THE BIG GAME

With a fresh new season of basketball rapidly descending across the country, memories of one spectacular game in which I played brings back vivid memories of agony and defeat.

As our offensive line took the field, our green and inexperienced coach paced nervously up and down the line, pointing with uncertainty at one player then another, his hands flying through the air as if he was attempting to guide us with pantomime, his blood shot eyes riveted on the opposition.

The assistant coach, a seasoned veteran, searched each of our faces with a knowing and serene gaze, he was fully confident that we were ready for the game to begin and that we had rehearsed and practiced until we were certain we could tackle anything the opposing team could throw at us.

The first play of the game sent our right flank pushing eagerly forward while our determined linesmen held the left flank like Stonewall Jackson.

Our tight end angled out to the right, dropping deep into the opposition's territory. A messed up signal from the quarterback threw the play into confusion and the opposition hammered us with aggressive and relentless retaliation.

Play after play was sent in from the sidelines but our offensive drive faltered, broke, then fizzled out completely.

The opposing team then went on the offensive. Their first play of the game made us realize that we were facing a stubborn and determined foe.

We also realized that we were possibly in a league over our heads, that the opposition was better trained, more familiar with the playing field, and had the advantage of a better, more seasoned coaching staff.

We were pounded, beaten, stomped-on, out-fought, out-thought, and steadily pushed back towards our infield. The opposition was awesome to behold; their smooth, almost perfectly ran plays placed us in a desperate and loosing situation.

What seemed like hours later, we finally gained the offensive again, our defensive team was beaten, exhausted, and literally torn to a pulp. All of our first team players were on the field and we had even resorted to the use of our special teams without any significant effect or noticeable impact.

We had been out-scored so decisively, our spirits were low, our morale was at the breaking point, and most of us just felt like giving up the game and calling it quits. We didn't think we could beat the powerful team that had so outclassed us from the beginning.

During the half time, our green coach looked us over with unconcealed anger and disgust. He called us every ugly name in the book, names like useless, idiots, deadbeats, meatheads, and sissies, just to mention a few.

As the coach left in a huff, our assistant coach followed him a short ways, then turned to us with a somber yet meaningful stare.

"Meanin' no disrespect to the coach," he stated, spitting a long stream of tobacco juice, "But you boys been whooped because of his inexperience. He's been sending in the wrong plays throughout the entire game. He's a good coach but he needs a lot more seasoning. He's used the special teams ineffectively and at the wrong time, went left when he should have went deep, and pulled some of the best players when we needed them the most. From now on I want you to watch me, I'll call the plays. Otherwise, we're all going home losers and we'll never be able to face our friends and family again."

With the assistant coach guiding us through the second half of the game, the tides were turned. Our spirits were high, our enthusiasm triggered and we were in control.

Nothing the opposition did could get through our tough defense, and our offense was a wondrous sight to behold.

Play after play we pushed the opposing team down the field. At the end of the game, they were utterly defeated.

Despite our hard won victory though, we were saddened in the end because we lost our inexperienced coach and two of our best players.

For you see, this was the biggest and deadliest game of our young lives. This was combat!

The coach was our 22 year old Lieutenant, fresh out of Officer Candidate School, the assistant coach our grisly oldwarrior, and the two players were close friends who went through tough basic and airborne training with us.

Their deaths hit us all very hard and turned our desperately won victory into agonizing defeat.