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Email feedback can be sent to trager2275@gmail.com. © 2015 by Eric Trager.
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CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
The next two weeks went by uneventfully. Sean was, so far, able to produce the winning record that he felt was his responsibility. The team was running smoothly. The players coalesced into a talented unit, albeit a tad less talented than the previous year's squad, but they were improving each and every day. The other Coaches warmed to Sean's no-nonsense style of leadership and his willingness to delegate authority as long as is produced the desired results.
Currently, the Cougars posted a 3-0 record, most recently having beaten their closest Big Eight Conference rival from last year, the Madison West Regents. Sean took a gamble for that game, electing to start Kris Krieger figuring that the Regents would be expecting Kevin Masterson, against whom they knew how to play due to the fact that they had all previously been team mates. It wasn't so much that Krieger ran different plays than Masterson would, it was that Krieger wasn't the expected opponent. And he acquitted himself well. So well, in fact, that Sean knew with confidence that he could put the Junior Quarterback in any time he pleased and not have to worry about it. It was satisfying as well that the Cougars played the Regents away, in Madison, and still won. Yes, it was a narrow victory by the score of 21-17, but it was still a W.
Monday morning early, Sean was contacted by the Sports Editor of The Janesville Gazette asking if Sean would be willing to sit for a short interview. Sean agreed, but flummoxed the Editor when he made a condition of the interview his review and approval of the questions to be asked prior to sitting down. The Editor initially balked, but gave in when Sean stated that the condition was not negotiable. He reminded the Editor that the entire team was being asked to do without their near-legendary Head Coach, and that he therefore could not entertain the possibility of walking into a reporter's trap. Now, or ever. Gob smacked, the Sports Editor agreed to Sean's condition and emailed him a list of questions. Sean read them over, deleted a couple, changed the wording of some others, and sent the list back with a note stating simply, "The attached list of questions is what the interview shall consist of. No deviations."
Again, the Sports Editor was shell shocked.
Mid-morning, Sean received a notice from a Student Monitor to report to Principal McVay's office. Upon doing so, the Principal sat him down and handed him a letter. "Read this. I just printed it out..."
It was a notice from the WIAA stating that they were about to launch an inquiry into a student taking the roll of Head Coach in a WIAA-sanctioned interscholastic sport. "Well, what do you think?" Principal McVay asked.
"Pardon my French," Sean said, handing the letter back while pointing at it with his other index finger, "but this is a crock of shit. Wanna know what? I figured some idiot might pull this crap, so I did my research. The only statement in the WIAA regulations concerning Coaching staff is that it be done in accordance with a member district's policies. Well, guess what... I reviewed ALL of the policies of the Janesville Public Schools, too, with respect to this, and there is nothing at all mentioned when it comes to the temporary incapacity of a Coach and how a replacement is chosen. Nothing whatsoever."
"Yes, I am aware of that..."
"Well, are you also aware that according to Coach Slater, it's in his contract that should he become temporarily incapacitated that he, and he alone, has the authority to name the person acting in his place?"
"I was not aware of that."
"That's what Coach told me. So, in the absence of any written district policy anywhere that would supersede what's in Coach's contract, the language in his contract IS the district policy that would apply in this case. If I were the school system, I'd tell the WIAA to fuck off. They haven't got a case. Period."
"I'm not sure we can tell them to fuck off..." Principal McVay laughed.
"Well, what I just said is how it is. I mean, why would they waste their time investigating nothing? I'd like to know who's behind it, because this isn't their first time at the rodeo. They know what their rules are just as well as they know what their rules are not. They're banking on the School Board and the Administration being a bunch of fucking pussies. Anyway, will I be replaced? Yes, or no..."
"I don't see the need for that, at least not now, but I don't call the shots. I imagine the School Board will want to get involved."
"Those numb-nuts?" Sean said derisively. "They couldn't shit their way out of a paper bag... The only people they care about pleasing are the Teacher's Union goons."
"No comment," Principal McVay chuckled.
"I want you to know that I've agreed to do an interview with The Gazette. I'm pretty sure they don't know about this, but I'm gonna let `em know... I was asked to do a job, and I can assure you a hundred percent that I WILL NOT let the team down. I intend to do the job I was asked to do until Coach Slater returns. And that's just the start and the end of it. If I have to, I'll turn public opinion in this town against the WIAA. I can use my public persona any way I choose. It's a sword, cuts both ways..."
"Your determination is commendable."
"Look, with everything I've been through in the past year, I never lost sight of one thing, and that's when you say you're gonna do something you are duty-bound to see it through. A hundred percent. Do they think I'm just going to roll over? That I'll disappear? I will not! Nothing doing! The guys are depending on me, and like I said, I won't let them down. Do you think for one second I'd let any of those men, especially the Seniors in their last year, lose a whole season? Absolute horeseshit! These WIAA people don't scare me. They can kiss my ass."
"Very well... I'll let you know if there are any developments."
"Thanks. Now maybe I can get on with the rest of my day..." Sean rose, and left the Principal's office rolling his eyes. For his part, Principal McVay's eyes were popping out on stalks.
After practice that day, Sean and Andy made the short trek from the school to Ginny's house.
"Well, it's my favorite two hotties!" Ginny said, answering the door. "What brings you over this way?"
"Ginny, you remember you said if we ever needed anything to come see you? Well, there is something we need..." Sean answered. "We've never asked before, but..."
"Look, you two, I fucking meant what I said. Let's go to the patio. Care for a cold one?"
On the patio, Ginny handed them both a 16-ounce PBR. "OK, boys. Spill it!"
Sean went on to spell out for Ginny the substance of his meeting that morning with Principal McVay. "OK, so like what do I do to get this bullshit off my back?"
"Alright, look, Sean. There's nine members on the School Board. Four of them wouldn't be there without my, shall we say, backing. The other five are dipshits, but they know I can have them replaced at the next election if I feel like it. For now, we'll see which way the Board wants to go with this, but I'll have a word with my four people. And just remember, they've got a referendum on the ballot this Spring for construction of a new school, so unless they want someone like me coming out against that, I'm pretty sure they'll see it my way... IF they want their shiny, new school toy to play with, that is... And we all know how these kinds of people just LOVE to build monuments to themselves... You'd think they were from North Korea, or something... Anyway, what do the guys on the team think?"
"They don't know about this. Yet..."
"Well, it's not something you can keep from them. If you do, and if they find out some other way it will damage their trust in you, mark my words. Especially since you have no control over when they'll find out, or from whom. I mean, you absolutely know you can expect a story from one of those Commie Rag Madison news outlets... Remember the hatchet job the TV station tried to do on Coach Slater last year... Don't let that be you. You're too smart for that, Sean."
"I'll tell them tomorrow."
"I certainly would. Now, you leave the rest to me. That's what I'm here for. And next week we need to have a little meeting about that hotel deal. I think there's a way forward here..."
"OK, thanks, Ginny. We'll see you next week."
Ginny knew exactly what she needed to do. She began by picking up the phone and making a series of calls. No one in town, if they were smart, declined to take a business call from Ginny Miller. An hour later, satisfied she'd got the ball rolling in the right direction, she placed a call to the School System's Athletic Director.
She was merely lining people up, but made it clear she'd not tolerate anyone going wobbly.
Ginny knew she would also need to find out who was behind this annoyance and make sure they understood it was the wrong decision on their part. To that end, she contacted Charlie Ditmar, having been well impressed with his firm's handling of security at her home during the Bill Kennedy ordeal. Ditmar said this would be a cakewalk and he'd have it wrapped up shortly.
Content things would work out her way, Ginny ordered a pizza.
At the end of practice the next day, Sean gathered the team round. "Gentlemen, it appears that the WIAA has taken it upon themselves to do what they call launching an investigation into my position as Acting Head Coach for the time being of our Varsity Football program. I want you all to know that I've been given a job to do and I intend to do it. I consider this to be nothing more than an act prompted by cowardice and treachery. On the part of whom, I don't know yet. But I'll find out. What I do know, and what I want you to know is that I'm not going anywhere. I won't let you down. I asked when this all happened that you believe in me, and I want you all to know that I believe in you. We're a team, gentlemen."
Silence greeted the end of Sean's remarks. Then one by one, the players began to applaud and cheer. Someone called out, "You got brass balls, Coach!"
"I felt I had to make you aware," Sean said. "You'd have found out anyway and best you find out from me. That will be all for today. Dismissed."
In the locker room, Kevin Masterson as Captain of the Offense told the team that they were all to meet at the Italian restaurant after showering.
Once there, Masterson said the meeting would be short but he just wanted it off school grounds. He went around the room and asked each man, yes or no, if they stood behind Sean in his position as Acting Head Coach.
To a man the answer was an unhesitating yes.
"Then here's what we're gonna do..." Masterson proceeded to outline for the team what he felt was a strong course of action should it become necessary. He then called for a vote of the team. When he called for the ayes, the response was deafening, and when he called for the nays there was only plain, dead silence.
"Alright, then, let's go home. I've got everyone's phone numbers, so if the time comes I'll send out a group text and let everyone know when and where it's gonna be a go... This is BS, guys. Total fucking BS. Coach Wyman literally almost broke his neck last year in the Championship game because that's the kind of guy he is. He did it for the team. Just like any of us would do and just like what he's doing now is for the team. He won't let us down and we CAN'T let him down."
Again, there was unanimous vocal assent.
The next day after practice, Sean sat down with the Gazette Sports Editor for his interview.
EDITOR: Coach Wyman, thanks for agreeing to sit down for this interview. Shall we get started?
SEAN: Fire away...
EDITOR: First of all, we'd just like everyone to know that Coach Slater is in our thoughts and prayers. How do you feel stepping in?
SEAN: He's in all of our thoughts and prayers, too. He's a great man. We owe him our Championship from last year, and over the years he's touched the lives of thousands of students at this school in ways he probably doesn't even realize himself. Anyway, how does it feel? Look, I was asked to do a job. I intend to see it through until the time Coach Slater is back. We're a team. We feel Coach's absence to be sure, but he asked me to just get on with the season, and he asked the same of the team. We can talk more about that later – I see you have a list of questions there so why don't we run through them...
EDITOR: I notice we're meeting here in the Head Coach's office.
SEAN: Yes, and you'll also notice the name on the door says Robert Slater. I am not the Head Coach. I only sit in his chair for a few hours every day. And it's a big chair to fill.
EDITOR: You've got a 3-0 record so far. How do you view the team doing going forward?
SEAN: We'll just take it one game at a time. That's the only way to do it. What I can tell you is that this team is hard workers. Every single one of them. Like last year, we're blessed to have two capable Quarterbacks, but I don't want to overlook the other positions. At the beginning of the season we were a little concerned with the defensive backfield, but they've really come along in terms of actual game performance. So far, the coaching staff is pleased with what we've seen. That said, as we all know excellence chases perfection, but it doesn't always catch it. Those aren't my words, they're Coach Slater's. Right now, I'd rate our performances as very good. Our goal is excellence. So, we'll see... Perfection? Who knows...
EDITOR: Are you at all concerned being both a student and a Coach?
SEAN: No. Next question.
EDITOR: Is it true that in addition to everything else you have twin babies that are only a few month's old?
SEAN: Stop the tape. Right now. That question was submitted in advance of this interview and I deleted it. It was not to have been part of this interview, and to be honest it's none of your fucking business. You're the Sports Editor, you don't write a gossip column. Here's the deal: if that question appears in the paper, I promise you that neither you, nor anyone else at your newspaper will never interview me, or any of the other Coaches ever again. We're here to talk about the Craig High School Varsity football program, not my personal life. Am I being clear?
The Sports Editor was taken aback, but one look from Sean indicating that he was deadly serious put the issue to rest. The interview went on from that point in a factual manner, with the Editor finally winding up.
EDITOR: In closing, is there anything else you'd care to add, Coach?
SEAN: Yes. And this is a scoop for you. It's come to my attention that the WIAA has stated they intend to launch an investigation on whether, or not I can fill in for Coach Slater until he's able to come back. I would like to assure most importantly all of the players and all of their parents that I am indeed able to do so under my understanding of the existing policies of not only the WIAA but also the Janesville Public Schools. I'd add as well that I've already made the players aware of the WIAA's intentions. It was my duty to do so because had I not, and then had they found out through third-party information, they'd have rightly lost all trust and confidence in me. I owed it to them because we're a team. I don't see that there's anything more to add on this subject at this juncture. To me it's a non-issue, but if they wish to waste their time...
EDITOR: This is a bombshell!
SEAN: I'll keep you abreast of any developments.
EDITOR: Thank you for sitting down with us, Coach.
SEAN: Thank YOU.
As it turned out, the next game saw another Cougar victory, upping their record to 4-0. As a result, there was additional pressure put on by the WIAA.
At the same time, the twins continued to thrive. Now, they were a little bit above average in terms of both height and weight for babies their age, and Doctor Schroeder noted their cognition to be superior although he also noted that it was also identical. Exactly identical. What one could do, the other could do and in the same amount of time. What one couldn't do, neither could the other.
It occurred to Sean the words of Madame Zastrow that if the twins were to have The Gift, Sean would know. After dinner that night, he asked Andy what he thought.
"Hey, Brown Eyes, you remember what Madame Zastrow said, you know, like if the Twins would have The Gift?"
"Now that you mention it, yeah..."
"Well, I mean, didn't you ever notice how everything they do is always at the same time, even their development? I mean, they weigh the same, they take a dump at the same time, they seem to learn new things at the same time and what about that they raise hell if they're separated? I mean, ya gotta admit..."
"Yeah, I guess you're right..."
"Look, she knew your mom. Can you call and get an appointment with her? For Sunday? Make it as early in the morning as possible. I'll let Mrs. Cheadle know that she'll come with us."
"What if she doesn't take Sunday appointments."
"Tell her we'll pay double the rate. Triple if we have to. I don't care how much it costs. Don't worry, she'll do it... They are her Great-great nephews."
"OK...." Andy laughed as he made the call, telling Sean they were all set for 7:30 a.m. on Sunday.
"7:30?!" Sean asked, askance.
"Dat iss vut she said..." Andy replied, mimicking the old Russian Jew.
"OK, I'll let Mrs. Cheadle know. She'll prolly tear a strip off me. I swear, she thinks the British Empire still exists, and that she's Queen Victoria..."
"We are not amused..." Andy joked back.
"OK, well, I'll go tell her and then how about you amuse my asshole..."
"I'll be waiting in the bedroom with my dick in my hand."
"Be there in a flash!" Sean smirked.
Entering the nursery, Sean found Mrs. Cheadle. "We're leaving for Kenosha at 5:45 in the morning. The boys are coming and so are you. We'll be meeting their Great-great Aunt."
"Are you daft?! Sir?!" Mrs. Cheadle exclaimed.
"Hey, I didn't set the time, and I don't have time to argue about it. Anyway, I got another appointment with Andy, and it's right now if ya catch my drift..."
"That's too bloody much information, Sir!"
Sean just laughed as he bolted down the hall, hearing Mrs. Cheadle's British sarcasm growing fainter in the background. Entering their bedroom, Sean saw his husband as he said he would be: in bed, on his back, legs spread, eyes closed and slowly masturbating. Sean saw glints of precum shining on the head of Andy's big cock. Even after all this time with Andy, Sean stopped for an instant to take in the beautifully massive shaft with which he was about to be impaled.
Andy moaned softly, not yet aware of Sean's presence. He took his precum on his index finger, inserting it into his mouth. He writhed languidly, continuing his slow jacking, and fondling his balls. Sean by now was completely hard, reaching into his gym shorts to manipulate his own member, and finger his asshole.
Silently, he stripped off his clothing. Then he padded toward the bed, Andy still unaware. Once at the bed in a flash he engulfed Andy's hefty, dripping cock into his mouth and throat causing Andy to buck and hiss. Sucking his lover for a minute, Sean found he was in no mood to wait. He wanted it now.
While Andy's cock impaled his throat, Sean turned, placing his ass in direct line with Andy's mouth. Instantly, Andy started eating Sean's hole causing Sean to go rigid as he felt his anus relaxing and falling open, warmed and titillated by his husband. Soon, Andy replaced his mouth with two, then three fingers, giving Sean a ferocious prostate milking eliciting a river of clear, sweet precum. Andy savored Sean's precum, then deemed him to be ready for the taking.
Andy's recent growth spurt netted him clearing six feet tall, barely albeit, but still at six feet, and all his exercising paid off in a lean, chiseled 175-pound body. His strength allowed him to flip Sean over, pull him to his knees, position him on all fours and then in one motion to enter him.
Both Andy and Sean jolted, Andy from the sensation of his lover's hole in supple firmness clamping down on the length and sensitive head of his dick, Sean from the warm heat of being filled by Andy's ample pole.
Andy was in no mood to take it slow. He fucked Sean fast and manhandled him roughly. With each stroke, he pulled almost completely out, then rammed back in with full force. Sean begged Andy to fuck him even harder.
Both next door, and forty miles to the north-northwest, in Madison, two other young couples were in the throes of animal passion. Jim Nolan ravished Danny's ass, somewhat of a rarity as Danny usually topped, while in Madison Brett plunged Danny's lookalike cousin.
Three sets of lovers drove themselves toward powerful orgasm. Six sets of balls prepared their loads. Andy pounded Sean's ass mercilessly. Jim had Danny begging to cum inside him, Brett made ready to withdraw and shoot his load on Tim's face.
Tim often asked Brett to spray him with cum. The previous Winter at the cabin up North, the boys drew straws. Tim came up with the short straw and by dint of losing the draw was assigned bukkake duty. He found he enjoyed it, and ever since then let Brett know that he got off especially hard being coated in cum. Brett, for his part, had the ability to orgasm multiple times in relatively short succession, and even the third load was a decent one. Tim preferred cum ropes laid on his face where he could feel the warmth and lap up the ones closest to the reach of his tongue.
Tim knew most would regard his like of this as degrading and submissive. He didn't care. Seeing other guys cum turned Tim on, and Brett knew it and was more than happy to oblige his husband. More often than not, simply the sight of Brett shooting his load was enough to make Tim get off. The truth was that Brett and Tim were each in love with everything about the other one. They had long ago decided that each one could put up with a dalliance here, or there so long as the other one was involved as well, and the other two couples weren't the only ones involved. Brett and Tim already had made quite a splash in the gay student scene in Madison, and a lot of people knew them by name. It wasn't at all unusual for them to have an overnight guest.
Danny and Jim, on the other hand, led a more conventional life. Faithful to each other except for the trip to the cabin, they delighted in using the sling that Andy removed from the main house when the nursery was done and put in the otherwise unused bedroom of the apartment over the garage with the understanding that Andy and Sean had the use of it when they desired. Tonight, however, Danny and Jim made use of it as Jim plowed Danny's ass with abandon. Most of the time, Jim bottomed for Danny but that only served to slightly mask the fact that Danny was an accomplished bottom and could make his lover cum simply by the way he controlled his anal muscles to massage Jim's cock. This always brought Jim to a shattering orgasm and tonight would be no different.
Andy continued to pound Sean into a whimpering, gelatinous mass. Sean bade Andy to go faster and rougher as he could feel himself nearing the point of no return. Gasping, Sean shot his load all over his chest for Andy to see. Sean always had muskily-scented sperm, and this time not only did the air hang heavy with the scent of his sperm, the volume of the load was so heavy Andy couldn't take it any longer, and filled Sean's ass with a river of warm seed. The feeling of Andy spasming inside of him together with feeling the heat of Andy's cum streams pushed Sean over the edge to a second orgasm almost as heavy as the first, so much so that most of the hair on Sean's chest was glued together with his perfume-rich semen. He scooped some of it up on his finger and fed both himself and Andy as they collapsed into each other's arms.
The next morning bright and early, Sean, Andy, Mrs. Cheadle and the babies set off for Kenosha. Joey and Lennie never fussed much in the car, and were asleep for the entire trip almost as soon as Sean was done backing out of the driveway.
Arriving at Madame Zastrow's place of business, Andy and Mrs. Cheadle carried the babies inside while Sean parked the Equinox and hurried back to meet the others. It was not until Sean entered the building that they heard Madame Zastrow stirring in the back room.
"I villa be right viss yoo, boys," She called out. Entering the room, she first glanced at Mrs. Cheadle. "Yoo are English Nanny, da?"
"Yes, I am. Mrs. Cheadle," Mrs. Cheadle replied, extending her hand which Madame Zastrow did not shake, but rather turned over and studied the lines in the palm.
"I see yoo huff much experience vit da little oness. Ziss vill not take lonk. Let me see ze babies. Ah, yess. Ziss one iss Joseph, and ze udder vun iss Leonart. Zey look like yoor mudder, Sean, ant zey vill grow up too look like her, too. I can see zat zey vill be goot boyss, but zat iss not vy yoo haff come to me today..."
"Um, no, not it isn't..." Sean said.
"Vell, let's get to ze point, Zen, shall ve? I can tell you dat dese boys haff gift. Dey both do. Ant zair gift is very stronk. Yoo see, my sistair, Vehrgeenia, she hass gift, but only little. More like eentuition. My daughtair, too. Now, zese boys, zey haff gift maybe stonger dan me."
"Oh, wow..." Sean said.
"Ant right now day want be togedder, nyet? Dey cry venn yoo take zem avay from one anudder, da?
"Yes," Sean replied.
"Dat iss because I know dat Leonart almost did not make it to diss vorld alife. Even den, Joseph know dat. He feelss he must to protect Leonart, and Leonart feels he iss not safe vitout Joseph near to him. Diss vill pass, but in life, Joseph vill alvays to protect Leonart, and in time dey vill alvays protect each udder. Dey are goot boyss and dey vill not giff you any trouble..."
"OK, but what about..."
"Say no more. Yoo want know eef dey be like dere mudder in some vay. Nyet. Dey inherit gift trough dere mudder, but dat eess all. Dere mudder hat gift, too, but she did not know how to use it. She use it for bad, not goot. Dat is vy she die. Dese boys vill haff dere personalities more like your mudder, more like yoo. I already say dat dey vill bee goot boyss. Don't to vorry."
"Well, I just hope I do alright as a dad..."
"Yoo vill be goot fadder, Sean. And dere vill be vun, maybe two more little vuns. Very vell, zat iss all ze time I haff for today. Andrew, I vant see yoo ven de udders leafe. De rest of you can go now."
Sean and Mrs. Cheadle shrugged, thanked Madame Zastrow and walked back to the car with Joey and Lennie still asleep in their portable car seats. Once they were out of the building, Madame Zastrow bade Andy sit down.
"Andrew, giff me your right hand."
Andy complied.
Madame Zastrow turned it over, intently reading the lines in Andy's palm.
She squinted, and muttered something in Russian to herself. She continued that way for the better part of two minutes.
"Andrew, yoo can neffer tell to Sean vat I am going to tell to yoo. I tell yoo now so zat ven da time come yoo vill know..." She then proceeded to give Andy some explanation that took only a short time. "Dat iss all vat I haff for yoo, Andrew. You are goot man. I vill not see yoo again. My time iss not lonk for diss vorld. I should haff been gone alreaty, but Gott said I must to stay for a little vile yet. Goot bye, Andrew."
Andy looked at Madame Zastrow. He found himself unable to speak, but he did give her a hug, nodded his head, and left.
"What did she want?" Sean asked.
"She told me about the last conversation she had with my mom..." Andy answered.
Sean was not a hundred percent convinced, but for now he had no choice to believe Andy.
The trip back to Janesville was uneventful, even when the babies woke up, demanding to be fed. Mrs. Cheadle, ever prepared, had two warm bottles inside an insulated shoulder bag. She had seated herself in the middle of the back seat in order to easily feed both tots, and when they had their fill, skillfully burped them without removing them from their car seats. As soon as that was done, they fell back to sleep for the remainder of the ride, although about twenty- five miles east of Janesville, near Lake Geneva, Andy remarked that his nose was telling him there were two newly filled diapers in the back seat.
Mrs. Cheadle laughed, uncharacteristically, and quipped, "Well, how do you think I bloody like it, Sir? I'm bloody sitting in the middle of two shite piles!"
"Thought you'd be used to it by now," Sean smirked.
"I'll bloody remember you said that!" Mrs. Cheadle responded. "Sir..."
"It does stink," Andy said. "You think we should stop and change them?"
"Yeah, I guess we should..." Sean answered. He pulled over at the next Kwik Trip, knowing they'd have changing stations in the bathrooms. A few minutes later, both babies, as fresh as roses, were popped back into the car allowing for a breathable remainder of the trip.
On Monday when Sean got home after practice, there was an envelope for him bearing the return address of `Janesville Public Schools, 527 S. Franklin Street, Janesville, WI.'
Sean opened it, removed the enclosed letter and read it. The letter requested his presence at a public meeting of the School Board scheduled ten days hence, the topic of the meeting to be Sean's appointment as Acting Head Coach of the Craig High School Varsity Football program.
"Alright," Sean thought to himself, "They're gonna wish they never scheduled this fucking meeting."
That week saw the Cougars notch up another win, holding on to their unbeaten record by making it now 4-0. Sean was in good shape for the meeting he thought, and he'd had a conversation about it with his starting Quarterback. They met in Sean's office the day before their most recent game.
"Mister Masterson, thank you for coming," Sean opened the meeting.
"Sure, Coach... What's up?"
"Well, Mister Masterson, it appears as if our illustrious School Board is sticking their nose into my appointment as Acting Head Coach. Now, ordinarily I wouldn't do this, but seeing as you and I are here alone, I think it's OK." Sean handed Kevin Masterson the letter he received from the School Board. "Read this..."
Kevin Masterson read the letter with increasingly furrowed brow, looked up, and handed it back to Sean.
"What is your opinion?" Sean asked.
"Well, I think it's a load of crap. As far as I know, Coach had the right to name you as acting Coach. Am I right about that?"
"You are..."
"Would you be upset with me if I shared with the rest of the team the existence of this meeting? And it's a public meeting, right?"
"I would not be upset if handled correctly, and yes, it is to be a public meeting."
"I know exactly what to do."
"I thought you might, Mister Masterson. I think that will be all for now."
"OK, Coach. This is gonna work out. You'll see."
The evening before, Sean had scanned the letter, emailing it to George Dickson, Coach Slater, and Ginny. If he was going to go down, he didn't intend to go down without a fight.
On the appointed Wednesday evening at the School Board building, the Chairman of the School Board called the meeting to order with a standing-room-only audience. In the audience were Coach Slater, albeit in a wheelchair, George Dickson, Tim Dickson, Brett Dowling, Andy, John, Joe Wyman, Ginny, Principal McVay and not to be missed by anyone, the entire Craig Varsity football coaching staff as well as the entire team itself, each man in his Jersey, as well as the Cheerleading Squad, their Coach and as many of the student body as would fit in the room. So many people showed up that the attending Police Officer had to turn people away.
The President of the Board opened the meeting, stating that the purpose was to help decide whether, or not it was wise to allow the football program at Craig High School to become the target of a WIAA investigation.
He then asked the School System's Attorney to address the Board and take a few questions. The Attorney's testimony was uninformative as it seemed to lack any legal analysis and merely serve to reinforce what appeared to be the a priori majority position of the Board that the Janesville Schools should shy away from the issue as if the threat alone of an investigation were enough.
After that, Principal McVay was called and he answered a few questions in a bland way, although not so bland as to indicate to the Board that he agreed with what seemed to be afoot.
Next was the Superintendent of Schools, a woman whom, to Sean, seemed to prove the old axiom that in life most people rise to their level of incompetence. He found her to be obtuse, unclear, waffling and unable to put together a coherent English spoken sentence.
After the Superintendent's performance, Sean was surprised that the President of the Board called him next.
During questioning, Sean did not veer from his standpoint that he understood it was part of Coach Slater's contract that he could name anyone he chose as Acting Head Coach in the event he was temporarily incapacitated and that the WIAA rules only stated that such appointments be made within the policy of each individual school district. Sean then turned the tables on the President of the Board by asking him if he was able to recite for everyone just what the written policy of the Janesville School district was with respect to such things in order that everyone could have a clear understanding.
The President of the Board stammered, deferring to the District's Attorney. The Attorney could give no clear answer.
At that moment, Coach Slater, through a heroic effort, slammed his cane to the ground and stood from his wheelchair. "It'sh time for me to shpeak!" Coach Slater said in a gravely yet comprehensively authoritative voice. "I can't shtay here all Goddamn night!"
The room fell stone silent, all eyes on the long-time Coach.
Coach Slater waved a sheaf of papers. "Here!" he stated to the President of the Board. "Here'zh a copy of my contract. I had my Attorney, George Dickshon right over there," Coach said pointing at George, "review the damn thing, and he schircled the part where it shays I can name whoever I want azh Acting Head Coasch if I'm temporarily out of action. Here! Read it and then we can all get the hell out of here! You have no other polischy, and you know it. Thish izh a joke!"
The entire School Board, the Superintendent and the Board's Attorney sat with mouths agape.
"I shaid take thish and effing read it!" Coach Slater bellowed. "All you're doing is washting the time of a young man who'zh doing a damn fine job at shomething he never asked for! How dare you! You should be giving him your shupport!"
At that point, it was not lost on the Board members that Ginny, seated in the front row, was filing her nails and stonily staring down all nine of them seemingly simultaneously.
The President of the Board pointed to George Dickson, who had caught his eye. "Attorney Dickson, could you come to the podium?"
Once at the podium, the President asked George if he had reviewed Coach Slater's contract."
"I have," George replied.
"And what is your opinion?"
"I reviewed Coach Slater's contract as well as all of the public records that are available online with respect to the WIAA's policies and the District's policies on such things and a District policy manual dated June of 2014 that was furnished to me by Coach Slater. I found that the District's online information as well as the policy manual itself is silent on the subject. Therefore, it is my opinion as an Old Country Lawyer that what controls here what is stated in Coach Slater's contract."
"Wait!" The Superintendent exclaimed. "The Board can alter its policy at any time! If it is the decision of the Board to avoid this WIAA investigation, a policy can be made here and now! We can have done with this whole thing right now!"
At this, George Dickson returned to his seat, thoroughly disgusted.
The President of the Board then threw the meeting open for public commentary.
Ginny rose and strode to the podium even though she hadn't been called. She didn't care.
"Good evening, Mister President, Board Members and Madame Superintendent."
"Good evening, Mrs. Miller," the Board President, who was not one of Ginny's people, replied.
"Mister President, before I begin I'd like to address the remarks just made by the Superintendent. Never before have I heard a person in a high position say something so craven and cowardly. Her remarks were a disgrace, and she ought to withdraw them. Of course, it is true that within legal bounds the Board can make, unmake, or change policy at their pleasure. We all know that. What bothers me is that there was no reason to make those remarks unless Madame Superintendent would rather not have someone snooping around, and for whatever reason that might be I couldn't possibly imagine..."
"She can imagine a reazhon alright..." Coach Slater laughed.
"But be that as it may," Ginny continued, "that's a different issue and one which is not being looked into tonight," Ginny glared at the Superintendent who looked away. Just as I suspected," Ginny thought to herself, a fucking chicken shit.'
"We are here tonight to help the School Board make the determination as to whether, or not the School Board is going to stand behind a young man who is giving selflessly to his school mates. Whether, or not the School Board will honor a contract written between them and Coach Slater. Whether or not we, as a community, have the backbone to stand up and do the right thing. Well, will we, or won't we? What's so hard about this? Let's not take all night planning on this, OK... It's a simple issue, and let me simplify it for you even more. Either we stand behind this young man, or I review the pledge I gave some months ago to make a substantial contribution toward the building of the new Elementary School that you say you need so much, and without my contribution you will not have the money to do. If you can change your policies, then so can I. That is all I have to say."
Ginny did not wait to be excused by the President, she merely returned to her seat in the front row, continuing to somehow glare at all the Board Members as if they were one person.
The President asked for others to come forward. In all about twenty people did. All supported Sean. At the end, the President asked if there was anyone else who wished to state an opinion.
Kris Krieger indicated that he would like to be heard. He approached the podium, and once there was asked to state his name.
"I'm Kris Krieger. I'm the backup Quarterback on the Varsity football team, and I'm one of the team Captains. Um, we had a vote, and I'm the one the team picked to speak for all of us."
"What class are you in?" The Superintendent asked.
"I'm sorry, ma'am?" Krieger responded, "I think the President of the Board is running the meeting and I don't think he called on you to ask me anything... Anyway, I'd like to go ahead with what I have to say. It won't take long."
The Superintendent at that point asked the President of the Board if she might ask a question.
The President nodded.
"What class are you in this year?" she asked somewhat imperiously.
"I'm a Junior, ma'am..."
"And your age is?"
"Sixteen, ma'am. But that's two questions and you said you only had one..."
"Mister President, I move we do not hear from this young man. We should be hearing from adults."
Before the President could respond, Kris Krieger responded. "Well, Madame Superintendent, then why did you hear from second graders when you had a meeting about how kids feel about God in the classroom? Why did you hear from all kinds of kids of all ages on the issue of standardized testing? Did you think no one else was aware that you did these things? It was OK for you to parade underage kids through here then so they could say what you wanted to hear, so what possibly is your reason for not hearing from me now as the chosen representative of the entire football team? Do you think I might say something that you DON'T want to hear? I'm sorry, I really am, I didn't come here to pick a fight, but I'm going to continue now..."
The room silent, Kris Krieger continued. "As I said before I was interrupted, I won't take long. The message I was instructed to deliver to you tonight, and by a unanimous vote of the entire Varsity football team and Cheerleading Squad is this: if you make Coach Wyman go as our Acting Head Coach, then we all quit. The Varsity football team and the Cheerleading Squad. All of us. We quit. Coach Slater picked him to lead us until he gets back. We believe in Coach Slater and we believe in Coach Wyman. We're a team, and he's our Coach. OK, I'm done."
"You'd all quit?" The Superintendent asked, aghast.
"Yes, we will. Forgive me for putting it this way, but yes, we will, and I was speaking English." Kris Krieger responded matter-of-factly, returning to his seat amid gasps from the audience, and noticeable discomfort from the Board Members and Superintendent.
After that, other people were heard from also uniformly behind Sean continuing to run the team. At long last the Board President indicated that as their last public contributor they would hear again from Coach Slater.
Coach Slater had managed to stay through the entire meeting, and although tired, and ill, he wheeled his wheelchair to the podium, again planting his cane into the floor while semi-feebly standing.
"I'm not a well man... Yet..." Coach Slater began. "But I will be... You can bet on that. For almosht thirty yearzh I've coasched a lot of young men in this town. I've alwayzh done what I think izh right by the men I coasch. What I did wazh right when I appointed Coasch Wyman to take over for the time I'll be out. And it'sh shtill the right deschision. It wazh right for the team. You people on the Board can deschide whatever the hell you want. I don't have a vote, but I wouldn't schange a thing. You lishten to your playerzh and your scheerleaders and your other shtudentsh, and everybody elshe who came here tonight. I'm tired. I'm gonna go now, but know thish: I made the deschision I made and like I shaid I wouldn't schange it. And it was my deschision to make. You gave it to me."
At that moment, unnoticed, Charlie Ditmar entered the room, found Ginny in the front row, sat down behind her in a seat that Ginny had held open knowing he was due to show up, whispered something in her ear, and handed her a small sheaf of papers.
Ginny leafed through them quickly, skimming here and there, then stood up.
"Mister President, I've just been handed some information I'd like to share with the Board. With your permission, of course..."
"Is it pertinent" The President asked.
"Yes. I believe it is. Very much so," Ginny answered.
"Very well, but please make it brief."
Ginny strode to the podium, the sheafe of papers in her hand.
"If it pleases the Board, I found it odd that, out of the blue, the WIAA would do what they called in imprecise terms `open an investigation' into Sean Wyman's position as Acting Head Coach some weeks after he assumed the job. It seemed to me that if they had some specific objection to it that it would have been made known right away."
"Please," the Board President said, "get to your point..."
"Certainly. I was suspicious enough about the circumstances of the whole thing to engage the services of a Private Investigator in order to find out who was behind it. Just a moment ago, the Private Investigator handed me his findings. I scanned his conclusion before I asked to speak just now, and I can tell you that his conclusion is startling."
"Will you furnish the Board with a copy of the Investigator's report?" The Board President asked.
"I'd be delighted to furnish a copy to the School District's Attorney, and to do so now," Ginny replied.
"And what was the Investigator's conclusion?" The Board President asked.
END CHAPTER FORTY-NINE