Team Manager COACH!
Chapter 9
DENNIS AND HIS ANGELINES went en masse to the football game Friday night. As they found their way into the bleachers, others seemed to collect around their little cheering section. The first to join them were the five Team B cheerleaders who led cheers at the volleyball games—Rae, Sharon, Doc, Donna, and Rebecca.
“You guys are great!” Lana said. “I know we didn’t have many fans at the game last night, but you kept them with us the whole way. The team appreciates it!”
“You’re so sweet, Lana,” Donna said. “It helps to have a team that appreciates us.”
The rest of the volleyball team joined them. Liz sat beside Karen and Daphne. She was showing improvement in her running already and had placed sixth on the team Monday. Seeing their teammates, many more of the cross country team joined them, led by Janice. And determined not to be left out of the group, most of the boys’ cross country team joined the girls. When they were all assembled, it appeared that nearly all the people who had participated in Dennis’s evening conditioning sessions were seated together as a cheering bloc for the football game.
“And tonight, taking the field for the first time, the Bartley Wolverines welcome you to the inauguration of our new AgCentral Football Stadium!” the announcer said over the recently revamped speaker system. Dennis was unexpectedly proud of the freshly mown field with the five-yard stripes mowed in opposite directions to enhance the look of the field. He’d come out Wednesday afternoon to go over the equipment with Bart Matthews, who had been given the job of mowing. Bart mowed the baseball diamond for practice and had been out to mow the football field before school Friday morning.
Everything about the school looked pristine and ready to welcome the Spartans and their fans. They all cheered at the announcement. After the National Anthem, the field lights were turned on, even though it wasn’t dark yet. The captains met at mid-field and the Spartans won the toss, deferring their option to the second half. Bartley chose to receive. Teams took the field, new uniforms crisply ironed and clean. The kick was up and the clock started running on Bartley’s first loss of the season.
Losing a game had never dulled the Bartley fans’ enthusiasm for their team. They had trained many years as fans of the varsity basketball team facing a losing season. But in all fairness, the Wolverines made a good showing in their first game, the Spartans scored early in the game, but the Wolverines came back, scoring twice before allowing the Spartans two more touchdowns in the fourth quarter. The final score was 14-20. No one was particularly disappointed and the school used the opportunity to hold a first dance of the school year in the multi-purpose room after the game.
The crew went to the dance and mostly danced as a group to the recorded music. The other athletes who had joined the Angelines at the game stuck around them and the guys were welcomed as well as the girls, even though they were outnumbered three to one.
Until the football team made its appearance. Some of the guys obviously had dates or girlfriends waiting for them. Others were on the prowl, while the majority just sat it out, drinking water and soft drinks. Most of those on the prowl were respectful when the girls in the group turned them down for a dance or thanked them after a dance to return to their group. Occasionally, a guy was too clueless to get the message that his attentions weren’t appreciated. Dennis was ready to ‘have a talk’ with one persistent guy who was pestering Tori, but Dave Overman from the cross country team stepped in front of him and escorted the pest away. Tori turned and took Dennis out for a nice slow dance.
“Are we ever going to get to make love again?” she sighed. “School takes up way too much time.”
“That’s the truth, isn’t it?” Dennis said. “I’m the luckiest guy in the world to have twelve girlfriends and yet I don’t have time to spend with any of them.”
“You won’t forget us, will you?”
“Not a chance, Tor. I confess that I’m having lustful thoughts about you right now.”
“Yeah. I can feel them poking at my stomach. Maybe we can slip away later.”
“Maybe.” The music ended and they were walking toward the tables when a hand stroked his arm.
“What’s a girl need to do to get a dance with the new guy?”
Dennis turned to see Jennifer Eckert next to him. She looked at him curiously. They’d been classmates since kindergarten. As a result, every class photo and every class seating chart showed them sitting next to each other. She wasn’t the top beauty in the class, but she was always the girl nearest to him and, therefore, subject of many of his fantasies as he saw her develop over the years. Hers was the first bra he noticed showing through a blouse.
“I’d love to have a dance with you, Jennifer,” he said. He winked at Tori and she let go of his arm to join the others.
“Wow! You even know my name.” She glanced over at the girls Tori joined. “Um… Not to be unkind, but I’d be careful of those girls. They’ve got a bit of a reputation.”
“Really? What do you mean?”
“Well, they’re like a cult or something. They all hang together and last year rumor had it that they all shared one boyfriend. Not that he could have been any use to them. He was really a weird little dork. I heard he got arrested last spring right before school got out because of that shooting,” she said. “I guess that was before you got here.”
“Uh… Jennifer, who has sat beside you in nearly every class since kindergarten?”
“Oh, Chris Davis,” she said. “You’d like her.”
“The other side.”
“That would be that dork I mentioned. I can’t believe every class picture I’ve got has him beside me.”
“Maybe I should introduce myself. I’m Dennis Enders.” She looked at him blankly. “As in Davis, Eckert, Enders. Alphabetical order for the past eleven years,” Dennis chuckled. She looked horrified and stood away from him a step.
“No. That can’t be. He had thick glasses and was, like, four inches shorter than me, and a… Tell me. You can’t be that dork, can you?” she stuttered.
“I know. Usually, the class dork doesn’t get revealed to be the catch of the class who got away until the ten-year class reunion or something.”
“But your eyes…”
“I had surgery.”
“And you’re, like, tall.”
“Growth spurt.”
“And… muscles.”
“Been working out.”
“I am so embarrassed.”
“Don’t be. I know what I was. Nobody really knew me until last year when I started managing the Angelines. Then they only knew me because of my girlfriends,” he said.
“They really are your girlfriends?”
“Yeah. It’s not a cult, though. You don’t need to worry. Want to join us?” Her eyes popped open wide. “I mean at the table. Not as a girlfriend or a member of a cult or anything like that.”
“Thank you, but I think I’d better go now. Bye!” Jennifer turned and basically fled across the room to where other members of the junior class were hanging out with several junior football players.
“You’re kidding! She didn’t even know who you were?” Leanne asked. The crew had all met up at the outdoor basketball court Saturday morning and were joined by Daphne, Karen, and Liz for a little practice. The school couldn’t start any kind of official basketball practice until November eighth and it wasn’t yet September. There was nothing against them meeting for a ‘pick-up’ game. Tori and Natalie had spent the night with Dennis and were both in a very good mood.
“I don’t think she was faking it,” Dennis said. “Would you believe people still think I was arrested last spring and the class dork is no longer in school?”
“It’s all a matter of the timing,” Roberta said. “It was the last day of school. There was nobody to set the record straight for people. And with your new eyes and this hunky body, nobody recognizes you for the person you were last year.”
Dennis looked down at himself. His response to Roberta was evident in his spandex shorts. He tried to will it down. Roberta didn’t help it at all when she started dribbling and backed up into him to rub against his protrusion. All the girls were in their sport shorts and bra tops. While the tight elasticity of the tops flattened the girls some, the shorts—like his—showed every subtle curve.
“Come on, you two,” Amy shouted. “No sex at school. Besides, I must be next, aren’t I?”
“Actually, I asked Debbie out tonight,” Dennis said.
“Aw, whatcha gonna do? Go parking?” Liz said.
“No. Dennis promised to take me to a nice movie,” Debbie said. “What’s the name of that drive-in, Dennis?”
“Oh, um… the Devil’s Playground, I think,” he laughed. They played hard for an hour or more when a voice broke through to get their attention.
“Are those your basketball uniforms?” a shrill woman demanded.
“No,” Tori said. “These are just our play clothes. It isn’t basketball season yet.”
“They’re indecent. Do your mothers know you are out here parading your bodies around like common whores? And with a boy! And his outfit is just as indecent as yours.”
“Girls wear this stuff all the time, Mrs… Uh… Whatever,” Daphne said.
“It’s sinful. You raise the lust of men and then complain when they notice you. You cause them to sin.”
“Ma’am, I can tell you for a fact that the only one who causes someone to sin is the person himself,” Dennis said. “Being female or being small or being weak or being careless doesn’t cause another person to rape or beat up or mug or murder. That’s all on the person who commits the crime.”
“You! You may be the devil himself to fill these innocent heads with such nonsense. I’ll file a complaint. I’ll get the authorities out here to take you all in for indecency. You wait and see! You are an abomination before God.” She backed away from the court toward the cemetery and fled to her car in the parking lot.
“Who was that?” Natalie asked.
“I know who it was,” Amy said. She’d stayed hidden behind the other girls during the confrontation. “That’s Harry Conway’s mother. My parents were friends of theirs when the boys were a gang instead of dead. She’s bonkers.”
“Great. I hope we don’t have to deal with that this fall,” Dennis muttered.
Dennis and Debbie had a very nice date that evening. They had a burger and shake at a local drive-in. That way Debbie could honestly tell people he’d taken her to a drive-in. It just wasn’t for the movie.
“You know, you don’t need to pretend to do stuff just to keep up with everyone else,” Dennis said as they sat in the car to eat.
“I know. It’s hard to figure out what my own pace is. I faked it for so long as a goth girl that it’s easier to fake things now than it is to be me. Especially since half the time I don’t even know who I am,” she said.
“I guess I understand that. You know, having Jennifer come up to me last night and not even know who I was… We’ve all been in school together for ten or eleven years. I don’t think she even remembered my name.”
“I’ve only been in school with you for seven years. We moved out to the farm when I was in third grade. Then Mom died when I was in fifth grade and I started to go dark. I really went overboard when Dad married Ruth. I started to mature and it was easier to make up a person who was wild and experienced and didn’t have time for the mere children in my class,” Debbie said.
“We don’t have to be that kind of girlfriend and boyfriend,” Dennis said. “I’m happy just to have you as my friend.”
“You’re so sweet. It’s no wonder all of us love you. I’ll bet that within a few days, even Jennifer will want to hang around you. You didn’t snap at her or ridicule her or try to get even with her for not noticing you. You just had a nice dance and talked to her. I’m sure she was all embarrassed, but I’ll bet she was turned on a little, too.”
“Maybe. I’m not looking for any more girlfriends, though. I just don’t feel like I have time for the ones I have.”
“Did you know that most of the kids our age don’t expect to go out more than once a month?” Debbie asked. “I read about this in a girls’ magazine. I’m not even going to say which one because it’s embarrassing that I read it. But according to a survey they took, most sixteen and seventeen-year-olds are just beginning to date and even those with ‘steady’ boyfriends or girlfriends don’t expect to go out more than once a month. That doesn’t include things like school events where they’re in a group. Or group dating like we all do together. It only applies to one-on-one dates. So, really all you need to do is have three dates a week and you’ll get around to all your girlfriends each month!”
“Wow! That makes it so much easier,” Dennis laughed. They put their trash on the tray and Dennis turned on the lights to wait for the carhop to pick it up.
“Thank you so much for a really nice date,” Debbie said. “Um… I know what I said about not being ready for anything, but this was, like, my first actual date with a boy. I wouldn’t mind kissing a little before I go in.”
“I’d like that a lot,” Dennis said.
They kissed and held each other over the console in the car for several minutes and then he walked around the car to open her door. She held his hand as they stepped up on the porch, which was immediately flooded with light.
“I’m glad we did most of our kissing in the car. Dad had motion sensor lights installed at the doors so he and Ruth could see to get from the garage to the house. He was so committed to his ideal of a country farm house that he insisted on a detached garage when he had this built. He’s regretted it ever since.”
They laughed but regardless of the light, they stopped for one more intense kiss at the door before she went in. It was a great night.
The teens were becoming regular church-goers on Sunday mornings. It got so they were expected to fill a couple of pews at the Trinity Lutheran Church, especially when Daphne, Liz, and Karen started pushing into the same pews with them.
This was a very special Sunday, though. Dennis had promised Peg that he and all her sisters would be in church to hear her sing. Mrs. Thompson, the church organist, pianist, and choir director, had worked with her on a solo for this morning’s service.
Peg was nervous, but stood next to the piano in her new pink dress and inch-high-heel sandals. Dennis could see her nearing panic at the crowd and was ready to jump up and reassure his sister. But Mrs. Thompson was masterful in her handling of his sister. She got Peg to focus just on her so they could sing together. She played the introduction to the piece. Peg was a little hesitant on joining in, but within a measure or two, she was singing her heart out, praising God with her voice.
Let all the world in every corner sing, My God and King!
The heavens are not too high, His praise may thither fly;
The earth is not too low, His praises there may grow.
As she finished the song, tears ran freely from Dennis’s eyes and he saw them reflected in the eyes of his girlfriends, mother, and others in the congregation.
“We are so blessed to have Margaret Enders in our church with us,” Pastor Donnelly said from the pulpit. “She brings joy wherever her voice is heard. Let us pray.”
Dennis lost track of whatever else was said in church that morning. He just dwelled on those words the preacher had uttered. ‘We are so blessed to have Margaret Enders.’
Tuesday, the volleyball team struck back with a home game victory, 3-0 over the Bulldogs. There were over a hundred Bartley fans at this match—almost as if the community had come awake after the football game Friday. The team was looking good and strong, but Daphne limped off the court before the final game of the match and was benched through the remainder with ice on her ankle. The cheerleaders led a rousing cheer for the freshman.
Dennis managed to scoot down to a seat behind Daphne and ask about her injury.
“I felt something pop,” Daphne said. “I think I sprained it. Damn it! I can’t be out for the season.”
“Have you been getting enough protein in your diet?” he asked.
“I only eat protein,” Daphne snorted. “Carbs and fat make you fat. I can’t afford to put on weight.”
“Wait, what? You could stand to put on some pounds,” Dennis said. “What do you weigh?”
“That’s kind of a rude question,” she said. “One-ten.”
“And you’re six-two? Daphne, you should weigh at least 130. That’s dangerous.”
“If I put on weight, I’ll get boobs and that will throw my balance all off. Mom would throw a fit.”
“As long as I’m on personal questions that are rude, when is your period due?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t had one since I went to summer camp in June. That’s like three months. They were never very regular.”
As soon as the game was over, Dennis got down to the floor and examined Daphne’s ankle. It was swelling in spite of the ice. He pulled an elastic bandage from his kit and wrapped her ankle securely.
“What’s this,” Pat asked as she came over to examine her daughter.
“Coach, I think it’s worse than a sprain,” Dennis said. “I think she’s got a stress fracture.”
“Sure, doctor. I’m confident that you can tell. Come on, Daphne. We should get you to the clinic and have an actual doctor take a look at it.” Daphne stood up and almost fell back down.
“Ow! It hurts!” Karen rushed to her friend’s side and supported her. For the first time, Pat actually looked concerned.
“You can’t put weight on it?” she asked.
“No, Mom. It’s hurting worse all the time.”
“Okay, we need to get you to the car. Dennis, you’re stronger than Karen. Can you carry Daphne to my car?” Pat demanded. Dennis was an aggravating know-all, but he was convenient muscle.
“Yes, ma’am.” He looked quickly around at those who were nearby. “Nat, can you give me a hand? It will be easier and more comfortable for Daphne if we do a seat carry.”
He quickly showed Natalie how to interlink their hands and Daphne sat back on the seat they created. She put her arms around their necks and they carried her out of the gym. Once Daphne was in the front seat of Pat’s car, she thanked the manager and turned to leave.
“Coach? I know I’m just a student trainer, but please ask the doctor about female athlete triad. Daphne shows all the signs as it is printed in my textbook. Please help her.”
“Dennis, Daphne is my daughter and I am a trained coach. I appreciate your help, but I think I can manage her healthcare.” She turned and opened her car door, then stopped to turn back to Dennis. Her brow was deeply furrowed. “Thank you for your help and concern. I’ll mention it to the doctor.”
With that, Pat started the car and drove off.
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