The Demon in the Doll

Chapter 15

Coach Champagne drove me back to the school in his white utility van. He had all kinds of shit in the back. Footballs. Baseballs. Jerseys. Orange cones. The place was a disaster area. Champagne was a real slob.

During the ride, we struck up a conversation.

He said, "I'm not sure how the boys are going to react to you joining the squad. They might be a bit hostile at first, but I'm sure they'll warm up to you."

"Hostile? Why?"

"Why? Are you serious? You can't be that naïve."

"Trust me. I've never been the sharpest tool in the shed."

"You beat up the quarterback."

I shrugged. "Big fucking deal. It's not like they're related to the guy. He's just some idiot who throws a ball."

"Take my advice. Try to handle yourself with a little grace."

"Don't worry. If they give me any trouble, I'll break their fucking faces."

"That aggression will serve you well. However, you need to save it for the other  team. In sports, talent is the most important thing going. Yet rapport is a close second. Get what I'm saying?"

I nodded. "I think so. You want me to make friends and influence people."

"That's right, Buddy. I couldn't have said it better myself. Make friends and influence people. You're not nearly as dumb as you look."

He parked his automobile in the lot closest to the football field. It was now 4 p.m., and I could see the boys practicing in full pads. Our school had excellent sports facilities. The stadium was second to none, and we had enough lights on Friday evenings to provide North Korea with all of their energy needs.

The field house was located 25 yards behind the homefield bleachers. It was a tan brick building with a red roof constructed of corrugated iron. We walked inside and passed an excellent gym with all kinds of free weights and Nautilus machines. This was the first time I had ever been in there. It was sweet.

Then we stepped into a huge storage room filled with all kinds of sporting equipment. Champagne found me some shoulder pads that fit along with practice pants and a jersey. He also handed me a helmet.

He said, "I hope that fits. It's the largest size we have."

I had a huge head. It was almost as big as a watermelon. I shit you not. But the helmet fit perfectly. I took it as some kind of an omen.

"What size shoe do you wear?"

I said, "I'm a fourteen."

"Wow. Fourteen. That's amazing. I don't think I have any cleats lying around that will fit you."

I looked at my sneakers. I was wearing a pair of black Chuck Taylor canvas basketball shoes. They seemed OK to me, but I was completely out of my element. I didn't know a damned thing about football except for what I had seen on the TV from time to time. As you've probably gleaned by now, I wasn't the biggest sports fan on the planet.

I said, "Should I call my mom? She could pick me up a set."

"The pretty woman?" He shook his head from side to side. "I don't think she's in any condition to drive."

"Not her. My other mother."

"Your other mother? I don't get you."

"Don't even bother to try. It's complicated."