Bulldogs at Vikings

Serendipity is the word that best described that game. We were the underdogs by twenty points; the Orange County Vikings were the best team in our league. They were undefeated, until we met them in Irvine.

Our team was the So Cal Bulldogs (most other teams called us the “Bullshits”). We were going into that game with a 2 and 7 record, ready to close out the season with another shitty game against the number one offense and number two defense. We were all part of the LaBelle Community Football League, a developmental league intended to give chances to talented players unable to attend the “Football Factory” colleges. Instead, it attracted a flurry of thugs, gangsters, drug addicts, and players with emotional problems. That season we had a fight after every game (some between opposing teams and ours, some between our own players). But this game we had a fight during the game.

I had played with the team the previous year as a back up lineman. I was ready to play but the coaches thought I needed more development. But for this season they begged me to play. The OC called me during the preseason and said they do not have enough linemen for a consistent front. Apparently, they had too many skilled players, they were using the extra full backs to fill in gaps. I came back and brought my friend Chris. We were both over six and a half feet tall, around three hundred pounds. The coaches placed us both on the left side of the line, the blind side.

The game started terribly. Our kicker wanted to do an onside kick, since their special teams were mediocre. The head coach, Mike, said no. He was an alcoholic who lived with his parents at age forty-two. We kicked off, they fielded it, and took it all the way for a touchdown. Coach Mike threw his clipboard on the ground.

Our offense took the field. Our o-line was me, Chris, our center Justin, and a linebacker and power back on the right. In the huddle the linebacker (I forget his name) and the power back (Mario) started arguing about something stupid (I think it was about spat). They started pushing each other. Chris and I separated them. We got the play off, a run up the middle. The running back fumbled, the Vikings recovered. We jogged off the field. I told the offensive coordinator to separate Mario and the other guy. After a three-and-out they kicked a thirty-six-yard field goal to make it ten to nothing after three minutes of play.

Half time saw us down thirteen to zero. We were all irritated. Coach Mike gave us one of his patented speeches, in which he borrowed some lines from several football movies. But he closed it with something that woke us up. We were playing the number one team, favored by twenty points. But their number one offense has not scored a touchdown on us. We were only down two possessions. There was hope for us.

We started the second half with a good looking drive stopped short of field-goal range. We punted and managed a touchback. They had the ball at the twenty-five-yard line (before the rule change). They started their drive: a short pass here, a solid run there, making their way all the way to the goal line, where they faced a fourth and goal play. They could have kicked it to make it sixteen to nothing, but I guess their coaches felt confident. They lined up for a run. We called a time out.

Coach Mike had his jumbo package go onto the field. The jumbo package included two very large men as defensive tackles (both fat men were good for only a few plays a game). They stuffed the run, turning the ball over on the one-yard line. Our offense took the field, not going very far. We punted, hoping our defense could do better. They did.

We had a very talented cornerback named Jo Jo. I had seen him do some amazing things from the sideline. That night he did something phenomenal. The play was trips right (three receivers lined up on the right). Jo Jo played the receiver on the left. They snapped the ball, QB pump faked to the right, Jo Jo read the play. The QB threw to the left, Jo Jo stepped in front of his man and picked off the pass. Our bench erupted with applause. Jo Jo spin moved, avoided tackles, juked, and made his way all the way to the end zone. It was then thirteen to seven (after we made the extra point).

The league’s number one offense was angry. They methodically drove down the field and scored their first touchdown of the game. Coach Mike scolded the defense as our special teams took the field. It was an uneventful return, gaining minimal yardage.

We ran the ball twice (no gain) and lined up for a pass. Our QB called “Hike.” The receivers battled up field as he threw a deep pass to Jason, a wide out who smoked cigarettes between quarters. The CB was all over him, drawing a pass interference penalty. The crowd jeered as our bench whooped.

We were down to the fifteen-yard line. Our QB looked to the sideline for the play. It was a flea-flicker. We lined up, he handed it off, the running back fluidly tossed the ball back to the QB who tossed it to Jason for a touchdown. The whole offense tackled Jason in celebration. Twenty to fourteen.

The game was winding down. Our defense kept them from scoring. Offense took the field with less than four minutes left, down by six. This was when our serendipitous opportunity arrived.

It was first down. The play was a simple pass with four receivers and a full back helping to block. Mario had been benched, along with the linebacker he had the altercation with. For whatever reason they chose this moment to have an MMA match on the sideline. The Vikings defense lined up as we were ready to snap the ball. Suddenly, they all looked at the fight, with a few exclamations expressed. I looked at the quarterback. “Run the play!”

“Hike!” Justin snapped it. Jason ran up field, covered by the same cornerback that gave us great position with the PI penalty. He would not make the same mistake twice. Their defense was caught off guard for just a split second. But that was good enough for Jason. The ball was coming right to him, the CB was careful not to foul him. Jason looked back, as did the defender. He caught the ball, struggled to separate, and the cornerback tripped, allowing Jason to score. We were ecstatic. “Fuck YEAH!!!”

It was twenty-one to twenty. This was the only time during the whole season that the OC Vikings were behind. We relished the moment until we realized that there was over three minutes left for the highest scoring offense to work with.

Coach Mike (who was also the defensive coordinator) pulled me aside. “I need you to play a little defense.” I could smell the Irish Whiskey on his breath. “I need you to go out there and get angry. I need you to help us win this one.” The linebacker that Mario had body-slammed was out, and now I needed to cover for him.

I had never played a defensive snap in my semi-professional career. I had played pick-up games at the park without pads, involving a different technique. I ran onto the field and approached the line like a strong safety.

They quarterback saw me and called an audible. The runner came right at me. Being a tall person has its benefits, and its faults. Since I was standing it was an easy block for the offensive guard. They gained twelve yards.

Nick, one of the d-linemen, said “Hey 'Urlacher', get in the four-point stance.” I got down in the proper stance. “I guess we’re a four-three defense now.” The linebackers and linemen chuckled. The next play was a play-action pass to the tight end that fooled our defensive backs. They gained fifteen.

They worked their way downfield. Time was their enemy. For an offense that was used to winning this was a tough situation. Eventually, they got to within the thirty-yard line and let the clock tick down to one second. They called time-out, their special teams came out.

I stayed in. I had practiced with the kicking team but was unsure of myself. I took a deep breath. I got into the four-point stance. I looked to my right where Nick was (he looked tired).

The long-snapper hiked it back to the punter, who held it for the placekicker. I heard Nick grunt as he broke through their line, right up the middle. The ball made a loud thump as it was kicked right into his chest. The Bulldogs exploded. Our whole team charged the field. We had won!

The Vikings were stunned. The game meant nothing to them, but it meant everything to us. It was all thanks to serendipity, and a fight.