A dream ends in Norcross

Bears fall 21-7 to Wesleyan

First for the logistics: Getting from Holy Innocents’ to Wesleyan at 4:45 on a Friday afternoon simply can’t be done. It’s a you-can’t-get-there-from-here waiting to happen. Head Coach Ryan Livezey and assistants Ron Green and Bill Railey check their I-phones, looking for the latest traffic reports.

“Traffic’s backed up to Riverside,” Railey says. Green just nods. Livezey leans forward to the bus driver – the same driver and same bus as last week for good luck – and gives the orders. “Let’s just go 285; we’ll get off at Peachtree-Industrial and try our luck that way.”

So off the Golden Bears go, 13-0 winners over Bowdon the week before, a team that has now advanced to the Sweet 16 two years in a row. It’s a quiet bus – a trip with the Golden Bears isn’t a trip to rah-rah land. There’s no yelling, no cheers, no singing – in fact some are actually asleep as the bus does its stop-and-go thing through tens of thousands of Atlantans eager to get into their weekend.

It’s cold outside – “so cold it hurts” one would say – so hand and foot warmers, hats and long johns are the order of the night. The equipment bus has apparently taken the short route – they went Roswell Road, hung a right at North Springs and then hit Spalding Drive all the way to the Promised Land.

The bus arrives at around 5:15 p.m.; it parks right in front of a sign which reads “Bears Hibernate – 11-21-2008. We hope not. Last year the Final 16 was our exit; this year’s team comes hoping for better things.

In the locker room:

Again, this isn’t your made-for-TV locker room. Knute Rockne doesn’t deliver the roundhouse speech in front of a bunch of screaming kids. No, it’s methodical times 12 as each coach grabs the chalk, writes on the board and delivers tonight’s mantra.

“They aren’t going to do anything unexpected,” Livezey says. “It’s going to be a matter of execution. It’s going to be a matter of who wants to continue playing football.” Avid faces lean forward, equipment half on, half off, some waiting to be taped, all hyped up on the inside in spite of the outward appearances.

Trainer Lindsey Law tapes quietly in the corner. Assistant Coach Marshall Gaines passes out defensive equipment. Forrest Stillwell and Dan Forrester head outside to get the lay of the land.

There are “Go Wolves” signs everywhere. We know already we are facing a team eager for revenge. We beat them last year 3-0 in regular season, eliminating them from the playoffs. In Week 3 of this season, it was a 7-6 win right here in Wolf-Hood that stopped our losing streak and put us on the road to postseason.

Can we do it again?

There’s promise and hope in the air as the teams go through “Flex” and the fans, instead of heading for the seats, stay in their cars for warmth.

“Hand warmers anyone?” cheerleading coach Alyson Miller says from the track next to our bench. There are several takers.

With a hand too cold to keep stats and a brain too buzzed on Friday Night Mayhem, this is what I recall:

We again dodged bullet after bullet in the first half, what baseball great Yogi Berra would refer to as “Déjà vu all over again.” Wesleyan drives the opening kickoff down our throats and has a first-and-goal.

But – like shades of last Friday – our defense stiffens and – on 4th-and-2, a bone-jarring tackle forces a fumble in the end zone that the Bears recover.

But… we go three-and-out and the snap for the punt is low. John McKay scoops it up hurriedly and kicks it off but it’s blocked. Once again, the Wolves have it in our red zone.

And again our defense stiffens. A 29-year-field goal is wide left and the Bears have new life.

It would happen again. The Wolves take a second quarter punt and drive it outside our 25-yard line. But a pass is intercepted inside the 10 and the Bears appear to be living right.

The Wolves do break the ice early in the second quarter, however, when the lefty quarterback finds his wide receiver for a 30-yard strike and a score. The PAT is good and the bad guys are up 7-0.

“It’s like a heavyweight fight,” Forrester had warned the team all week. “They’ll throw a punch; then we’ve got to take it and throw one back.”

We do.

Wills Aitkens takes the ensuing kickoff all the way down to the Wesleyan 16. Then, on 4th-and-goal from the 4, Peter Allen takes a Will Allen handoff and cracks it in off-tackle for the score. Collin Rhea converts the point after and it’s 7-7.

The first half ends that way.

“We’ve been given a gift,” Railey says in the locker room. Stillwell agrees. “For us to play this poorly and to still be tied….I know we’re going to play better in the second half. Do we want this season to end tonight?”

A chorus of “No’s” break out through the otherwise silent locker room.

Each coach delivers their spiel. “You said you were going to do whatever it took tonight for us to win,” Mike Thornton yells. “We haven’t done that. Let’s go!”

The words are received; even this reporter wants to don a pair of pads and go play the second half – the half which would decide either a trip to Savannah or the planning of our post-season banquet.

Unfortunately…

Call it fate, call it God’s will, call it the Divine Plan. Regardless, the Football Gods smiled down on the Wolves in the second half. And give them credit – they played a good football game.

On the other hand, however, you ain’t human if you don’t feel for our kids – especially those seniors who have given six years of their time (including JV) to make this trip happen. To see Mo Green wrap up for another tackle. Connor Randall foiling a would-be passer. Collin Rhea stepping up on both sides of the ball and special teams. Rawson Allen recovering from a bone-splitting tackle the week before only to suit up and hit the field again; the spirit of Tucker Lansing, the guts of John Mitchell, the hands of Jack Farrell. There are plenty more.

Regardless, Wesleyan turns a HIES fumble into a score in the third quarter; they would add another TD in the fourth as time and the season runs out on our beloved Bears.

Later…
“I’m disappointed we lost but I’m not disappointed in any one of you guys,” Livezey says. The stadium lights – save one post – are all out. Even Wesleyan has gone in for warmth and next week’s plans.

Our Bears are huddled – no hibernation in sight thank you very much – at around the 15-yard-line.

Livezey himself is at a loss for words. After all, what do you say to a team of kids who have given you their guts, their livers and their spleens for all those years? How do you adequately wish these seniors well and praise them for their efforts? How do you recognize such a young football program already recognized as a power, even though these sentiments aren’t felt at the moment?

Maybe you just do exactly what these young Bears did: They just held on to each other and there were tears. They just slap backs, exchange hugs of respect and look each other in the eye. They huddle and stick close together out of respect and loyalty, out of love for the game, out of love for the program and their school.

True, the Football Gods – and a good Wesleyan football team – has ended this season. But nothing diminishes these positives felt here, these sentiments expressed here.

This is a good group to walk off this field with. This is a good group to share this pain with. This is a good coaching staff to mix in with. “You’re loyal to each other and you love each other – that’s what got us here in the first place,” Stillwell says.

He’s right.

And in spite of the pain – maybe even because of the pain – this feeling makes for a glimmer of hope deep down, a sense of joy, a sense of being in the right place, in the right time and with the right group of kids.

As the last post of lights go out – as the locker room doors open and close for us the last time, as the bus cranks up and takes us through the cold, across town and back home – there’s almost a smile in back of the tears.

After all, you can go through hell if you go through it with the right people.

We love you Bears!

Dunn Neugebauer
Nov. 22, 2008