Chapter 5
The Rams trotted out on the field to a lukewarm reception from the diehards in the stands. This was their final exhibition game before the regular season. Although it was a home game, their pre-season record of even wins and losses, was not impressive.
“Look,” Coach Marv Jones told reporters at last week’s, press conference. “They’re only exhibition games. I’m trying to find out who are going to be my regular starters. So don’t get impatient.”
Ham Gleason, a sports columnist who covered football for the Cincinnati Herald raised his hand. “Want to make any predictions about the season, Coach?”
Jones gazed up at the ceiling. “We’ll do better than last year, I can guarantee you.”
“What about the Super Bowl?” yelled another reporter.
Jones raised his hand. “Let’s take one thing at a time, okay? We’ve got a tough schedule. After we’ve beaten teams like the Patriots and the Chargers, we can talk post-season chances.”
Now the teams were on the field. This afternoon’s exhibition finale was against the Browns, their traditional rival.
Max Aries was in his usual spot, the end of the bench. He had gotten into two of the previous exhibition games as a substitute cornerback. On the one chance he’d had to block a pass, the receiver against whom he was defending feinted him out of the play. He was becoming discouraged. He had hoped to be on the offense team, but as a walk-on rookie he didn’t feel he could tell the coach where to put him.
By the end of the first half, the Rams were leading the Browns 19-14. In the locker room during the halftime break, Coach Jones told the team he was happy with the score, but pointed out a number of stupid plays his team had made. “I want you guys to be more aggressive in your tackling.” He pointed to a couple of Special Team members. “You’ve got to get downfield faster. There’s no reason to allow a kick return of 30 yards.” He turned to Max. I want you on the Special Team for the next kickoff.”
Max had never been a Special Team member during any of the practice sessions or previous exhibition games. But, he had shown good speed in the wind sprints, always was first, and figured that was the reason for his being given the assignment. Max was finally given the chance to play. He couldn’t wait for the second half kickoff. He hadn’t been good as a defensive team player, he was determined to do better on the Special Team.
The halftime intermission was over, the teams lined up for the kickoff. The Browns were receiving. Max’s heart thumped in his chest. He was a gunner, lined up on the outside of the offensive line, double-teamed by blockers.
The moment the ball left the tee, Max charged downfield. He leaped over two of the opposing team blockers, skirted around another and got to the receiver seconds before the ball. In fact, he had gotten downfield so fast, he overran the receiver. He skidded to a stop and chased back after the ball carrier, but a blocker upended him and he found himself flat on his back.
Max got to his feet and trotted off the field at the end of the play. Tim Taylor, the Rams’ Special Team coach slapped him on the back. “Good hustle, son. But you’re not just doing sprints. You’ve got to get your hands on the guy you’re chasing down.”
Max got his next chance a few plays later when the Browns had the ball on their own 35-yard line. Fourth down and fifteen yards to go for a first down. Their punter came in. Max was sent out with the other Special Team members. Although he hadn’t been on the “block and punt return” squad, he had been watching carefully and knew that his mission was to block or force a bad punt. He had heard the Special Team coach giving instructions during practice sessions. “Remember, you guys, Get in there fast. You’re going to force mistakes and turn-overs. Unless the snap is bad, most of these punters are going to get off some kind of kick. Your job is to force a shank or weak kick.”
With the other Special Team linemen, Max was aligned in a ten-man front. He was determined to block the punt. The moment the ball was snapped, Max flew over the Browns’ blocker like a high hurdler. He landed directly in front of the punter with his hands high in the air. But the punter had already made contact with the ball and it went through Max’s outstretched arms. Max’s body was off the ground. There was no way he could brake to a stop. His forward momentum carried him into the punter and both men crashed to the ground, Max on top of the kicker. Max heard the man under him grunt as the air was knocked out of his lungs. From the corner of his vision, a yellow flag fluttered to the ground and the next sound he heard was the referee’s whistle. Max’s heart sank. He had drawn a Roughing the Kicker penalty. The fifteen yards was just enough to give the Browns a first down at midfield.
Max returned to the sideline to face the glare of the Special Team coach. He grabbed Max by the shoulders. “You stupid ass.” He pointed to the bench. “You sit there until you learn how to play this game.” Max had struck out first as a defensive player, now as a Special Team player. So far he was batting .000.
To make matters worse, the major penalty Max had incurred shifted the momentum of the game to the Browns. They scored on the next series of plays and now led the Rams 21-19.
In the third quarter, Max’s team came to life. Thanks to a field goal at the end of the quarter, the Rams again went ahead. When the fourth quarter started, the Rams were leading 22-21. Max’s contribution to the lead was his loud and vigorous cheering from his perch on the bench.
Coming down to the final seconds, the fourth quarter was a see-saw, neither team being able to score. With twelve seconds remaining, the Rams, hung perilously on to their one-point lead, On fourth down and ten yards to go, they had been pushed back to their two-yard line. Each team had one timeout remaining. The Browns forward wall had been aggressive, so the Rams’ only chance of salvaging a victory was either a running play or pass that would take long enough for time to expire, or a punt that would get them out of danger. Their punter had not been very efficient and needed more than the twelve yards from the line of scrimmage to get off a kick. Coach Marvin Jones signaled for the Rams’ final timeout.
Recalling Max’s ninety-yard kick way back before he had joined the team, Jones beckoned to him. Max trotted over.
“You haven’t been much help to us so far,” said Jones. “ I’m going to let you try to get us out of this jam. Get in there and punt.”
“Yes sir,” said Max.
His heart beating a rapid tattoo, Max dashed to the huddle on the field. He was determined to get that kick off, or in some way get his team out of the end zone.
Todd Albright, the quarterback was about to call the play in the huddle. He glanced over at Max and muttered, “Well, lookie who’s here. Our un-favorite screw-up. What mess are you planning for the next play, Aries?”
Max swallowed and said nothing. He knew the other players didn’t have much use for him, but he was going to show them he could play football. All he had to do was punt the ball out of the end zone, send it flying downfield over the head of the Browns’ receiver so the chances of a return would be practically impossible. The game would be over. The Rams would win 22-21.
The team broke the huddle and lined up for the play. Max stood as far back in the end zone as he could get, his arms outstretched waiting for the center to deliver the ball. The referee’s whistle blew. A yellow flag dropped to the ground. The referee yelled, “Delay of game. Half the distance to the goal line.” They had taken too much time getting the play off.
Since the line of scrimmage had been the two-yard line, the loss of even one additional yard could be critical. The Rams again lined up in a tight formation. A glance at the Browns’ ten-man line showed Max that they were about to rush him and attempt to block the kick. He gritted his teeth. This kick will not be blocked.
As soon as the Rams had taken their stance, Albright yelled, “Hike!”
The Rams center was the long snapper. He wasn’t used to snapping to a punter only about ten yards deep, and the ball came out flying in an arc ten feet over Max’s head. The opposing linemen r
ushed in.
Max leaped, got his hands on the ball, but by the time he landed on the turf, four huge Browns linemen were in a wall so close to him he could smell their breath. There was no way he could get a punt off, he’d have to run it out. He tucked the ball to his side, jumped high in the air hurdling over the backs of the Browns who were crashing in on him, and except for the punt receiver downfield, there was nothing but daylight between him and the other goal line.
Max forced his legs to run faster than he ever had before. The Browns punt receiver closed in on him, but Max feinted left, ran right and the only possible tackler closed his arms over empty air. Max was gone and a moment later crossed the goal line raising the ball over his head in a victory gesture.
From the stands, Max heard the roar of the crowd.
Then suddenly the roar was silenced.
Gazing back to where the line of scrimmage had been, Max saw both teams standing looking back at him. From the end zone he had left at the start of the play, the referee stood with his palms together over his head. Coming down when he leaped for the ball, Max’s heel had stepped out of the back of the end zone. Instead of scoring a touchdown for the Rams, Max had forced a safety. The Browns had won, 23-22. Max had chalked up another mistake.