* * *
Leave it to Rake to have the final word. Leave it to Rake to manipulate his players one last time.
Neely certainly couldn't say anything bad about his Coach, not at this moment. From the grave, Rake had apologized. Now he wantedNeely to stand before the town, accept the apology, then add a few warm words of his own.
His first reaction, upon receiving the note from Miss Lila that a eulogy was requested, was to curse and ask, "Why me?" Of all the players Rake coached, dozens were certainly closer to him thanNeely . Paul suspected it was Rake's way of making a final peace withNeely and the '87 team.
Whatever the reason, there was no proper way to decline a eulogy. Paul said it simply could not be done. Neely said he'd never done one before, had never spoken in front of a large group, or a small one either, for that matter, and, furthermore, was considering an escape in the middle of the night to avoid the entire matter.
As he walked slowly among the players, his feet were heavy, his left knee aching more than usual. Without a limp, he stepped onto the small platform and situated himself behind the podium. Then he looked at the crowd, all staring down at him, and he almost fainted. Between the twenty-yard lines—sixty yards total—and up fifty rows, the home side of Rake Field was nothing but a wall of faces peering down to admire an old hero.
Without a fight, he succumbed completely to fear. He'd been afraid and nervous all morning, now he was terrified. Slowly, he unfolded a sheet of paper and took his time trying to read the words he'd written and rewritten. Ignore the crowd, he told himself. You cannot embarrass yourself. These people remember a great quarterback, not a coward whose voice is cracking.
"I'm Neely Crenshaw," he managed to say with some certainty. He found a spot on the chain-link fence along the track, directly in front of him, just over the heads of the players and just under the first row of the bleachers. He would direct his comments to that part of the fence and ignore everything else. Hearing his voice over the public address calmed him a little. "And I played for Coach Rake from '84 to '87."
He looked at his notes again and remembered a lecture from Rake. Fear is inevitable, and it is not always bad. Harness your fear and use it to your advantage. Of course, to Rake that meant sprinting from the locker room onto the field and trying to cripple the first opposing player in sight. Hardly good advice when eloquent words were needed.
Staring at the fence again,Neely shrugged and tried to smile and said, "Look, I'm not a judge and I'm not a minister, and I'm not accustomed to speaking before groups. Please be patient with me."
The adoring crowd would allow him anything.
Fumbling with his notes, he began to read. "The last time I saw Coach Rake was in 1989. I was in the hospital, a few days after surgery, and he sneaked into my room late one night. A nurse came in and told him he would have to leave. Visiting hours were over. He explained, very clearly, that he would leave when he got ready, and not one minute before. She left in a huff."
Neely glanced up and looked at the players.Lots of smiles. His voice was solid, no cracks. He was surviving.
"I had not spoken to Coach Rake since the '87 championship game. Now, I guess everybody knows why. What happened then was a secret that we all buried. We didn't forget it, because that would've been impossible. So we just kept it to ourselves. That night in the hospital I looked up and there was Coach Rake, standing beside my bed, wanting to talk. After a few awkward moments we began to gossip. He pulled a chair close and we talked for a long time. We talked as we had never talked before.Old games, old players, lots of memories of Messina football. We had a few laughs. He wanted to know about my injury. When I told him the doctors were almost certain that I would never play again, his eyes watered and he couldn't speak for a long time. A promising career was suddenly over, and Rake asked me what I planned to do. I was nineteen years old. I had no idea. He made me promise that I would finish college, a promise that I failed to keep. He finally got around to the championship game, and he apologized for his actions. He made me promise that I would forgive him, another promise I failed to keep.Until now."