The boys were an enormous help, taking over the grilling and getting most of the burgers and dogs started and well on their way to being done by the time the first fans were arriving. I plated a dinner up for each of them and covered it in plastic wrap so they could head into the locker room to join the other players before coming out for dinner.
The entire team came out at 5:30 to a roaring crowd. Coach announced each of their names to whistles along with small bits of highlights from the season. Reed, of course, was saved for the end. When he made his way to the front of the crowd and climbed up the makeshift stage the student council had built for the party, the parking lot was filled with the thunderous sound of the entire town of Coolidge pounding fists on picnic tables. I saw the look of fear flash across his face briefly, but he was fast to tuck it away – ever the responsible pillar of pride for this community. I knew he took on this role with sincerity, and he truly felt responsible for delivering for his friends, his neighbors, his father and himself.
I stood on top of a picnic table in the back with Sienna to cheer for him loudly, and his half smile back at me stole my breath. He pulled his hat from his head and ran his fingers through his hair, slightly embarrassed by the lingering standing ovation from the crowd. When he put his hat back on, he kept his eyes low and looked up from beneath with a bit of a devious look to his face. Pausing, he held the mic in his hand while the crowd quieted down and waiting for just one word from their anointed one. Biting the tip of his tongue, he finally relented to a full blown grin and gave them what they wanted.
“We own this thing – let’s do this, Bears!” he shouted and the crowd responded with more pounding and screaming. I was in awe.
The team headed for the locker room to gear up and get ready to take the field for warm-ups. The rest of the crowd lingered until they opened the gates for seating at 6:45. I handled clean up for the grill on my own so Sienna could head in for band warm ups. Sarah sat at a table with her sister and Tatum nearby. I was a little irritated that she didn’t offer to help me, but I also knew she wouldn’t be much help anyhow. Sarah and manual labor didn’t mix well.
I was wiping down the tables and putting all of the leftover buns and condiments in a box when I noticed someone picking up a rag and wiping down the tables with me.
“You grill a pretty mean burger, young lady,” Buck said, a toothpick hanging from the side of his mouth. He was wearing a golden shirt with a purple tie and a deep purple suit jacket. On anyone else this outfit would have seemed gaudy, but it was perfect on Buck. He was a force to be reckoned with, and if the man wanted to wear a purple jacket, by God there wasn’t anyone that was going to tell him it was a bad idea.
He pulled his jacket off and draped it over my folding chair, then rolled up his sleeves to help me take apart the grill. I smiled at him and inside wondered at his amazing kindness. I wanted to have a meaningful conversation in the worst way, but I couldn’t seem to find the words, so instead, in my nervousness, I began to hum “Brown-eyed Girl” by Van Morrison.
“You know, I sing a mean Karaoke of that song. How do you know it, isn’t it a little old for you?” he winked.
“Oh, well, my family says I have an old soul,” I said, smiling and ringing out my wash cloth with a little flair.
Buck chuckled and continued to pack everything away with me while I hummed, every now and again humming along. I understood why he was so successful. The man had charisma, yes. But he also had that certain special quality that made you want him to like you, to embrace you and take you in as one of his friends. Even as a teenager I felt honored just having this small, tiny thing in common with him. I was running on a sort of high when I looked back over to Sarah and locked eyes with Tatum, who did not look pleased to see me getting along so well with Buck.
In seconds, Tatum was picking up a towel helping clean off the spots on the grill lid. I noticed that, while Buck welcomed her with a “hey there, sugar,” he also wasn’t humming and whistling anymore. And I felt a small victory at that.
Buck helped wheel the grill back into the storage area and headed to the stands to take his spot amid the many reporters and scouts who had come to see his boy pull off the amazing. And Reed did not disappoint.
The score wasn’t proof of his performance, the Bears winning 14-7. But every yard, every point and every small spark that helped recharge the team was thanks to something inspiring Reed did on the field. I was amazed by his ability, but even more so, his ability to lead. He was years older than his age on that field.
When the game was over, Reed stayed out on the field for nearly 45 minutes talking to the local newspaper reporters and two TV stations from Tucson and Phoenix that covered the game. I hung out by the gates with Sarah and Sienna for a bit, my eyes dancing between Reed on the field and Tatum, who was sitting in the snack bar window holding court with the underclassmen (all my classmates) who were listening to her talk about Reed and how amazing their relationship was. I wanted to shove her from her perch and tell her how vapid she was, and how fake her entire relationship was, how she didn’t really know Reed at all. But, I knew I needed Tatum to like me, or at least tolerate me. And I knew, at the end of the day, she knew what his lips felt like. While I, well, I might have some nice texts and a letter that was falling apart on the folds tucked away in my bedroom.