REASON, COACH ABERNASTY AND 8 MAN FOOTBALL.

     Small towns have big hearts. At least that’s what Coach Abernathy has told Reason’s football teams for the last twenty-one years. People listen to Coach. After all, the town named the football field after him: Abernathy Field. Actually, the sign says “Abernasty Field.” The dedication was done in ’92, which was a sparse year for Reason’s coffers, and no one noticed the mistake until after the ceremony. So correcting it wasn’t a real priority, Coach agreeing it was the thought that counted.

     There was a move this year to fix the sign, but the Reason Bobcats have made the playoffs for thirteen straight years. When something goes that right, you hate to tamper with stuff. It would be easier, the superintendent joked with the school board, for the coach to change his name. The comment got a good laugh from everyone there.

     Coach Abernasty’s team plays eight-man football. Most die-hard fans agree that eight man is the toughest way to go. No wimpy, pampered quarterbacks on Reason’s team. Reason’s quarterbacks call the plays, run the ball, block their own tackles—even snap the ball to themselves if they have to.

     Reason fans are known to be a little over the top. But if city people faced the fierce competition little towns face, they would get excited, too. Take the game in 1988, for example.

It is hard to remember who Reason was playing, there being equal rivalry between most small towns. But the Bobcats were down by thirty-eight in the third. There is a mercy rule in eight man: after the half, when a team is down by 45, the game ends. Reason fans knew the rule.

     Coach Abernasty put Leon Jacobs in for Benny Walker, who was wobbly after being on the underside of a hard hit. Benny’s folks screamed so loud the other team couldn’t hear the call and the ref threw a flag for delay of game. The other team lost five yards.

     Reason’s fans were on their feet. If the game had been at home, they might have been on the field as well, but this was an away game and Reason fans are a wary group. The opponents easily outweighed Reason by ten pounds…on the field and in the stands. So the Reason fans just stood and yelled.

     During the melee, the home team sneaked downfield and scored a touchdown. Their fans went wild. The game was over. There was nothing for the Bobcats to do but get on the bus…something the other team’s cheer squad had been chanting for them to do for about fifteen minutes.

      The team went down in defeat, but they did it gracefully. The Reason fans did not. Ralph Walker, whose son Benny had been prevented from scoring the game-saving points for Reason by the unfortunate sneak play, chased one of the referees across the parking lot to his red Toyota. Ralph accused the ref of being partial to the home team. He asked the official if he knew anything about football or if he was only filling in for the real referee. 

     Just before the man got out of his red car and laid Ralph out on the cement, Matt Jacobs reached the parking lot. He saw Ralph hit the ground. Matt also spotted the red-and-blues of the police car as it skidded around the corner. He pulled Ralph up and the two of them disappeared between rows of parked cars.

     Reason fans are loyal. The team had played its heart out. They’d lost, but it was all because of that trick play. There was not a doubt in the bunch that, if the refs had been impartial, Reason would have made up those points and won.

     In Reason, as in many small towns, when the kids come home from a game, they are heroes. No matter what time it is…day or night…every vehicle in town that has a siren meets the bus-and-fans convoy. They snake through town on their way back to the high school so everyone knows the team has returned. That game, it was no different. The ambulance led the bus. Fire trucks and the town’s two police cars spaced themselves between the cars of fans eager to get home to their beds. Cranky from lack of sleep and food because it was too late to stop for snacks after they bailed Ralph and Matt out of jail. Cranky, but loyal.

     When the team got out of the bus, most of the fans circled around them and cheered. Ralph did not. He was in a snit. Ralph even kicked at the mutt who came at him to get a patting. The dog tore a hole in Ralph’s ankle. Ralph has had a limp since that night…a limp which he refers to as his football injury.

     Big city fans miss out on the excitement of being so personally involved with the team. It is hard for them to see past the 4A and 5A divisions. Once, a news copter came to cover a Reason game. At least, they came to get a shot or two of the teams for the 10:20 pm sportscast. The aircraft sat down on the field at half time and the band had to forego their marching presentation. But no one seemed to mind. The cameras panned the crowd, as the teams were already back in the locker room.     Marvin Louis, who has always been two bricks shy of a load, streaked the field with nothing on but his briefs and his NAPA baseball cap. The cameraman followed him all the way to the concession booth, where Chief Simmons and a couple other men scooped Marv up.

     Reason TV’s were all tuned to the news that night, but the streaking didn’t make the cut. There was a close-up of the Abernasty Field sign and a shot or two of the vacant goal post. The sportscaster assured viewers that it was a close game. The fans were a great bunch. Still, it would add a lot to the atmosphere, the sportscaster said, if they could manage to get together some kind of band to play at half-time.

     The band responded by sending a tape of their performance at the next game. An impressive marching pattern where they braided together and came out in a single line in front of the stands. Then the flag team paraded through with a sign that said REASON LOVES COACH ABERNATHY. The band director apologized to the coach for the mistake in spelling his name.