“You bet your red and black butts, football! And not just a time for football, but a time for us to wage war on any school—any team—that thinks they can stand across a chalked line from those boys over there and walk away with all their bones intact!”

Veins swelled in the principal’s neck. He was now shouting over cheers of “Kill-ing-ton! Kill-ing-ton! Kill-ing-ton!” He ripped the clip-on tie from his collar and tossed it over his shoulder. He removed the microphone from its cradle in a manner that Mick Jagger would have admired and paced the length of the court.

“Now, lately we’ve taken our share of hits in this town, both on the field and off. But I’m here to tell y’all that these tough times can take our money, they can close our businesses, and they can send our soldiers away from their families…but they can’t take away our spirit, and they sure as hell can’t take away this football team that’s gonna lift us above it all!”

More applause.

“They said we were too small . . .”

Boos rumbled through the stands.

“They said we were too slow . . .”

“Booo!”

“They said we just weren’t good enough to be a real factor in this thing they call Texas high school football. . . . Were they right?”

The crowd’s answer vibrated in Coach Hickham’s toes.

Mr. Hodges continued. “Now, I know there’s a lot of talk around here about the district championship game. I know Elmwood Heights has already secured their own position in that game . . .”

The mention of Elmwood Heights brought jeers from the student section:

“Fuck the Badgers!”

“Elmwood Heights can suck me!”

Mr. Hodges pressed on. “Now, I know that before we get to that district championship game, we still gotta win tonight against Stanton High. I also know that we’re gonna win that game tonight. And I know we’re gonna make it to that district championship game ’cause we finally got the coach we need to do it, we finally got the team we need to do it, and by God, we certainly got the fans we need to finally bring glory to the Killington High School Jackrabbits!”

A large stuffed animal sailed from the stands, landing on the parquet floor near Coach Hickham’s feet. The giant teddy bear wore a Stanton High football jersey. A plastic knife pierced its heart through a jersey splattered with fake blood. Freddy Delveccio, the Jackrabbits mascot, immediately pounced on the offending toy. Zipped into his furry bodysuit and floppy-eared headpiece, Freddy made quite a show of ripping the bear’s limbs off in a spray of cotton stuffing, much to the delight of the crowd.

Hermie Tucker, the defensive line coach, chuckled beside Hickham. “Gotta admit, that’s pretty damn funny.”

Hickham nodded but couldn’t bring himself to join in the laughter.

“Say, you all right, Jimmy? You look a little—”