For punts, they moved the ball forty yards downfield, so we were starting on our 38 yard line.
This time, they solved the puzzle of our running up the middle by bringing a safety up to defend against it. As soon as I saw that, I changed the play at the line.
“Orange, Ooorange!”
Wolf shifted to the slot, and Phil lined up behind him.
“Blue!”
… I called, and the ball was snapped. The defense scrambled to rush me. Our tackle let the defensive end go, and I held the ball as long as I could before tossing it to Phil for the bubble screen. The tackle shot downfield to get into position to block while Wolf took on the safety. Phil cut inside and got behind the tackle, who got a piece of the outside linebacker. The kid made a heroic effort and caught Phil’s ankle, or else he would have been gone.
Coach Rector was determined to prevent the run, and he put eight men in the box again. I just called our run/pass option (RPO) plays. That way, I didn’t have to be obvious that we were passing. As we marched downfield, I hit Phil, Roc, and finally Wolf for the score.
On the next series, they rode Ty’s talent down the field. Tim, Yuri, and I made him earn it, but he was probably the best running back in the state. He finally broke a big one when he pushed all the buttons on his Xbox and made this spin, hop, and juke move on me. Ty left me shaking my head as I completely whiffed when I tried to tackle him.
When I got up, Tim was there to lend a hand.
“What was that?” I asked.
“I have no idea, but let’s just be happy that we don’t have to play him next week.”
Ty had moved here from Washington. Tim was right. If Ty were on their team, he would have me worried.
Towards the end of the half, it looked like everyone was sucking air except for Yuri, Roc, Phil, and me. We’d been practicing in 90-plus degree weather in both Houston and Monterrey, Mexico. We were up 28–14 with forty seconds left. Coach Mason wanted to see if we could get a first down and then pick up enough yards for a field goal.
I tossed the ball off to Jake so he could run off tackle. He picked up five yards. I told them that I wanted them to hustle to the line so I could spike the ball to stop the clock if Jake didn’t make it out of bounds. We only had one time-out left, and Coach Mason wanted to save it for the field goal.
We hurried to the line, and I saw the defense was standing around with their hands on their hips. I made sure everyone was set and had the center hike the ball. Instead of taking a step back to spike it, I stepped between the center and guard and sprinted upfield, and the defense was slow to react. When you had someone with my size, you didn’t expect them to be as fast as I was. I was ten yards downfield before anyone touched me. The safety tried to dive for my legs and bounced off my thigh as I powered past him. From there, it was a footrace that I wasn’t going to lose. We went into halftime up 35–14.
The second half was more like practice so we could work on problems and issues the coaches spotted during the first half. They ended up having us run sprints because they weren’t happy that the heat had caused us so much trouble. When we combined teams, we would have enough depth to give players rests when needed. Still, it’s always good when your best players have enough gas in the tank to play the entire game if they have to. Cassidy had her work cut out for her.
After the game, Coach Mason showed me my numbers compared to Trent. Trent had completed 2 of 13 passes, been sacked four times and hurried five more. He’d thrown two interceptions and fumbled the ball once. I’d gone 15 for 16, thrown three touchdowns, and ran for another. He didn’t make any comment but nodded to me.
◊◊◊
Tim, Wolf, and I met our dads in the parking lot. Paul loaded our gear in the back. Somehow Dad had forgotten that I’d called shotgun and parked his butt in the front seat next to Paul. They sent the three of us to the back row with Mr. Foresee and Mr. Tams in the center row.
As we pulled out of the parking lot, I turned around and moved some stuff so I could find what I was looking for.
Tim gave me a shove.
“What are you doing?” he complained.
“Score! My mom came through for us,” I said as I opened the cooler.
Something Fritz had added was a cooler that could be plugged in. Inside, I found subs and bottled water. Tim wasn’t quite so grumpy when he saw what I had.
As we ate, I pulled up information on Wisconsin on my tablet.
“They currently have five tight ends on their roster and have signed two recruits. That junior is a stud.”
“They said I might need to redshirt,” Wolf shared.
“At inside linebacker, they have eight players with no seniors. But none of them are rated as high as you are. The two freshmen have no stars.”
The recruiting services rated players by stars. Five-star players were the best-of-the-best. Four stars meant they would be solid college players and probably start for three years. Three stars were very good. Most Power Five schools tried to recruit three-star or better players. Anyone under a three-star didn’t receive any stars. It didn’t mean they couldn’t play college ball. It just meant they would be hit-or-miss and probably a project.
“What about quarterback?” Tim asked.
“All seniors except for one freshman and three recruits. They’re all three-star recruits.”
◊◊◊
It took us almost four hours to drive to Madison. When we were close, Paul pulled into a gas station. Of course, I had to get out and stretch my legs. Paul put me in charge of filling the gas tank. Dad came out of the convenience store before everyone else with some sort of snack.
“Did you get enough for everyone?” I asked to remind him of our family rule.
He opened his bag, and I was confused as to what the orange lumps were.
“Cheese curds,” Dad explained.
I took a couple out and tried them. The first thing I noticed was that when you bit into them, they squeaked. It was the strangest sensation as they clung to your teeth for a moment.
“That’s how you know they’re fresh,” Dad explained.
I would have to get a supply and take them home with me.
We were soon back on the road and then at the hotel. I looked at my watch and saw it was after two in the morning. I was surprised when Paul and Dad shared a room. Of course, I wasn’t offering to share. I was too used to having my own hotel room when I was on the road. Tim and Wolf originally planned to room with their dads, but I suggested they do it by age. I think the dads were more relieved than their sons.
It irritated me when my ‘no smoking’ room smelled like an ashtray, but I was too tired to complain.
I found a flyer on my bedside table. It said, ‘David Dawson: Unofficial Visit Timeline.’ It listed what we would be doing tomorrow and Sunday.
Saturday
Photo Shoot
Tour Camp Randall Stadium / Football Facilities
Bus to Lambeau Field, Green Bay, WI
Game 2:30 Kickoff
Bus back to Madison
Sunday
Tour Campus
Academics
Meet the Coaches
Commit to Wisconsin
I chuckled at the last one. Mom always said you had to ask for the sale.
Something not on the list was us working out for the team, or for that matter, any team on upcoming trips. By NCAA rule, you were allowed to work out with team members, but it had to be organized by them and them alone. No coaches could be present. I talked to Wolf and Tim, and we agreed that we might get in a workout, but we didn’t plan to put on a display of our skills. If the coaching staff wanted that type of information, they had access to our game films and could attend practice back at Lincoln High. This took the pressure off us, so the focus was on learning about the school and everything they had to offer. I was in bed and asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.