Legends in our own minds

This little story is on Juvie and I. We had just coached our team to victory. If the truth be known, our talented kids had been carrying us all season. The opponents had been crushed and somebody had to take credit. Big fish in a small pond, coaching in a league where most of the towns weren’t even on the map.

Juvie says,” let’s celebrate and go to Durango and get a pizza.”He always paid because I never had a dime on me. Always broke and quite happy to share his pizza, we got in his old yellow ford pickup and headed to Durango. We passed hay fields, pastures full of healthy cattle and once in a while a ranch house.

Then , we broke down. It was trouble with the lights or the motor or something. We looked under the hood and pretended we knew what we were looking for and didn’t find it anyway. As we closed the hood, a car went by, windows down, kids screaming and banging on the side of the car. Juvie thought it was members of the other team, but as car after car flew by, we recognized many of them as cars of our players.

Easily seen by our coaching jackets and the rocks both of us carried to fend off the ranch dogs, we walked on. Needless to say, none of the players or fans stopped.

Finally, with the lights of Durango still not in sight an old pickup did stop. The door flew open and the light of the cab came on and there sat Tiffany C., an attractive student of mine snuggled up to her boyfriend. A little side note, I had just kicked her out of class on the past Tuesday.

“Need a lift?”, she said smiling and seemingly not holding a grudge. We nodded and climbed up into the cab.

“Want a beer?”, as she reached a bottle out to me.

I said , “No thank you , but thanks for the offer.”

As we bounced down the road, I began to worry about our good luck. Sitting on my lap was this pretty 16 year old blond student of mine drinking a beer and her boyfriend, also underage, his driving showing signs of him being slightly under the weather. Should we be stopped, our coaching jackets would surely get the attention  they demanded particularly in the mugshots. And nary a dime for bail.

Oh hell, at least we would be famous…

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