For the afternoon session, T.K. takes his long knife, the weapon carried by all safety men and linebackers. In practice, plays are run with rubber knives, not real ones, but Coach Carrerra likes to put his men through some actual stabbing practice, usually on a cotton dummy, to give them the feel of their armament. As a safety, T.K.’s also entitled to carry either a bola or a five-foot-long spear. He carries the bola. A spear is next to worthless against armor, and it’s awkward to handle. T.K. doesn’t bother bringing along his bleeder. Most of his defensive work is run and pursuit. In that kind of action, he doesn’t have much use for it, not like the linemen, who use it constantly.

T.K. stops in the john on the way out. When he finally gets to the street, the linebackers are practicing with their short clubs. The clubs are six inches long, suspended from twelve inch nylon thongs. The linebackers put in two or three minutes on strangling practice, an equal amount of time on beating drill.

T.K. hustles over to where Coach Carrerra is standing with the safeties. He’s the last to arrive. “You men,” says Coach Carrerra, motioning to the linebackers, “over here.” The linebackers double-time over. Coach Carrerra addresses the entire group, safeties and linebackers together. “You men have got to learn to use your long knives effectively. You’ve got six inches of weapon there, the most potent tactical weapon in the football arsenal, and you’ve got to learn to use it effectively.”

“…to use it effectively,” harmonizes Eddie Hougart, who has prodigiously memorized Coach Carrerra’s entire book, Run to Midnight, not in order to improve his play but as a way to needle the coach for his frequently repetitious admonitions.

T.K. catches a whiff of something foul. He glances over his shoulder to see an approaching herd of goats. There must be fifty of them. It’s starting to look like a tough afternoon.

“For you rookies,” explains Coach Carrerra, “this is called goat drill. It has a twofold purpose. It teaches you to use your long knife effectively, and it gets you used to the sight of blood. What we do is to let one of these animals loose. What you do is you catch it and you kill it. Quickly, and neatly, with no wasted motion. O.K. First man out.”

The first man in line, a rookie, lets his goat get away. Coach Carrerra gives him fifty laps. The second man, a six year veteran, catches his goat and dispatches it in one fluid motion.

“Look at that, you men,” shouts the coach, “just look at the way he did that. That’s the way I want you all to do it. Quickly, neatly, with no wasted motion.”

T.K. takes his turn, quickly, neatly, with no wasted motion.