First day of football practice I took my sister Twila’s boy, Vernon, down to the high school field to get him acquainted like.  Twila’s husband run off with a female acrobat last spring when the circus come through.  Her and Vernon moved here to Hickory Stump this summer, jobs bein’ easier to find in the city and all.

They’d already run the cows off the field and was chalkin’ lines when we got there.  I seen Coach Griswald standin’ off to one side studyin’ his clipboard, so me and the boy walked over to where he was at.  Coach looked up at me and then his eyes drifted on up to take in Vernon standin’ behind me.  Vernon he’s big.  Growthy, you might say.

"Coach, this here’s my sister Twila’s boy, Vernon," I said by way of introduction.  "He’s a freshman, just moved here, I was hopin’ you could teach him how to play."

Coach he put his hands on his hips, squinted his eyes and circled Vernon like he was judgin’ a beef at the county fair.  "By grannies. By grannies. I b’lieve this here boy is coachable."  He turned around and hollered at his assistant, Cooter Grimes. ‘Cooter, get on over here.  Tell me this here boy ain’t coachable."  What with all the watermelon grins goin’ around, I figgered it was unanimous.  The boy was coachable.  "Get him in pads, Cooter. Let’s just see what we got here."

Well, they spent a good while loosenin’ laces and rebuildin’ stuff before they got enough equipment on him where he looked like a football player.  Coach divided the team into red shirts and white shirts.  He had to split Vernon’s red shirt partway down the back with his pocketknife to get it on him.

The two teams got set—up and Coach led Vernon to the red team backfield. Coach he was so excited he couldn’t hardly talk. "You stand right here, boy.  That there is the quarterback.  He gonna hand you the ball, them two fellers right there is gonna open up you a hole.  When you get the ball, I want you to run between them two fellers for as far as you can go.  You understand me, boy?"  Vernon nodded and grinned.  Vernon he always did like games a lot.

Well, they snapped the ball and the quarterback he handed it off.  Vernon grabbed the ball with one hand and started through the hole, knees drivin’ hard.  The white shirt linebacker come up intendin’ to plug the gap.  Vernon he tried to sidestep, tripped over his feet, lost the ball and fell across some recent cow droppin's.

Coach Griswald blowed his whistle so hard it looked he was gonna pop a vein. "How come you to do that, boy?  You ain’t no ballet dancer.  How come you to do that?"  Coach was as close to bein’ in Vernon’s face as he was ever gonna get, hollerin’ at his chest and actin’ plumb put-out.

Vernon said, "I thought he was gonna run into me."

Coach turned away from him and looked at the barn on the other side of the field. You could see his mouth movin’, but there wasn’t no words come out.  "Look here," he says when he turned back around.  "This here is football, boy.  He spos’d to run into you.  You spos’d to run over him."

Vernon hung his head. I know his feelin’s was hurt. He says, "I never wanted to hurt him none."

Coach’s face still looked like a bad sunburn.  "This here is football, boy.  People spos’d to get hurt.  We gonna run that play again, and this time I want you to run over folks.  You understand me, boy?"

See, Vernon he was brought up nice.  Even before he could walk good, why Twila’d tell him, "Vernon, don’t pull on that puppy’s leg like that, you’ll jerk it plumb off."  When he was older she’d tell him,  "Now Vernon, honey, you got to put that calf down.  You gonna squeeze the life out of it.."  Vernon he learned good and never wanted to hurt nothin’.  But when Coach told him to run over folks, Vernon paid attention.

Well, they run that play again.  Vernon he grabbed aholt of the ball and headed into the hole, linebacker and a corner both of ‘em waitin’ for him.  Vernon he grinned and when he got past ‘em they was both of ‘em on their backs.  Instead of goin’ on toward the south end zone, he made a right turn and run over the other two linebackers, then he took out the other corner and the safety.  He was headed back to the scrimmage line lookin’ for more victims when Coach whistled the play dead.  He run toward Vernon, wavin’ his arms. "Stop! Hold on there, boy, you done enough."  He throwed his arms around Vernon, great big smile on his face.  "You really just spos’d to run on down to where them posts is stickin’ outta the ground.  But you done good, boy.  Didn’t he do good, Cooter?  He’s a freshman, Cooter, a freshman.  Four years..."  I never seen a grown man cry like that before.

Later Coach he got all the boys holdin’ hands in a circle for a prayer, but all he could was, "Thank you, Jesus.  Thank you, Jesus."