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When we were all on the field, a few minutes before the kickoff, I walked over to Chris Tinelli.
“Thanks for taking me back. Because I sure would have hated to miss this.”
He tipped back his helmet and smiled.
“Thanks for letting us use your football stadium.”
“It’s not mine today. It’s yours.”
The Bears just didn’t play that way—weren’t nearly up to what Ryan Morrissey liked to call the circumstances of the occasion, quickly falling behind by two touchdowns. Chris had fumbled a ball away when he got hit from the blind side, and the Patriots had driven down the field for their first touchdown. Carlos had fallen down in the open field, and Basin Park’s star running back, a kid named Mazeeka Brown, had run seventy yards for his team’s second store.
Things had gotten very quiet on the Hunters Point side of Wolves Stadium. With two minutes left in the first half, we had the ball at midfield. I always told the kids to be their best selves as players. I felt like I had to do the same now as a coach, somehow change the energy of the game so that we didn’t go into the locker room still down two scores.
I called a time-out and waved Chris over.
“You know that play we always mess around with at the end of practice?”
He said he knew which one.
I turned and yelled at Noah Glynn. When he was standing there with us, I told him what we were going to do.
“Cool.”
Noah lined up at quarterback. Chris lined up at wide receiver. After Noah took the snap, Chris stepped back so that he was behind Noah. Noah threw him a pass. As soon as Chris caught the ball again, Noah was flying down the left sideline.Hewas a wide receiver now. And wide open. Chris hit him with as long a pass as he’d thrown all season.
I kept Noah in the game. Even though Chris lined up at quarterback, our center direct-snapped the ball to Noah, who ran in for the two-point conversion.
Now we were only losing 14–8.
Yeah,I thought.
Yeah.
The kids were back in the game. So was I. The only drama in my life right now was in front of me on the field. I realized as we walked to the locker room what it would have been like to sit this out—and how close I’d come to doing just that.
“They’ve already played their best game,” I said to them at halftime. “But we haven’t.”
As I walked back on the field, I saw Ryan and Billy McGee sitting in the stands. Because of the Hunters Point–Basin Park game, the Wolves’ normal Saturday morning walk-through of their plays would be held later in the afternoon. Money McGee came down through the stands and leaned over the railing.
“Any words of wisdom?”
“Yeah, dude. Keep both your quarterbacks in the game.”
“Really?”
“I like your starter,” McGee said. “But the little guy reminds me of me.” He winked. “It’s a good thing.”
“Got any good plays?”
“Just one.”
He told me, and I said, “Does that still work?” Billy McGee winked again. “Only, like, since the beginning of time.”
The Bears didn’t move the ball much in the third quarter. But we didn’t fall further behind, either, because the defense just kept getting better and better, not letting the Patriots past midfield. I paced the sideline and couldn’t believe how fast the second half was unfolding, my team still down six points.
The kids had told me they’d nearly lost a couple of weeks ago because I wasn’t there. Now I had this fourth quarter to prove I was worth having back. That I was as present as I’d been all season.
Ryan had once told me that he felt sorry for people who couldn’t experience what he did in close games like this.
