Leadership (Ezzy's Education: Part 22), By Garrett Murch
Kelile “K” Lewis trotted out of the huddle and lined up at left tackle before the opening snap of Friday night’s homecoming game. More than two thousand fans had come to Schmaltzy Stadium: the most in recent memory. Many held signs reading “Save Ebbing Football.” A few fans yelled, “We want Trunk!”
News of Lucinda’s plan to end the Ebbing football program was all the talk at the local bars and restaurants, at Credo’s hardware store, at Dr. Lore’s pediatric office, even at the new, cash-only coffee shop, Cultivar’s. A consensus had grown in the town and fast.
“That Lucinda girl must be crazy.”
“I know the sport has some issues, but…”
“Fuck Lucinda!”
“I’m not a football fan but I’d hate to see the game taken from our boys.”
“Is the Ebbing school board allowed to get rid of football, too?’”
K was determined to play well and to win. Man, I love this game. We’ve got to win this one for the fans, for the game. He bent down with his helmet up and placed his hand on the ground.
“Hut! Hut!” Trunk Langston took the snap and, stepping back into the pocket, tripped on his own feet and fell to the ground. No defender from the Milltown Daisies had touched him. “Shit!” he yelled, slamming his right hand—his throwing hand—into the ground. “Ow!” He grimaced. He looked into the stands. The chants for him had stopped.
K eyed Trunk as they both entered a new huddle. Please don’t fail us, you prick.
A player gave Trunk the next play to call. Trunk said, “I can’t believe that bitch slipped Katy Perry into the pre-game music.”
Wide receiver Rory Clark laughed.
“Something funny, Rory?” Trunk asked.
“Not at all, Trunk,” Rory said.
“Your small hands better catch the ball tonight.”
“Enough,” K said.
Fifteen minutes earlier, while the teams had been warming up for the game, “Whatever It Takes” by Imagine Dragons had been playing on the PA system, the vibrating speakers loosening the paint flakes on every structure they were attached to. Then, the song abruptly stopped playing and was replaced by Katy Perry’s “Wide Awake.”
“Screw this play call,” Trunk said. “Small hands Rory, you line up at right slot and run a quick slant to the middle. You’re not going to drop the ball, are you?”
“That’s not even a play we have,” Rory said.
“Do it. Break!” The huddle broke and the team headed to the line of scrimmage.
K rolled his eyes inside his helmet as he bent down. There’s a reason we don’t have that play. It would be suicide for Rory. Trunk’s going to sink us.
“Hut!” Trunk took two steps back as Rory ran two steps forward before turning at a forty- five degree angle toward the middle of the field—and the Daisies’ middle linebacker. Trunk threw the ball as hard as he could, a perfect spiral straight as a laser at Rory, who was only five yards away. The ball went through Rory’s hands, hit his helmet, popped into the air, and was caught by a diving Daisies defender for an interception.
Trunk unstrapped his helmet and walked off the field.
K, fists clenched, hustled after Trunk. While the coaches were letting Trunk explain himself, K grabbed Trunk by the arm and spun him around. Both had removed their helmets.
“Trunk,” K said, his arm muscles bulging under his shoulder pads, “Get your head together.
Now.”
“Screw you, K.”
K put his face right into Trunk’s and seized both of Trunk’s arms. “You are weak,” he said. “Look at you. You can’t even stop a little weasel running for student body president from getting in your head. She’s making you embarrass yourself in front of the entire school. The entire town!”
“Screw you,” Trunk said. “She can’t do that.”
“She’s doing it right now!”
“Screw her. Fuck Lucinda.”
If this is what it takes to get him focused, so be it. May God have mercy on my soul. “That’s right, Trunk. Screw her.”
“Screw Lucinda Barron!”
“The Sentinels are going to win!” K yelled. I hope he makes the transition here.
“The Sentinels are going to win!” Trunk screamed. “The Sentinels are going to win!” Trunk ran toward the crowd and yelled at the fans, “The Sentinels are going to win! The Sentinels are going to win!” The crowd erupted.
“Trunk!” K hollered. “Let’s get on the field! Milltown fumbled and we recovered.” My word, he thinks the crowd was cheering for him, not because we just recovered a fumble.
Trunk looked at the field. “The Daisies fumbled! We recovered! Let’s get on the field! The Sentinels are going to win!” He sprinted onto the field with both arms raised high and his thumbs up. The crowd roared again.
K and the Ebbing offense followed Trunk back onto the field, K shaking his head and laughing as he put on his helmet.
In the huddle, Trunk said, “Bootleg right on three.”
Trunk took the snap and dropped back and to his right. K crunched the lineman in front of him, then also broke to his right, in front of Trunk. A Daisies defender had broken free of a Sentinels blocker and was charging toward Trunk. K’s powerful legs drove him toward the free defender, who was about to reach Trunk when K leveled him. Trunk let fly a deep pass to a wide-open Rory Clark, who caught the ball in stride and continued down the field for a touchdown. The crowd roared again.
K ran over to Trunk, whacked him on the back of the helmet, and said, “Nice throw.”
“Thanks man. Nice block on that one.”
K smiled at Trunk. Who is this guy? Maybe I should study sports psychology in college.
The game continued in this fashion throughout the first half, which closed with Ebbing leading 20-8. Trunk threw three touchdowns, two to Rory Clark. K was his steady, indispensable self.
During halftime, shortly before the start of the third quarter, Ebbing was back on the field and Metallica’s “Enter Sandman” blasted from the sound system. While Trunk tossed the ball with two of his receivers, getting loose for the second half, “Enter Sandman” suddenly stopped playing. The Ebbing football players went silent. K looked at the clock counting down toward the start of the second half. Three minutes left; the music shouldn’t have stopped. Strange. Please don’t—
Katy Perry’s “Wide Awake” suddenly flooded the air inside Schmaltzy Stadium, louder than any song that had played that evening.
“Noooo!” Trunk yelled. “Who’s running the damn PA system?”
K hollered at his teammates on the sideline. “Get that song turned off! Immediately! Go! Do it!” He ran to Trunk.
“Whoever is running that PA system,” Trunk said, “I bet that’s who Lucinda has counting votes on Tuesday. I guarantee it is.”
“Calm down, man,” K said, grabbing Trunk by the front of his jersey.
“I don’t want to calm down!” Trunk looked toward the sideline. “Hey, you!” he hollered. “Find out who’s running the PA system! They’re going to help Lucinda Barron change the ballots!”
A few seconds later, Katy Perry stopped playing. Trunk broke free of K’s grip and ran to the sideline.
K had nearly given up. Screw him. I don’t care; it’s just high school football. But he did care, even about Trunk. A little. Do I need to punch him in the face? He jogged over to Trunk.
“After the game, Trunk, we’ll find out who it was and we’ll stop them from changing the ballots.”
Trunk’s face was nearly as red as the dress Lucinda had worn to school on Wednesday. His breathing was so heavy it made Kelile feel out of breath himself. “We’ll stop those thieves!” Trunk yelled.
“We’ll stop those thieves,” K said.
“They will pay!”
“They will pay.” K judged Trunk’s breathing to be returning to normal. “Let’s make the Daisies pay.”
“That’s right,” Trunk said. “Let’s make the Daisies pay!”
“We’re gonna win.”
“We’re gonna win!”
And win Ebbing did with a stellar second half performance by Trunk and the whole team. Exhilarated Ebbing fans gave their team a standing ovation when it ran out of the stadium after the game. Trunk blew kisses at them.
Back in the locker room, Trunk had his phone out. “All right guys,” he said, getting his teammates’ attention. He held up his phone. “Watch this!” He took a shirtless selfie. He pasted the selfie into a draft InstaTok post and typed for a couple minutes. None of his teammates were paying attention to him by the time he clicked “post.”
THE Trunk Langston: Trunk WINS like he will on TUESDAY!! Lying Lucinda, you will be WIDE ASLEEP!!! I know EXACTLY who your vote changer is. Soon I will tell the WORLD. It’s probably a TRUNK STYLE HATER or a FAKE PATRIOT!! Sleepy Lucinda CONFESS!! Confess to your sin and LOSE! Your no Dua Lipa