"Cut the shit, Bleeds," calls out Fas in the Bound Brook field house before the game with undefeated crosstown rival Middlesex. "We saw you all over Little Charchie at the Park on Saturday night."
The coaches stay out of the fragrant back room where each varsity player is assigned one of the tall red lockers for stashing sweaty uniforms, pads, clothes, and cleats.
"Just talking, fuckhead," growls Blaine. "Now get your head out of your ass and into how to stop that Bluejay veer."
"Just saying - you'd better talk to Mickie or I'm gonna," continues Fas as Blaine grabs his red helmet from the top compartment and stomps into the main locker room for the pregame meeting.
After the comeback win at Kenilworth the previous week, Blaine had moped around the rec room of the Reed house still not wanting to run into Mickie Voorhees or Mark Czarcinski. A college game was on the black and white TV, and Wiley was playing with an electric football set on the floor.
"I'll be the defense and you get the ball," he offered, lining up the little players with a big gap in between so his little brother could make a play.
"Touchdown for the Bound Brook Crusaders!" exclaimed Wiley with a big grin.
"You did it, kiddo. Now I'm heading down the Park so see you in the morning."
The lights went out at 9pm at Codrington Park, a two block playground named for the only of the borough's founders to have ever lived there. Thomas Codrington had owned the entire western half of town between First Watchung Mountain to the north, the Middlebrook to the west, Vosseller Brook down the center, and the Raritan River to the south. He built the first European house in Somerset County on the only hill on the property, an old Lenape mound that would become the estate site for the town's twentieth century benefactors, the LaMonte family.
It was also at 9pm that the town's teens descended on the darkened swing sets and merry-go-rounds.
"Hey little Charch, you in there?" called Blaine shuffling over to the Stagecoach where several juniors were enveloped in a thick cloud of smoke. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
"Why Blaine Reed," she exclaimed, her beads swishing across a Thai peasant shirt as she stepped out of the climbing set. "To what do I owe the honor of attention from the world famous football star?"
"Cut the shit, Czarcinski. What's your brother Mark up to tonight?"
"How would I know? He hogs the car most weekends."
"Has he been with Mickie Voorhees?"
"Why would you ask that Blaine, she's got your varsity sweater?"
"Look little Charch, someone saw her getting into your brother's car two weeks ago."
"I'm called Karma now," she said with a twirl to flair out the bell-bottomed jeans she had made. "And I can guarantee that Mark has not been with your girlfriend if that helps your little dilemma."
"Are you sure Karma?"
"You know that it would be untrue," she smiled, quoting the song The Doors had just played on the Ed Sullivan Show and flashing Blaine the peace sign as she glided back into the cloud.
Blaine walked home with his first smile in two weeks and wasn't quite sure why.
"They run this tricky new offense called the veer," warns Coach Righetti to the defensive players sitting on the wooden red benches lining the main locker room. "To stop it we'll triple key."
"Fas, you follow the fullback and stop him if he gets the ball up the middle," scowls the assistant coach while drawing X's and O's to represent the defensive and offensive players on a large black chalkboard mounted on a wooden stand. "Perini, you take the quarterback coming down the line and don't let him get around you. Blaine, glue yourself to that halfback heading around end. Now get out there and do it, you pussies."
Middlesex has the ball on their thirty-five-yard line after the opening kickoff and return.
"Just knock all three down on the first play," whispers Blaine in the defensive huddle.
With the snap of the ball the BlueJay quarterback turns right and fakes a handoff to the fullback who Faz slams into the ground. The QB steps behind them and runs to the right into the long arms of Paul Perini who throws him down by the jersey, but not before the ball gets pitched to the halfback heading around end. He's reaching up for it as Blaine flies across the line and barrels in, upending the leaping back at the thirty-one yard line.
"Veer schmeer," grins Fas as the red and white players lean into the next huddle and the Middlesex quarterback looks to their sideline shaking his head from side-to-side.
Box Score
"I'll be the defense and you get the ball," he offered, lining up the little players with a big gap in between so his little brother could make a play.
"Touchdown for the Bound Brook Crusaders!" exclaimed Wiley with a big grin.
"You did it, kiddo. Now I'm heading down the Park so see you in the morning."
The lights went out at 9pm at Codrington Park, a two block playground named for the only of the borough's founders to have ever lived there. Thomas Codrington had owned the entire western half of town between First Watchung Mountain to the north, the Middlebrook to the west, Vosseller Brook down the center, and the Raritan River to the south. He built the first European house in Somerset County on the only hill on the property, an old Lenape mound that would become the estate site for the town's twentieth century benefactors, the LaMonte family.
It was also at 9pm that the town's teens descended on the darkened swing sets and merry-go-rounds.
"Hey little Charch, you in there?" called Blaine shuffling over to the Stagecoach where several juniors were enveloped in a thick cloud of smoke. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
"Why Blaine Reed," she exclaimed, her beads swishing across a Thai peasant shirt as she stepped out of the climbing set. "To what do I owe the honor of attention from the world famous football star?"
"Cut the shit, Czarcinski. What's your brother Mark up to tonight?"
"How would I know? He hogs the car most weekends."
"Has he been with Mickie Voorhees?"
"Why would you ask that Blaine, she's got your varsity sweater?"
"Look little Charch, someone saw her getting into your brother's car two weeks ago."
"I'm called Karma now," she said with a twirl to flair out the bell-bottomed jeans she had made. "And I can guarantee that Mark has not been with your girlfriend if that helps your little dilemma."
"Are you sure Karma?"
"You know that it would be untrue," she smiled, quoting the song The Doors had just played on the Ed Sullivan Show and flashing Blaine the peace sign as she glided back into the cloud.
Blaine walked home with his first smile in two weeks and wasn't quite sure why.
"Fas, you follow the fullback and stop him if he gets the ball up the middle," scowls the assistant coach while drawing X's and O's to represent the defensive and offensive players on a large black chalkboard mounted on a wooden stand. "Perini, you take the quarterback coming down the line and don't let him get around you. Blaine, glue yourself to that halfback heading around end. Now get out there and do it, you pussies."
Middlesex has the ball on their thirty-five-yard line after the opening kickoff and return.
"Just knock all three down on the first play," whispers Blaine in the defensive huddle.
With the snap of the ball the BlueJay quarterback turns right and fakes a handoff to the fullback who Faz slams into the ground. The QB steps behind them and runs to the right into the long arms of Paul Perini who throws him down by the jersey, but not before the ball gets pitched to the halfback heading around end. He's reaching up for it as Blaine flies across the line and barrels in, upending the leaping back at the thirty-one yard line.
"Veer schmeer," grins Fas as the red and white players lean into the next huddle and the Middlesex quarterback looks to their sideline shaking his head from side-to-side.
Box Score
1Q
|
2Q
|
3Q
|
4Q
|
Total
| |
Middlesex (2-1)
|
0
|
7
|
8
|
0
|
15
|
Crusaders (2-0-1)
|
6
|
6
|
6
|
0
|
18
|
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