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The Pumas got off to a strong start that season. We won our first four games soundly, even beating San Diego State thanks to a valiant defensive effort led by Kiley. Then we traveled out of conference to play the Washington Huskies for their Homecoming. Stauchel had drafted a game plan to upset the University Division ("Division I" in the future) team, involving our new starting halfback on some trick plays; several crossing routes for our receivers; and a specially-designed run blitz.
The game plan worked. Their offense was kept off-balance and had a rough time finding their rhythm. Meanwhile, me and Jericho Lancer, the halfback, kept the chains moving when the Pumas had the ball. We had them down 14-6 midway through the second quarter, and we could smell a big upset in the making.
I put together a drive from our 12 yard line. I hit our tight end for a nine-yard gain, then Gartenberg for 15 yards, then Fuentes for 18. Then, with the defense leery of another pass, I pitched out to Lancer on a power toss. Bartok and the other linemen diverted the Husky front four and Lancer was off like a banking jet. He was too fast for the linebackers, and juked the first defensive back. It looked like he was going to romp for big yardage. That's the last thought I remember having before I got freight-trained from behind.
I came to in pain and confusion, with the coaches and referees huddled around me. I don't remember what they asked or how I answered, but somebody helped me to my feet and off the field. Another player handed me a helmet, and I asked what it was for. "It's yours," they insisted.
Eventually I realized that it was, in fact, my helmet. It had popped right off my head upon impact.
I sat on the bench and tried to test the snap on the chinstrap, and realized something was wrong with my wrist.
The wrist on my throwing arm.
I couldn't throw with my wrist in that condition. I was out of the game.
I watched in disbelief as my backup went out on the field. He botched a handoff and fell on the ball for a loss.
The fullback picked up three yards. The backup QB threw an incomplete pass. The Pumas attempted a field goal, but the kick didn't have the distance.
The Huskies shoved the ball down the field to an easy score. The tide had turned and the dynamic was completely different, now. At halftime the score was Poly 14, Washington 13.
A doctor examined me while Stauchel talked to my teammates in the locker room. I missed whatever he told them. The doctor confirmed that I was done for the day, and that I needed to go to the hospital after the game for X-rays of my wrist, neck and ribs, and to be checked for concussion. The Husky who hit me had speared me in the back of the neck with his own helmet, causing me to black out and possibly damaging my vertebrae. The defensive player incurred a penalty for his cheap shot. The penalty had no effect on the outcome of the game and would have no outcome in my life or health, either.
The Huskies scored on the opening drive of the second half and took the lead for the first time. The roaring of the crowd sickened me. The Pumas went three-and-out. Backed up against the end zone, our punt was blocked. The Huskies recovered the ball for the touchdown and the blowout was underway. After that, the backup was intercepted three times.
The final score was a humiliating 53-14.
Coach Turner took me to the hospital in a taxi. The good news was: my wrist was only sprained, my ribs only bruised, and no permanent damage to my neck. Turner was amazed that nothing was broken. So. was I. The pain was bad enough, I thought something must be broken. The doctor found the trace of the scar from the battle at Valhalla Station and asked about it. I told him it was from a fishing accident.
Not only was the wrist just a sprain, but a mild sprain at that—it wouldn't require surgery, and I would be able to play again before the season was over. The doctor said I should rest, use ice packs regularly, elevate my wrist, and visit him again in a week.
I didn't want to miss the next game, but I didn't want to permanently mess my arm or neck up either, so I followed orders. Still, I never missed a practice, even being confined to the sidelines; and I coached my backup on play execution.
I returned to the hospital in a week. The doctor said he still didn't want me throwing the ball yet, and to come see him in three days.
While recovering, most of my professors seemed sympathetic. They allowed my quizzes to be proctored, so I wouldn't have to write. Deborah, my current girlfriend, stuck to me like glue to make sure I didn't do anything with my right hand.
I don't know why it didn't occur to me sooner, but I finally realized I should jump to Valhalla before my next doctor's appointment and spend a few weeks there taking it easy to make sure my injuries were healed before I came back.
***
THE COLONISTS HAD MADE many improvements since the first time I visited. The wall was complete, of course, and there was a steel net over the compound to discourage large winged predators. Many of the security agents had disappeared with Dad, but others had replaced them, and then some. All the buildings now had electricity. Doctors Lee and Manfredi had well-equipped laboratories, in reinforced underground chambers. Some of the nearby savannah had been cultivated for farming, and many different crops grew there.
Dr. Manfredi was the chief medical person, but also conducted fascinating research on DNA when not occupied with mundane responsibilities. Dr. Lee was the chief engineer, and had authorization to jump to BH Station where he cooperated with Dr. Torstenson on research and projects. Now that I was older, they not only shared more information with me, but I was able to grasp the concepts they worked with much better than I had before.
Madalina and I remained close. Biologically, I had almost caught up to her in age, now. She told me that after I graduated, she wanted to have my baby. This was flattering, but also a little scary.
My life had several seemingly independent compartments. Many were wild or exciting, but my life with Madalina on that exotic planet was the most stable. It was becoming the "back home" to me that the Orange Grove had been when I was still a kid.
I was infatuated with Juanita; but my affection for Madalina continued to grow. I valued our time together.
I was becoming a better judge of character. She was much different from my other girlfriends. A life with her would be nice. And children of our own? That sounded good. I could try to do for them what Dad had done for me.
***
THE PUMAS PULLED OFF a 24-21 win over the Westminster Griffins while I warmed the bench. I was thankful, but did feel a pang of apprehension that the backup QB might get my job if he did too well. I need not have worried. The doctor gave me a clean bill of health on my next visit, and everyone, including Stauchel, Gurtz, and the backup himself, was relieved that I was back.
Stauchel still preached his usual "well-balanced" philosophy, but now had added an "overcoming adversity" schtick. He must have made the same conclusion I did: that the Pumas fell apart psychologically after I was taken out of the Washington game, and the blocked punt sealed it. He now preached that we should expect something bad to happen at any time, and never be surprised by it. He used a lot of analogies, like cowboys getting back up on broncos after being thrown off, and Joe Louis getting knocked down in early rounds, only to pull himself off the canvas, get back in the fight, and KO the other fighter. He also referred to Sugar Ray Robinson, Jersey Joe Walcott, the Baltimore Colts, historic Bears-Giants games, and Notre Dame (a small college like ours, he reminded us, unknown to most football fans until Knute Rockne engineered a stunning upset over Army).
Stauchel brought in some guest speakers to inspire us that year—like a real-life cowboy from a ranch in Nevada; and Mr. O'Toole, who told us about some of his come-from-behind victories in professional fights.
Stauchel even played a recording of Churchill's "Never Surrender" speech, given at a time when the Germans seemed invincible and were kicking British ass all over Europe.
My return netted us a 32-17 victory over the Chadron Eagles.
We had a chance to put Stauchel's "overcoming adversity" mindset into practice that season after our defeat by Washington—once in our rematch against the Thunderwolves; and once against the Metro State Roadrunners.
It really did start with the assumption that disaster was going to strike at some point—so be ready for it. Then when it did happen, you had to be able to put the disaster behind you and start over with confidence. Whatever caused the disaster...a stupid mistake on our part, bad luck, or whatever...could not be seen as insurmountable or a sign of inferiority. It was just a problem to be solved...and we would become experts at solving problems.
The Pumas finished that season 9-1, but weren't invited to any of the new bowl games popping up all over the country. Still, our team was beginning to make a name for itself, and Stauchel was profiled in a few sporting magazines. He became a hero in Northeastern California and, at least on campus, so did I.
The sad part was, Bartok was graduating and we wouldn't have him the following year. Gartenberg, too, though with his attitude change he wouldn't really be missed.
***
I COULDN'T LOCATE DAD before Christmas break. I couldn't visit Mami or Juanita during the break without arousing suspicion (I was supposed to be serving overseas in the war). I couldn't spend it in Bloomington without possibly running into myself there (and I had no idea what complications that might cause). Spending as much down time as possible on Valhalla was a good idea, because of how much it slowed a person's biological entropy; but frankly, I was too young to appreciate that, and wanted to do something fun or different.
I remembered the safari Dad took me on in Africa, and how enchanted I was with that adventure. Africa was a fascinating continent that I had wanted to know more about ever since watching my first Tarzan movie.
I jumped to SA Station, and undertook a whirlwind tour. I borrowed one of Dad's old surplus Jeeps and, with a tent, rifle, and other supplies, headed north.
My first stop was Tanganyika. The locals usually spoke English. The scenery was spectacular and the climate was ideal. It was my favorite locale in 1961.
Next was the Congo—formerly the Belgian Congo and right then struggling with Katanga, which had declared independence the year before. I should have left the instant I felt the Big Spooky.
There was a lot of jungle in the Congo. It was hot, wet, and everything wanted to kill you—including most of the people. The Soviets and the United Nations didn't want Katanga to maintain its independence. The Belgians didn't officially recognize Katanga, but did provide some assistance to the new nation. Congolese gendarmes and Baluba tribesmen conducted rape-and-murder sprees against Katangans and whites, while UN "peacekeepers" arrested any whites they thought might be mercenaries hired by Katanga. I didn't speak French, so couldn't talk my way out of anything, and had to run from several parties who wanted to either kill or capture and interrogate me. At one point I was trapped by UN forces, and had to warp-jump out of there.
I found out the hard way that Africa was potentially dangerous place to be in the 1960s, as anti-colonial (often interchangeable with "anti-white") sentiment was very high, independence movements were gaining steam, and civil war was rumbling in many nations. The bloodshed in coming decades would be more horrific, but it was bad enough for me even then. After a couple more stops in such places, I decided to visit only English or Spanish-speaking countries.
Toward the end of my tour, I was thinking I should have stayed in Tanganyika, or even South Africa. But then I stopped in Sierra Leone.
This small country was on the coast. I had arrived during the dry season, which was not as pleasant as Tanganyika, but was hospitable enough after the heat of Bakersfield. The scenery was a picturesque blend of farmland, bush, and savanna. Most people spoke English, the government was stable, citizens enjoyed more personal freedom than any of the socialist regimes I had visited, and the nation was at peace. I decided to finish my Christmas Break there, sightseeing.