center and guard. Rance blasted mercilessly into his exposed ribs and crumpled him into a large pile of Wake players jammed into the center of the line of scrimmage to stop a non-existent dive. Bookie took the pitch from Gerow danced, jubilant and untouched, into the end zone for a walk-off 39-38 upset victory over a ranked and heavily favored team.

Green and yellow fireworks burst into the night sky from behind the scoreboard and off the roof of the pressbox. The student section began hopping over the stadium railing and rushing the field. Somewhere in the din, the Fulbright Marching Band played "Lead On, Generals," the fight song. On the Jumbotron on the opposite end of the stadium, the video of Bookie prancing into the end zone with the winning conversion played on a loop.

Rance never liked large crowds. He opted to keep his helmet on and make his way toward the tunnel before he got subsumed into the massive on-field swarm. He started scanning the sidelines for Gia and saw her and other equipment staff trying to ward off people in search of game souvenirs, so he ran over to their aid. He promised to autograph fans' game programs, their hats or jerseys and even give away his chinstrap if they'd let the staff roll the communication gear trunks back into the tunnel. Instantly he was inundated, and Gia and another student manager pushed the large boxes off the field unmolested.

As soon as he saw she was out of harm's way, he made his way into the tunnel and toward the dressing room. As he passed the corridor that led to the equipment bay, he heard Gia's voice, and he turned and walked toward her.

"Oh my

God

, Rance! Oh my God! You did it! You really did it," she said. He gave her a quick hug. She slapped him on the ass, just like his teammates would. "Hit the showers, Martin. Word is no curfew."

She winked. He winked back.

Sure enough, when Perry Hemphill finished talking to ESPN's on-field correspondent and the Generals' Radio Network sideline reporter and got back into the raucous locker room, he was euphoric. He gave the game ball to Mason Gerow but gave special shout-outs to Bookie Riemers and to Rance for coming in and giving a dominant performance in his first collegiate game. He told the players that the jerseys they had worn that night were now theirs to keep. And, as Gia predicted, there would be no curfew.

●●●

Lorraine and Edward Martin had made their way from the 50-yard-line seats where players' parents had been seated behind the home team bench into the indoor practice field where they waited for their son to emerge from the showers and training room. Their oldest son had just lived out a childhood dream, playing magnificently in his first collegiate football game. His blocks had been decisive in the stunning

denouement

to a see-saw contest that saw Fulbright notch its first win over a nationally ranked opponent in nine years.

Now, they stood in the middle of Fulbright's cavernous football facility with other players' parents, waiting for their sons come find them. They had never seen Rance so happy as he was when he bounded out of the training room with an electrolyte-infused smoothie.

Ed Martin had graduated from the University of Tennessee. He had starred as a tailback in Chattanooga at a prestigious boarding school, the same one from which Rance would matriculate 26 years later. But unlike his son, Ed didn't have the chops for college football, particularly for the tradition-rich Volunteers. After graduating from Tennessee with honors, he earned his law degree at Vanderbilt and had become one of the top corporate litigators in the South.

He and Lorraine met at Tennessee, where she had been a majorette in the Pride of the Southland Marching Band. Football - especially Southeastern Conference football - was in their blood.

"I'm so proud of you son. You always told me that the hours of workouts and sprints and the summer football camps we sent you to would pay off, and here you are," Ed told his son.

They stood around and talked for about 10 minutes about the winning drive and Rance told them what he had noticed about his opponent's telltale tendencies in film study and how that gave him an edge. Homework trumped brawn and bluster, he said.

"We're at the Homewood Suites if you want to come by and chill for a bit. We got up early and drove here from Chattanooga so we're pretty much wiped out," Lorraine told her son.

He begged off, promising to meet them for breakfast in the morning before training room check-in. He said he was heading to Pizza Don's with a couple of folks from the team and would then head back and probably doze off watching something on Hulu at the apartment. Then Rance spotted Gia cutting across the indoor practice field toward the equipment area and called out to her.