Then a strange thing began to happen. Almost as if it had been rehearsed, one by one the players began to come by where I was sitting and without saying a word, they reached down and rubbed the end of my fighter pilot's scarf. Early in the fourth quarter, with us still 10 points behind, several players came over, stood me up and pushed me toward Weed, who was standing on the sideline waiting to take the field. I said to him, "I think you're supposed to rub this scarf. I know it sounds silly, but...."
He said, "Yeah." And then he rubbed the scarf with both hands.
From then on he was nearly perfect. He took the Lumberjacks on a 69-yard drive, culminating in a 15-yard touchdown run by Ron Jefferson. Rick Wilson kicked the extra point, and it was 10-7.
We held them and got the ball back with 4:30 left, but we were deep in our own territory. That's when I jerked myself together, went to the sideline and knelt by Coach Hess. I said, "Jim, it's time. Run the sweep." He yelled something to Smitty, who was signaling the plays in to Weed that I didn't quite hear. Maybe I had a bad seat, but it looked more like a dive play to LeBlanc than it did a sweep. But it got us a first down.
Then I called 124. I distinctly heard Coach Hess yell that over to Smitty. We got 48 yards. Except Weed hit Noble, instead of Dixon, whom I'd designated as the primary receiver. It gave us a first-and-goal at Angelo's nine-yard line.
Two plays and a personal-foul penalty later, we were at their four with another first down. I don't know if this is true or not. I was a little too excited to remember. But Coach Hess swears it happened. He said I was yelling in his ear about us having been on the four once before and having given them a pass look. He said that I told him to give them the pass look again and then run the quarterback draw. Well, somebody called it, because it happened. Weed went straight in for the go-ahead TD.
SFA 14, Angelo State 10.
In the final minute and a half we shut them down completely, sacking Cox three times. And we went into the locker room the winning team, after having been beaten for three-quarters of the game.
Later, at a party at Coach Hess's house, he and I detached ourselves for awhile and went back in a bedroom to talk things over. I kind of scratched my ear and said, "Coach, when I called that sweep, to set up 124, it looked like a dive play to me."
"Well, you know," he said, "the sideline is the worst seat in the house."