Chapter 6

Whenever Pro coach Collins was feeling down in the dumps, he called on his old quarterback, Ron Jessup. He and Ron had a special friendship that went over a great number of years to Ron's start in professional football years back. In Ron's room now they discussed the strategy for Sunday's game at Milwaukee.

"We're opening with you, Ron. You can probe them, feel out weaknesses-like you usually do. The kid will come in in the second period, as usual, and by then you will have given us some line on them that will make it easier for the kid."

"The kid's good," said Ron slowly.

"Yeah," agreed Collins. "He'll be in your class in three or four years. Great that he can break in and learn from you."

"Let's not fool each other," said Ron abruptly. "Jim's got the knockout bombs in the Dart game. Jess has built the strategy around O'Flanagan's long ball. 'Kid Stew' is the call that's designed to beat the Darts. You know it, I know it. Let's not kid ourselves," Collins was about to interrupt.

"The way Jess has this thing figured, I'm a kind of decoy quarterback. My calls are expendable. They set up Milwaukee for the sucker right that the kid will toss at them. This 'Kid Stew' caper illustrates the point. I get it. I call the 'Pete inside cross' three or four times in the first quarter. That pulls the deep men in each time he lines up close. They'll have that play spotted cold. We've used it all the season. Their scouts have that pegged in Braille. We've never thrown to Pete any other way than short over the middle on this formation "OK, it's good strategy. Then O'Flanagan gets in to start the second quarter. Pete lines up tight on the right. The Dart defense is primed. Their left deep man comes up a few steps and he's all set to close in on Pete fast. Pete fools them and leaves him on flat feet with the two step inside fake and then the swift cut to the outside and down the sidelines. The kid unlimbers his long toss. Pete's behind the crossed-up Dart defense downfield, the ball gets there and Pete goes all the way. It's a damned good play. Jess is a pretty good, and smart guy. Saves a little sleeper play for every game. Build up to it all the season. And he uses me to help set it up for the kid. I could call that play, too. And make it work."

"I know, Ron. I know. I wanted you to throw the ball. But Jess argued that we had to set up by calling the Pete inside crossover a half dozen times in the first quarter. And you know that as long as I'm coach you're going to start every game." Collins was helpless against the wiles of Jess Henderson. But now he was mortified in front of his friend, Ron. Hank knew in his heart he was letting his veteran quarterback down. He couldn't beat Jess. But Jess could beat the Darts with those tactics. Collins needed Jess.

"That Jess is a real smart character," mused Ron flatly, lying back on the pillow, hands clasped behind his head, his cigar poking rakishly from his mouth. "He lets you win one point by starting me. Then he hands the juicy calls and the privilege of winning the ball game to the kid. Project 'Kid Stew.' You know, Hank, it's really interesting how you can control the outcome of a ball game if you can control the quarterback."

"Hank," said Ron suddenly, heaving over on his side, and resting on his elbow, "how long do you think you can keep Jess from getting your job? "

Hank appeared pained. He despised himself for his weakness. He needed Jess's brains to win. He feared Jess. He respected Jess. He hated Jess. Collins was not a complicated man and the duality of his position was a torment.

"The bastard wants my job, Ron. I know it. Morgan, at least, wants him to have it. I know that, too. Sometimes I think that if we win it all this season, I'll just quit. Quit on top. I can't stand this much longer."

"You and me got the same problem," observed Ron. "There's a guy breathing down our backs. And in each case, the guy is pretty good. Well, I've come to the same conclusion. I'm quitting after this season. The kid will do okay for the Pros. I won't be missed."

Later that day, Jack telephoned the hotel, talked to Collins and filed his usual eight or ten paragraph story collect via night press to the paper.

When he arrived at Stagg Field the next day, the Pros were romping around in tennis shoes, long sweat pants and heavy sweat jackets-their usual workout attire. He was after fresh material for his sports column in the Los Angeles paper and so he decided to break his long established habit of staying away from practice.

Jess was in the middle of the group with his fibre board on which were clipped masses of diagrammed plays. Collins, as usual, was on the prowl about the stadium making sure no spies were about. Collins waved at Jack, expressing amazement that he should be there.

"I thought for a minute you were a Dart spy," he said. "Can't be too careful. You see those university buildings over there? I think they got some guys with spy glasses up there watching us. We got some new plays cooked up and I'm going to make sure nobody gets the tipoff. As a matter-of-fact, we're leaving here the moment the buses pull up. We're going to some public park I know to hold our drills today. Only way to be sure we're not being scouted."

This was news to Jack-it was probably news to the entire corps of writers covering the Pros since none were present and since, as Collins informed him, he had told no one of the maneuver in advance. "Mind if I go along?" he asked Collins.

"Not at all," said Collins grinning.

Two specially chartered buses drove up to the field and the Pros swiftly moved aboard. Collins turned into a veritable commissar of transportation, hunched up front in the lead bus beside the driver, peering this way and that, and yelling directions. Jess had instructions to ride in the backseat of the bus to look out for possible tracking cars.

Finally Collins signalled the buses to stop when they had come to a sequestered park. The Pros bounced out with huzzas. They thoroughly enjoyed Collins' cloak and dagger approach and swung into their drill with gusto. Jack stood behind the offensive unit and watched. For a long time Ron Jessup called the signals, none of which seemed different from the usual stuff in the Pros repertory-except possibly the excessive number of short passes. These calls of course, originated from a huddle in the center of which was Jess Henderson and his clipboard.

Jess would order the plays and Ron followed his instructions. Then Jim O'Flanagan took over and the entire pattern of calls changed. For the first time Jack heard the key phrase in the quarterback's countdown, 'Kid Stew,' and for the first time Jack noted the altered downfield pattern run by Pete from his end position. The play worked beautifully.

The Pros defensive squad was caught flat-footed. Pete got behind the deep men and was all alone under Jim's long pass. The play was good for an easy touchdown. Jess had not told the Pros defensive men about the new play. The way they reacted was identical tr the way Jess and Collins hoped the Darts would react.

"We've got six points in the bank there," was the way Jess phrased it. " 'Kid Stew' will kill the Darts."