Date: September 28, 1990 (Friday).
Location: Dallas (Departure) / Odessa (Arrival).
Event: The Business Trip.
Part 1: The Cold Open (Dallas Carter Recap)
If Jesuit was a wake-up call, Dallas Carter was a street fight.
We played them on a humid Saturday night at the Cotton Bowl. Carter didn't have the Mojo hype of Permian, but they had athletes that defied physics.
Specifically, they had a cornerback named Clifton Abraham.
In the second quarter, I tried to test him. I saw Jimmy Smith with a step on the sideline. I threw a perfect fade.
Abraham didn't just catch up; he teleported. He batted the ball away and wagged a finger in Jimmy's face.
"Not today, Sophomore!" Abraham yelled.
We won the game 24-21, largely because Larry Allen decided to play offense and defense in the 4th quarter, physically moving the Carter defensive line against their will.
But we left that game battered.
My ribs were yellow and purple.
Derek (our Senior Center) was limping.
Zach Thomas had a cut over his eye that required four stitches.
We were 3-0. But we looked like we had gone 12 rounds with Tyson.
***
Part 2: Deployment
Friday Morning. 8:00 AM. Love Field Airport.
The team gathered on the tarmac. This wasn't a school bus trip. The Boosters had chartered a Boeing 737.
It felt less like a football game and more like a military deployment.
"Listen up!" George Sr. shouted over the whine of the jet engines. "We are flying into Midland-Odessa. It is a business trip. No headphones on the tarmac. Shirts tucked in. We represent Highland Park."
The Seniors (Derek, Brad) were wearing sunglasses, acting cool. They thought the plane was a luxury.
I knew better. The plane was a necessity because Odessa was 350 miles of nothing away.
I sat in row 12 with Eric van der Woodsen.
Eric was busy. He had a clipboard and was checking inventory boxes stored in the overhead bins.
"We have the water," Eric whispered. "Imported sealed bottles. Do not drink the tap water in the hotel, Georgie. I read that Permian fans sometimes mess with the pipes in visiting hotels."
"You think they'd poison us?" I asked.
"I think they'd give us diarrhea," Eric corrected. "Which, strategically, is worse. I also packed our own bread and peanut butter. We are not eating the hotel buffet."
I looked across the aisle.
Sheldon was sitting next to Larry Allen.
Sheldon was wearing noise-canceling headphones (huge, clunky 1990 ones) and reading a book on Aerodynamic Drag in High-Altitude Environments.
Larry was eating a sandwich Eric had provided, staring straight ahead.
"Hey Larry," I said. "You ready for the flight?"
"I don't like planes," Larry rumbled. "If it falls, I can't block the ground."
"It won't fall," Sheldon said loudly. "Although the statistical probability of mechanical failure increases with..."
"Sheldon," I warned. "Silence."
"Copy that," Sheldon said.
***
Part 3: The Badlands
We landed in Midland at 10:30 AM.
The door opened, and the smell hit us.
It didn't smell like Dallas. Dallas smelled like exhaust and cedar.
West Texas smelled of sulfur, crude oil, and dust.
We boarded the buses. The landscape was alien. No trees. Just flat, brown earth stretching to the horizon, punctuated by the rhythmic nodding of oil pumps. Chug. Chug. Chug.
It was a rhythm that said: We work harder than you.
"Look at the signs," Zach Thomas said from the seat behind me.
I looked out the window.
Every billboard, every fence post, every gas station had a sign.
GO MOJO.
PERMIAN PANTHERS: STATE CHAMPS.
MOJO MAGIC.
Even the sheer number of them was oppressive. It wasn't just a school; it was a religion.
We pulled up to the Holiday Inn.
The marquee didn't say "Welcome Highland Park."
It said: MOJO 42, SCOTS 0.
"Friendly," I muttered.
We walked into the lobby. The staff stared at us. They didn't smile.
A bellboy bumped into Derek.
"Watch it," Derek snapped.
"Watch your back tonight, rich boy," the bellboy muttered.
George Sr. stepped in immediately.
"Eyes front!" he barked. "Get your keys. Go to your rooms. Do not engage the locals."
I watched my dad. His face was red. He was sweating. The Health Conspiracy had lowered his blood pressure in Dallas, but Odessa was a pressure cooker.
"Eric," I signaled.
Eric nodded. He reached into his bag and pulled out a Special Vitamin Water (water with a mild crushed beta-blocker Sheldon had calculated the dosage for).
"Coach!" Eric called out cheerily. "Hydration check!"
He handed the bottle to Dad.
George Sr. took it without thinking and downed half of it.
"Thanks, Eric," George huffed. "This heat is something else."
"Got your back, Coach," Eric winked at me.
Crisis managed. For now.
***
Part 4: The Golden Boy
We had a walkthrough at a local park (we weren't allowed in the stadium until game time).
As we were finishing up, a black pickup truck pulled up.
Two guys got out. They were wearing black and white letterman jackets.
I recognized them instantly. I had studied the scouting report.
The Quarterback: Stoney Case.
The Wide Receiver: Lloyd Hill.
Stoney Case looked like he was built in a lab to play quarterback. Tall, jawline you could cut steak on, confident walk. He was the Texas 5A Player of the Year favorite. He was going to the NFL; everyone knew it.
Lloyd Hill was smaller, but he moved with a twitchy energy that screamed speed.
They walked to the fence. They didn't yell insults. They just watched us.
It was a power move. We are watching you practice, and we aren't scared.
"Hey!" Derek yelled. "Get lost! Practice is closed!"
Stoney Case just smiled. A slow, lazy smile.
"Just looking at the fresh meat," Stoney called out. His voice was calm, deep. "You the Sophomore?"
He was looking at me.
I walked over to the fence.
"I'm the Quarterback," I said.
"Stoney Case," he said, not offering a hand. "Heard you won a ring in 3A. That's cute. My little brother plays 3A."
"Football is football, Stoney," I said.
"Not here," Stoney said. He pointed at the horizon where the massive lights of Ratliff Stadium were already visible, unlit towers against the sky. "You think you're good because you beat Jesuit? Jesuit is a choir. Tonight? You're gonna find out what real speed looks like."
Lloyd Hill laughed. "I hope your safety has insurance, man. I'm gonna run right by him."
"We'll see," I said.
Stoney tapped the fence twice.
"Good luck, Scot," he said. "Try not to cry on TV."
They got back in the truck and drove off, dust billowing behind them.
I turned back to the team.
The Seniors (Derek and Brad) looked rattled. Stoney Case had an aura. He was the Alpha, and they knew it.
But Larry Allen?
Larry was looking at the truck with a blank expression.
"That truck has a bad muffler," Larry noted.
"And the driver has a big mouth," Zach Thomas added, spitting on the grass.
I smiled.
The Seniors were scared. The Recruits were annoyed.
We had a chance.
***
Part 5: The Calm
5:00 PM. Hotel Room.
I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
My roommate was Sheldon (Eric had bribed the front desk to give him a single so he could organize the food).
Sheldon was testing a portable radio.
"The frequency of the crowd noise at Ratliff Stadium has been measured at 110 decibels," Sheldon informed me. "That is equivalent to a jet taking off. I have prepared earplugs."
"You going to the game?" I asked.
"I am the Statistician," Sheldon said, adjusting his bowtie. "I must collect data. Also, Larry said he would protect me from the Mojo People."
"He will," I said.
The phone rang.
I picked it up. "Cooper."
"Hey."
Serena's voice. Clear. Calm. It cut through the static of the West Texas air.
"Hey," I exhaled, feeling my shoulders drop an inch. "You called the hotel?"
"I have my ways," she said. "How is it? Is it like Mars?"
"Worse," I said. "Mars has better hospitality. Stoney Case stopped by practice to trash talk."
"Stoney Case?" she asked. "The one on the cover of Texas Football Magazine?"
"That's the one."
"He's pretty," Serena noted.
"Hey," I warned.
"But he has weak eyes," she added. "I saw his interview. He blinks too much when he's asked hard questions. He's arrogant, Georgie. Arrogant people make mistakes."
I smiled. "You've been studying film?"
"I'm dating the Quarterback," she said. "It's part of the job description. Listen to me. You aren't playing Stoney Case. You're playing the game. Don't let the noise get to you. It's just noise."
"Just noise," I repeated.
"Go win," she said. "I'll be waiting."
Click.
I hung up.
I stood up. I looked in the mirror.
I was 15 years old. I was in Odessa, Texas. I was about to play the best team in the state.
And I was ready.
"Sheldon," I said. "Let's go."
"Where?"
"To the bus," I said. "It's time to kill the Mojo."
[Quest Update: Into the Badlands]
* Arrival: Survived.
* Health Conspiracy: Active (George Sr. Stabilized).
* Enemy Intel: Stoney Case & Lloyd Hill identified.
* Morale: Seniors (Low), Recruits (High).
[System Notification: 2 Hours to Kickoff.]
***
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