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MITCH SAW THE BREAK in the line and darted for it, ducking his shoulder to avoid the grasp of the opposing player. Pivoting on his right foot, he broke free of the pack and sprinted for the goalpost, exhilarated. He was free! There wasn’t another player between him and his first touchdown of the season. Even though this was only a practice, triumph coursed through his veins with a burst of adrenaline.
I still got it, he thought to himself, grinning as he pounded down the field. Mitch glanced over his shoulder, checking the position of the other players. He was only two paces ahead of two beefy teens sporting yellow jerseys. With a spurt of adrenaline, he pushed himself to move faster on weightless legs.
Twenty yards. Fifteen. Ten. Almost there.
He smacked the ground hard on the six-yard line, the face guard of his helmet grinding into the stiff, dry turf. The player who hit him from the back immediately released his vice grip on Mitch's waist and leapt to his feet to a chorus of cheers from the other players.
"Great hit," he heard the coach call.
Spitting out dust and dry grass, Mitch pushed himself up to stand and brushed the dirt off the front of his jersey. Turf was much easier to play on when it was green, he thought ruefully. As far as he could remember, the last time this football field was green was last spring.
Cory slapped Mitch on the shoulder pads.
"You're a hard guy to take down," he said, pulling off his helmet.
"Just stubborn I guess." He grinned at his best friend.
"Wrap it up, men," Coach yelled from the sidelines. "That's it for today. Good practice."
A few of the boys glanced at each other, surprised, but gathered up their gear and made their way off the field.
"Is it my imagination or are we finishing early today?" Mitch pulled off his helmet with relief, grateful that there was enough of a breeze to cool his sweat-soaked head.
"Definitely not your imagination," muttered Cory. "Coach seems a little distracted."
Mitch trotted over to where the coach was tossing the footballs into the large mesh bag.
"Hey Coach," he said. "What's up? Everything okay?"
Dan Bryson glanced up at Mitch as he approached. "Hi, Mitch. It's nothing you need to concern yourself with right now. You guys worked hard, and as hot as it is, I figured I'd let you off a bit early." He finished his task and heaved the bag up to his shoulder. "You did really well today. You've gotten stronger over the summer, I think."
Mitch walked alongside his coach as he left the field. "I tried to stay in shape. I want to have a great last year."
"Well, you've always worked hard. You've been a real asset to this team."
"I try."
"You're good enough to play college football, son. You really are. I hope you pursue that."
Mitch looked sideways at Coach Bryson. "Maybe. I think I'm going to take a couple years off and do some travelling, though."
Bryson was quiet for a moment, but nodded his head. "That's too bad, Mitch, but I understand. Maybe you can get back to playing later. Any team would be lucky to have you playing for them.”
"Oh I don’t know. You've got some good talent coming up the ranks here, I think," Mitch said. "You should have a strong team next year."
Bryson nodded but said nothing.
Mitch spotted Cory waiting impatiently by his car as they exited the field.
"Gotta' run, Coach," he called over his shoulder, breaking into a run. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Bryson lifted a hand in farewell as Mitch caught up with Cory. He shifted the heavy bag on his shoulder. Kids are so optimistic, he thought. It never occurs to them that anything can ever change, or that their way of life would ever end.
He rubbed his chest with a broad hand, trying to ignore the clenching ache. It was just stress, he told himself. What else could it be? What else would he be feeling, knowing that his role at this school was almost over? He had been coaching high school football for fifteen years. What else was he supposed to do now?
Moreover, how was he going to tell these wonderful, hard-working kids that they would be the last high school football team this school would ever see?
***
MITCH CAUGHT UP WITH Cory easily, and unlocked his car. He popped open the rusted trunk with a squeak and heaved his sports back in. Cory did as well. He closed it with a hard slam to make sure the catch connected. It didn't always.
"What was that all about?" Cory climbed into the passenger side as Mitch opened the driver's door.
Mitch shrugged as he started the Ford. "Coach said he let us off a bit early because it was so hot, that's all."
Cory shook his head. "Something's up."
"You think so? What are you thinking?"
"Well, things are changing. You can see it, just look around."
"What do you mean?" Mitch backed out of the parking spot and maneuvered his car past the other vehicles and out onto the road.
"Empty houses, closed down businesses, you know, stuff like that."
"We're just in a bit of a slump. I'm sure things will pick up eventually, especially when that new plant goes in."
"My dad says that's been canceled."
"What? Why?"
"No money. Same old story. My dad says that all the resources are moving to the bigger cities. Smaller cities like us can't afford to ship things all over the place, not without support from the government. But if we're not making money, we're not paying as much in taxes so services are cut. Everyone is struggling to get by with less. Dad and my uncle say that the government is trying to centralize everything so they can maintain control. They can't help those of us out here anymore. At least, that's what they say."
"That doesn't make sense. What changed?"
"Well, we think it’s the environment, mainly. We're a farming community, and the crops are getting smaller and smaller every year. The spring bud barely produced flowers and so the orchards in the valley are almost bare of fruit. Without spring rains, the irrigation ponds are dry, and without water for irrigation, the grain fields didn’t germinating properly. The crops are stunted. They are failing." Cory’s words stumbled to a halt.
"See, I live in the city, so I don't really see that. I figured we were just having a run of hot summers," said Mitch.
"There's more."
At the tone of his voice, Mitch glanced over at Cory. "That doesn't sound good."
"No. Our farm has been hit hard. Dad can't afford to put in the high-tech irrigation system that our buyer wants. They say it's a government requirement, but we aren't even making enough to pay our taxes. We sure as hell can't afford this new system."
He was quiet for a moment, unable to go on.
"So what's that mean for your farm?"
Cory looked over at his best friend, anguish in his lean face. "We're selling it off, Mitch. Everything. No one wants the land, but some of the big, government-controlled set-ups want the equipment. We're hoping someone will buy the house, too."
Mitch turned off the highway onto the dirt road that led out to Cory's home. "So..." he hesitated, "So, are you moving into town?"
"No. Mom and Dad both have taken jobs with one of the government operations.”
“Where?”
“Back East.”
“Nooo,” Mitch groaned. He pulled the car up in front of the house and set the car in park.
The two boys sat in the idling car for a few moments, speechless and staring out the windshield.
Mitch looked at Cory. “If you get a job here, you could stay with us. I’m sure my parents wouldn’t mind.”
“Man, listen,” said Cory softly. “There are no jobs here. There’s nothing here. My mom and dad can get me on with the company they will be working for. If I can get my foot in the door with a government operation, I can get opportunities I won’t ever have here.” He turned to Mitch. “Look, you can come with us. There are jobs there. We aren’t moving until I’m done with high school - at least my mom and I aren’t - so you’ve got time to consider it.”
Mitch sighed. “I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.”
“You’ve got time. I’m serious, dude. It would be great to have my best friend close by.”
The two friends looked at each other for a moment as the car engine rattled quietly.
“Well this sucks,” Mitch grumbled.
“Yeah.” With a sigh, Cory unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the car door. “Thanks for the ride, as usual Mitch. See you tomorrow?”
“Sure thing. Say hi to your mom and dad for me.”
“I will.” He slammed the passenger door and moved to the back of the car to get his bag out of the trunk. With a wave to Mitch, he climbed the broad porch steps as the car pulled back out on the gravel road.
Mitch drove home with a heavy heart.