Bleeds Bombs a Drop Kick

       "Alright men!" shouts Coach Righetti as the Crusaders bunch up to exit the Somerville locker room on a rainy Thanksgiving morning. "They're bigger, faster, and more talented than us, but we have one important thing that they don't." This final game of the season is the oldest rivalry in central New Jersey, dating back to 1910. The winner often takes home top ranking for Somerset County, and even a losing season is considered a success with a turkey day victory. In this unexpected undefeated year, Bound Brook is also looking at landing their first Group 1 state championship.      Lurking beneath this competitive match up is a racial divide that no one talks about but everyone feels. Somerville is an integrated town with a large and vibrant Black community. Bound Brook is segregated with the few African American families residing in South Bound Brook across dual barriers of railroad tracks and the Raritan River.      "It's got us through th

      "This section is reserved for the band," warns the director as Blaine hobbles on crutches up the four steps to the nearest section of the home stands. "But we'd be delighted to have the team captain as our musical supporter for the second half." "Beats being an athletic supporter, I guess," Blaine winces as he plops onto the first bench he comes to. __________      Blaine had tried to stay away from LaMonte Field for the next to the last game of the season, but he couldn't resist tuning in on WAWZ, the Zaraphath Pillar of Fire station. He scowled with Watchung Hills' first touchdown, cursed with a late first quarter field goal, and clicked off the radio as the Warriors were driving down the field early in the second quarter. "Karma, can you take me up to the field?" he was mortified to beg into the telephone. "Yes if you'll tell me what's going on." She arrived ten minutes later in the Charch

      "Yo Bleeds," grins Fas as the BBHS band plays the national anthem before the Mountain Valley Conference game against Ridge High School. "I saw Mickie and Little Charch come out of the auditorium together."         "Big fucking deal," Blaine growls, irritated at the interruption to his favorite part of pregame rituals. "Let's stomp these rich kids." "No argument here," Fas replies about the team from the wealthy suburb of Basking Ridge on the south slope of Third Watchung Mountain. "They got it coming." __________     "Blaine, I have to talk to you," whispered Mickie leaning into his shoulder beside his school locker. "What is this, instant replay?" he laughed, hooking her arm and leading her to the back door to the auditorium stage. They glanced both ways and ducked into the dark backstage when they thought no one was looking.      "I know you've been talking to Kar

      "Eee," squeaks Blaine following a forearm to the throat after the referee blows his whistle signalling the play is over. The Dunellen cornerback who had been charging in from the backside of the passing play just grins and jogs back to the defensive huddle at the Destroyer five yard line. "Thirty three," mumbles Blaine to himself as he stomps into the Crusader huddle.      "Alright, let's run a fake dive and pop pass over the middle," calls the Bound Brook quarterback on third down with five yards to go for a touchdown. "Thirty three," growls Blaine leaning forward into a three point stance behind the quarterback with one hand planted on the ground. ___________      "Blaine, I have to talk to you," whispered Karma leaning into his shoulder beside his school locker. "It'll be off the record this time." "What's up Little Charch?" he smiled, hooking her arm and leading her to the bac

(http://chestofbooks.com/sports/football/Player-Spectator/Drop-Kick.html)       "Karma, what're you doing down here," calls Blaine with hands on hips and head shaking from side to side as his petite hippy friend strides over to the sideline. "What happened out there?" she asks, pulling a pencil and pad from an oversized cloth purse with a peace sign sewn on. "Part of the game," he says while taking her arm and turning her away from the team. "Now get off the field before you get in trouble." "Blaine, I'm a reporter for the Searchlight," she explains, glancing at the ambulance pulling up to the huddle of coaches, parents, and rescue squad personnel gathered around a downed Harrison player. "This injury is a story." "It's a tough sport," he mumbles, turning away to join the defense on the bench, but not before catching the disappointment in her striking hazel eyes. "You want the story, go

(from https://manville.wordpress.com/)           "Hey Bleeds, that's the first smile I've seen on that ugly mug all year," starts in Fas on the short bus ride to Manville for an important Mountain Valley Conference game with another neighboring town. "Back with Mickie and I don't even have to kick the shit out of Charchie," Blaine concedes. "That's two for the price of one," continues the hirsute noseguard leaning back over the bench seat. "Send Little Charch my way, would ya?" "Call her Karma and she's not mine to give, so clamp it and get ready for this game, asshole!" __________            On the night after the unexpected win over high scoring and previously undefeated Middlesex, Blaine had walked the three blocks from the Reed house on Hanken Road to Codrington Park. Half the team was standing around under the lights on the basketball courts in their red wool double B jackets with cream col