Coachs Conquests Ch 01

1

Bret Harris was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief. It didn't look it from the final score, but the 46-20 Lakeville victory on this Friday night was far more hard-fought than anyone expected. Down 12-0 early and snake-bitten, Lakeville had simply worn out the opponent, taking an 18-12 halftime lead and slowly extending it to 46-12 with time running out. A last-minute score by the home team had created the final score.

Harris, in his first year as varsity coach at Lakeville, relaxed and slumped down in the third seat of the yellow school bus that would take the Raiders the 2 1/2 hours home. The trip to Elk River was the longest of the season; the coach was happy it was in August and early in the season before the winding roads leading into the tiny town of Elk River became icy and treacherous.

Bret picked the third seat of the school bus for reasons only obvious to him: It left plenty of room between he and the bus driver, and Bret had learned after several years of coaching high school athletics that bus drivers tended to be very talkative, no matter if it was on the way to or from a game. There were times when a head coach would rather have time to himself. Secondly, the forward lights of the school bus, kept illuminated by some drivers, shone brightly over the first row of seats and brightly enough over the second row to keep those passengers awake. In the third row, it was dark. And so rows one and two were generally kept open for extra equipment that would not fit in the compartments under the bus. On this night, they were filled with water bottles, extra helmets and the bus driver's empty lunch box.

Row four was generally empty -- no one wanted to sit near a teacher/coach -- and from there on back, the hierarchy was assistant coaches, cheerleaders, managers and players (freshmen in the front on back to seniors). As Bret took a long drink of a soda, the managers, lone assistant coach and cheerleaders began filing on. It was easy to smile at the students after this season-opening win -- Coach Harris wasn't always in this kind of a mood. But it was his first game as coach of the Raiders, and with the pressure put on by the locals, any win was a good win, even if the townsfolk had told the coach before the game his team should win by 50.

Bret was a late edition to the Lakeville teaching and coaching staff. He moved to town in July and immediately became acquainted with as many people as he could. He worked for a couple farmers while waiting for school to begin, and he invited students and parents alike to football practice even before the first day of school just so he could meet as many people as possible. They seemed to like the 32-year-old. He was 6-2, about 195, and was clean-shaven with brown hair. He'd played small college football but was known as a "tweener." He'd had enough success to get a sniff of pro ball, but when the time came, he didn't cut it. He had decided to get his teaching certificate and pass on what he knew about football to kids.

"Nice game, coach," said a pleasant voice. By the time Bret looked up from the stat sheet he was studying, the female on the end of that voice had passed on by. He turned and looked and was fairly certain it was Monique, an 18-year-old cheerleader, one of the seniors on the squad. At this small of a school where barely 100 kids were enrolled in grades 9-12, the six cheerleaders came from all four high school grades. But he was almost certain it was Monique. Since the bus was warming up, all internal lights were on, and when Bret turned to watch the cheerleader head to the back, he was certain it was her ass and her legs he was watching swaying the other way. When she turned and flashed that smile -- the same smile she had flashed numerous times since they had met only two weeks ago -- he knew it was Monique Sellars.

He received all kinds of greetings in the next several minutes -- from managers to cheerleaders to players -- but none was as personal as Monique's. Or so the coach thought. And hoped. He repeatedly turned toward the back to locate Monique -- he wanted to know where she sat, whom she sat with. School rules prohibited boys and girls from sitting next to each other on bus trips, but once the lights went out, who knew what happened in the darkness of the bus? Especially on a 2 1/2-hour bus ride home. When everyone was loaded on the bus and ready to go, the coach stood up and addressed the students.

"This is something I do before we head home," Bret said. "It's something a former coach of mine used to do, and I decided I'd do the same thing. I want to take just a quick minute to tell you how happy I am with the way we played, with the way we conducted ourselves on and off the field tonight." He shot a quick glance at Monique, whose eyes were fixed on his. "This isn't just about the players on the field," he said. "This is about those players that didn't get to play very much, the managers, the cheerleaders, even our bus driver. You all conducted yourself in the best manner possible. I'm proud to be associated with you and Lakeville. You should be proud, too. And the fact that we won doesn't hurt either." As the coach smiled, a roar went up from the bus. Lakeville was 1-0; the world was good.

Monique flashed that toothy smile at Bret. He flashed one back. "Great speech, Coach," the bus driver yelled over his shoulder as he rolled out of the parking lot. "You've created a new tradition here with that. Hope you keep it up."

As it turned out, Bret had made the entire thing up. A coach of his had never addressed the students like that. A coach of his had never told him that he conducted himself in a proper manner. A coach of his had never praised the managers and cheerleaders. As it turned out, Bret simply wanted to stand up and see the gorgeous 18-year-old one more time before the bus left for home.

To Be Continued...