John Grisham - Bleechers

Mal was walking slowly around the track, with another cigarette. They watched him get nearer.

Paul: "The last punt return worked, so we decided to try it again."

A low punt, a line drive that hits on the forty, takes a big bounce and then another, Alonzo Taylor scoops it at the thirty-five and he has nowhere to go! Flags everywhere! Could be a clip!

Paul: "Could be? Hindu drilled a guy dead in the back, the worst clip I've ever seen."

Silo: "I started to break his neck."

Neely: "I stopped you, remember? Poor guy came to the sideline crying."

Silo: "Poor guy. If I saw him now I'd remind him of that clip."

And so it comes down to this, folks. The Spartans have the ball on their own nineteen, eighty-one yards to go, with one minute and forty seconds left on the clock.Down thirty-one to twenty-eight. Crenshaw has two time-outs and no passing game.

Paul: "Couldn't pass with a broken hand."

The entire Spartan team is huddled together on the sideline and it looks like they're having a prayer.

Mal was walking up the steps, slowly, with none of his customary purpose and banter. Nat stopped the tape, and the bleachers were still.

"Boys," Mal said softly, "Coach is gone."

Rabbit materialized from the shadows and loped down the track. They watched as he disappeared behind the Scoreboard, and a few seconds later the bank of lights on the southwest pole went off.

Rake Field was dark.

* * *

Most of the Spartans sitting quietly in the bleachers did not know Messina without Eddie Rake. And for the older ones who were very young when he arrived as an unknown and untested twenty-eight-year-old football coach, his influence on the town was so overpowering that it was easy to assume he'd always been there. After all, Messina as a town didn't matter before Rake. It wasn't on the map.

The vigil was over. The lights were off.

Though they had been waiting for his impending death, Mal's message hit them hard. Each of the Spartans withdrew to his own memories for a few moments. Silo set his beer bottle down and began tapping both temples with his fingers. Paul Curry rested his elbows on his knees and stared at the field, at a spot somewhere around the fifty-yard line where his Coach would storm and fuss, and when a game was tight no one would get near him. Neely could see Rake in the hospital room, green Messina cap in hand, talking softly to his ex—all-American, concerned about his knee and his future.And trying to apologize.

Nat Sawyer bit his lip as his eyes began to moisten. Eddie Rake meant much more to him after his football days. "Thank God it was dark," Nat thought to himself. But he knew there were other tears.

Somewhere across the little valley, from the direction of the town, came the soft chimes of church bells. Messina was getting the news that it dreaded most.

Blanchard Teague spoke first. "I really want to finish this game. We've been waiting for fifteen years."

Paul: "We ran flood-right,Alonzo got about six or seven, and made it out of bounds."

Silo: "Woulda scored but Vatrano missed a block on a linebacker. I told him I'd castrate him in the locker room if he missed another one."

Paul: "They had everybody at the line. I kept askingNeely if he could throw anything, even a little jump pass over the middle, anything to loosen up their secondary."

Neely: "I could barely grip the ball."

Paul: "Second down, we swept left—"

Neely: "No, second down, we sent three wide and deep, I dropped back to pass, then tucked it and ran, got sixteen yards but couldn't get out of bounds. Devon Bond hit me again and I thought I was dead."

Couch: "I remember that. But he was slow getting up too."

Neely: "I wasn't worried about him."

Paul: "Ball was on the forty, about a minute to go. Didn't we sweep again?"

Nat: "To the left, almost a first down, and Alonzo got out of bounds, right in front of our bench."

Neely: "Then we tried the option pass again, and Alonzo threw it away, almost got it picked off."

Nat: "It was picked off, but the safety had one foot over the line."

Silo: "That's when I told you no more passes from Alonzo."

Couch: "What was it like in the huddle?"

Silo: "Pretty tense, but whenNeely said shut up, we shut up. He kept tellin' us we were stickin' it down their throats, that we were gonna win, and, as always, we believed him."

Nat: "The ball was on the fifty with fifty seconds to go."

Neely: "I called a screen pass, and it worked beautifully. The pass rush was ferocious, and I managed to shovel the ball to Alonzo with my left hand."

Nat: "It was beautiful. He got hit in the backfield, broke away, and suddenly he had a wall of blockers."

Silo: "That's when I got Bond, caught that sumbitch fightin' off one block and not lookin,' buried my helmet in his left side and they carried him off."

Neely: "That probably won the game."

Blanchard: "The place was a madhouse, thirty-five thousand people screaming like idiots, but we still heard the hit you put on Bond."

Silo: "It was legal. I preferred the ones that were not legal, but it was a bad time for a penalty."

Paul: "Alonzo picked up about twenty. The clock stopped with the injury, so we had some time.Neely called three plays."

Neely: "I didn't want to risk an interception or a fumble, and the only way to spread the defense was to send the receivers wide and go from the shotgun. On first down I scrambled for about ten."

Nat: "Eleven. It was first down at the twenty-one with thirty seconds to go."

Neely: "With Bond out of the game, I knew I could score. I figured two more scrambles and we'd be in the end zone. In the huddle, I told them to make sure they put somebody on the ground."

Silo: "I told 'em to kill somebody."

Neely: "They blitzed all three linebackers and I got nailed at the line. We had to burn our last time-out."

Amos: "Did you think about a field goal?"

Neely: "Yeah, but Scobie had a weak leg—accurate but weak."

Paul: "Plus, he hadn't kicked a field goal all year." Silo: "The kicking game was not our strongest suit." Nat: "Thanks, Silo. I can always count on you." The final play of the miracle drive was perhaps the most famous in all of the glorious history of Spartan football. With no time-outs, twenty yards to go, eighteen seconds left,Neely sent two receivers wide, and took the snap in the shotgun. He quickly handed off to Marcus Mabry on a draw. Marcus took three steps, then abruptly stopped and pitched the ball back toNeely , who sprinted to his right, pumping the ball as if he would finally throw it. When he turned upfield, the offensive line released and sprinted forward, looking for someone to level. At the ten, Neely, running like a mad man, lowered his head and crashed into a linebacker and a safety, a collision that would have knocked out a mere mortal. He spun away, free but dizzy, legs still churning, got hit again at the five, and again at the three where most of the East Pike defense managed to corral him. The play was almost over, as was the game, whenSilo Mooney and Barry Vatrano slammed into the mass of humanity hanging onNeely , and the entire pile fell into the end zone. Neely sprang to his feet, still clutching the ball, and looked directly at Eddie Rake, twenty feet away, motionless and noncommittal.

Neely: "For a split second, I thought about spiking the ball at him, but then Silo flung me down and everybody jumped on."

Nat: "The whole team was down there.Along with the cheerleaders, the trainers, and half the band.Got fifteen yards for excessive celebrating."

Couch: "Nobody cared. I remember looking at Rake and the coaches, and they didn't move. Talk about weird."

Neely: "I was lying in the end zone, getting crushed by my teammates, telling myself that we'd just done the impossible."