Randy Fong lacks any experience when it comes to organized football. When the athletic director calls on him to coach the team however, Randy accepts the challenge. Willing to sell his soul to help the team look respectable, Randy Fong finds his wish might just be granted. With football stars of earlier days show up ready to play, what price will Randy pay to win this winter fueled football game?
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First published in Phantasm, ed. J.F. Gonzalez, Vol. 1, No. 3, Whole No. 3, Spring 1996.
A large, hulking shape walked forward out of the snowy shadows. He wore a dirty brown jersey with no shoulder pads and very baggy, padded old pants. In one hand, he held a brown leather helmet. With a chill that began inside his leather coat this time, Randy recognized the brooding frown of Harry Coover, the brawling drunk, from the old photo Don had shown him.
Coover stopped and stared at him. Randy stared back, unbelieving, but unable not to believe. Coover's face was grim, yet held a hint of hope. He was nearly pleading, but too guilty and discouraged to do that. Slowly, Randy inclined his head toward the field. Coover slipped on his helmet and trotted toward the vague shapes on the line of scrimmage.
A smaller figure had walked up from the darkness behind Coover and stopped. He also had a leather helmet, but he wore small shoulder pads. A shock of light brown hair showed from under the front of his helmet. It was halfback Teddy "T.D." Danzig, the point-shaver. It wouldn't matter here; nobody was betting. Like Coover, his expression was tentative, hopeful, but not begging.
Randy saw a sense of urgency in his eyes. He nodded once and Danzig, too, trotted onto the field.