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Chapter 4: Ring My Bell
 By Jim Caple |
Previously at 24 College Avenue: Jenn Robbins, the State College Red Devil mascot, adds a “Bubby-Mobile” to her sideline routine at football games but accidentally crashes into Golden State quarterback Simeon Hearst during a game. . . .
Physically, there was little difference between the Kenan Hill who ran onto the field at the State College-City College football game and the Kenan Hill who had struggled on the same field in his first collegiate start two years earlier. Yet there was something decidedly different between the two. It was more than the few pounds of muscle he had added. It was in the way he carried himself, in his confidence and his play. In just two years, Kenan had grown from an unsure and nervous sophomore to a sure consensus All-America and likely first-round draft pick. He had been photographed and featured in national magazines and highlights of his tackles ran on TV after each week’s game.
He had become the literal Big Man on Campus at State College and fans bought his replica No. 58 jersey by the thousands. As a matter of convenient university policy, however, his name was not printed across the back of the jersey so that the athletic department could claim it owed no merchandising fees to him or any of the other players whose numbered jerseys sold for $59.95. “This isn’t Kenan Hill’s jersey,’’ athletic director Hudson Bay insisted when a writer for the State College paper pressed him on the subject for a column about the exploitation of student-athletes. “It’s just a generic No. 58. We have two walk-ons who wear the number. If fans want to consider it to be a specific player’s jersey, well, we can’t help that. But as far as we’re concerned, it’s just a number.’’
Kenan and his teammates joked about how this meant the school officially considered them nothing more than numbers, but it was Blaine Reardan who really drove home the point. “They’re exploiting you, Kenan,’’ Reardan told him. “They’re exploiting all you guys. Why should they get all the money? Do you think they would be selling any No. 58 jerseys if you didn’t wear it? Or any of the other replica jerseys they sell? Why can the school and Athena athletics make money off this but you can’t?’’
Reardan, of course, was an agent, though the lawyer preferred to be called an “advisor’’ when it came to his relationship with Kenan. He had played football in college and had been counting on earning a comfortable living as a professional. But he tore his MCL on an end run the second year of his senior season – more than 25 years later, he still relived the painful play whenever the knee gave slightly on him -- and never regained the speed necessary to get drafted. He had been invited to attend one training camp and shared a sparse dorm room with a lineman with bad gas for three weeks before getting cut. The experience inspired him to law school and become an agent, dedicating his career to making sure that other athletes got a fair shake.
“You’re looking at a multiple-million dollar contract when you’re drafted,’’ Reardan told Kenan when they met over the summer. “But what if you get hurt this season? An injury could cost you your career. The university will go right on making money off football but you won’t. How could that be right?’’
Although the American University Sports Conglomerate specifically banned college players from hiring agents, Reardan offered to “advise’’ Kenan during his senior season in exchange for representing him when he was drafted. He also helped him set up an insurance policy to protect Kenan in case an injury in his final year prevented him from playing professionally.
Initially, Kenan was a little unsure of the arrangement, not wanting to do anything that the AUSC would consider a violation. But Reardan assured him that as long as there was no formal agent agreement between the two, his “advice’’ was technically within the rules. He assured him that dozens of the best players all over the country had this same sort of arrangement as well. “You have to look after yourself,’’ Reardan said. “Because no one else will. Certainly not the people who are selling your jersey by the thousands while denying that it’s your jersey, that it’s just a number.’’
Reardan eventually persuaded Kenan with his arguments and the player was relieved he had an insurance policy after he saw what happened to Golden State quarterback Simeon Hearst when Jenn Robbins had hit him with the Bubby-Mobile. Insurance, he decided then, wasn’t such a bad idea.
Still, he refused to accept Reardan’s offers to advance him money against his eventual football contract. Protecting his future with an insurance policy was one thing, Kenan thought. That was a necessity. But there was no need to buy an expensive car or gaudy jewelry. SUVs and bling could wait. Better to keep things simple. Better to keep himself motivated and hungry. Better to be a Spartan. So he moved back to 24 College Avenue, returned to his old cramped room in the basement and dedicated himself to his season and to his studies. It was like when Rocky goes to train in Siberia, almost literally so given how cold the basement got in the winter. Kenan’s goal was to finish up the last credits he needed for his degree after winter term and graduate before the draft, thereby satisfying both his father and his mother.
But after cracking his helmet against a City College player’s while diving for a loose ball, Kenan wasn’t thinking about any of this. Not Reardan, not 24 College, not a professional career, not any of it.
All he was thinking about was how he had gotten from the field to the sideline and why the team trainer was examining him.
# # #
Having played football competitively since junior high, Kenan had been hit in the head many times but this was a new experience. He felt as if he was in a dream just before waking, that foggy time when clear thoughts are just beyond reach. He was aware of what was happening and yet it didn’t seem to be happening to him.
“Are you all right, Kenan?’’ trainer Jody Wixon said, inspecting his eyes and feeling his head for any bumps. “Do you know where you are?’’
“Red Devils Stadium,’’ Kenan replied, though it was more of a question than a statement.
“Do you know what quarter this is?’’
Of course, he did. It was. . . Hmmm . . . that was funny. He couldn’t quite remember. He was pretty sure it wasn’t the first quarter; it seemed later than that, but he wasn’t sure. He took a stab. “The fourth quarter?’’
Wixon nodded. “I think you just got your bell rung there when you knocked heads diving for that fumble. You’ll be fine. Just sit down on the bench for this drive until the cobwebs disappear.’’
Kenan did as he was told and closed his eyes for a moment to relax his body. He tried to jar the fog from his mind with a series of simple memory tests. He knew it was October but was embarrassed to admit he wasn’t quite sure which week. He thought back on the schedule, as best he could remember it. The Red Devils had already played Golden State, beating them handily to vault into the top 10. Then there was the near loss to An Ohio State University and the week they didn’t play when so many top teams got upset and State College moved up to No. 4. So that meant it was late October and the Devils were playing . . . City College. Yeah, City College.
It was all coming back now. Not in a rush but in a steady drip of memory. He recalled running onto the field before the game, the band playing during warmups, the first defensive series, City College’s 60-yard touchdown pass, State’s ensuing touchdown . . . he recalled it all.
Except for the actual play he was hurt. He didn’t remember hitting his helmet against someone else. He didn’t remember the moment he was about to hit his head. He didn’t even remember any fumble. All he remembered was rushing onto the field to begin the series with State College leading -- what was the score again, 24-13?-- and then being helped off the field.
“How you doing there Kenan?’’ the linebackers coach asked. “Ready to get back in there?’’
Get back in there? Was the Devils offensive drive over already? It hardly seemed as if any time had passed. The Devils must have gone three and out.
“I’m OK, I think,’’ he said tentatively. His head didn’t hurt exactly but everything still seemed a little unreal.
“Good,’’ the coach said. “Then get back out there. We need you. We need to stop City on this series.’’
Stop City? Kenan looked up at the scoreboard. He saw that the Red Devils led City 24-20. Twenty-four to 20? When had City scored that last touchdown? He didn’t remember it at all. And how could there only be two minutes left in the game? Still, he felt fine physically, just a slight headache, so he pulled on his helmet and ran onto the field.
He was still a little fuzzy when he got into the huddle but when they lined up for the play and the ball was snapped, his instincts took over. He felt just a little slow though, just a little off. It felt as if the play was swirling all around him.
There was less than a minute left when City College faced a fourth and eleven from the State College 42. City quarterback Grants Pass dropped back to pass but couldn’t find an open receiver. He scrambled to his left, scanned the field again for a receiver, then tucked the ball under his arm and ran upfield. He was four yards from a first down when he found his path cut off by two State College defenders, so he cut back quickly to his left.
And ran smack into Kenan, who was as surprised as Pass to be smack in the middle of the play. Both toppled over, with the quarterback falling to the ground a yard short of the first down and Kenan falling backward, his head striking the turf hard.
When Kenan opened his eyes, he saw fellow linebacker Roy Mansfield reaching his hand down toward him. Kenan had the vague awareness he might have blacked out for a second but Mansfield seemed unconcerned.
“Nice hit, my man,’’ Mansfield said, pulling his teammate to his feet as the rest of the defense swarmed Kenan.
They ran off the field and the offense took over. Quarterback Gig Harbor took a knee on the first snap and ran out the clock. The fans celebrated as the fans took the field and Kenan’s teammates congratulated him again on his saving tackle.
Kenan was feeling pretty good by the time he showered. His head ached a little bit but it was nothing that a couple pills of ibuprofen wouldn’t solve. It was after he dressed and walked out of the locker room that he ran into a problem.
He couldn’t remember how to get back home.
Next: Halloween
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