The Face in the Picture pt 1

I wanted to give my readers (both of you) a Christmas present.  In that this is a non-profit blog, I didn’t have much to spend.  So I am giving you a story.  Over the next couple of week I will share with you all a short story written specifically for Christmas.  It is vaguely based on a sermon illustration I heard a long time ago.  But I took a 3-minute illustration and made it into a 4-part short story.  Please read and, I hope, enjoy a Christmas gift for you.  Merry Christmas and may God bless your Holy Days.

The Face in the Picture

Everyone in the little town of Greenwood knew it was going to be a tough Christmas for James Edward “Buzz” Sawyer. But they figured he could handle it, because you don’t get a nickname like “Buzz Saw” if you are not tough. Buzz was the successful, and approaching legendary, head coach of the Robert Frost High School football team.

When he arrived, Frost High School was a program that celebrated a five-win season. Over the years Buzz changed everything.  He replaced the pastel blue and cream school colors with black and royal blue.  The school mascot morphed from the “Poets” represented by a quill to the Warrior represented by a Celtic savage.  But most dramatically he changed the psyche of the football team; over time his teams acquired his toughness.  The Frost High School Warriors were a force in 3A football.  In 15 years there were three state titles, 10 regional championships, and dozens of players had received scholarships to play at the next level.  His teams had a reputation for discipline, loyalty, character, and definitely toughness.

Buzz had a motto almost as famous as his toughness. “There are no rearview mirrors on a football helmet.” When he arrived, he used this slogan to help his team to move away from their past losing tradition. He used it to keep players focused on the next play, not their last one, regardless of how the last play went.  As the team began to experience success, this motto reminded them that past success did not generate future wins. In every practice, every team meeting, every pregame talk, somewhere he would say, “There are no rearview mirrors on a football helmet.”

Only two people knew about Buzz’s tender side, his wife Sandy and his daughter Christa. Christa had no memory before their life in the little town of Greenwood. Sandy and Christa loved being in a coaching family. They were deeply involved with the boosters and almost all the team events.  During the first few years at Frost High, Sandy, a college soccer player, even helped coach special teams a little.  When Frost won its first ever state title Sandy and Christa headed up the trading card fundraiser that commemorated the historic occasion.  Christa, overly proud of her dad, secretly ordered 2000 trading cards featuring his picture, and a place on the back for his autograph.   

In the fall, when the Warriors began their defense of their championship title, Sandy was not feeling too well. A summer cold and cough would not go away. By homecoming, the diagnosis was non-smoking lung cancer. When the Warriors faced a second round opponent and Sandy wasn’t in the stands for the first time since she married Buzz, no one’s concentration was on the game. A lesser team bounced the Warriors out of the playoffs, but in view of Sandy’s illness, no one seemed to care.

That Christmas, their last together, was picture perfect. The football team came in mass to carol Sandy. Sandy and Christa decorated the Christmas tree using only Buzz’s commemorative trading cards. And Buzz bought a beautiful hand carved nativity set that was placed under a spotlight in front of the picture window. Were it not for Sandy’s illness, it would have been a perfect Christmas.

Two days before fall practice began, Sandy died. At her request, all the Frost High players, past and present, served as honorary pallbearers.  In the church where they prayed for her healing, they said goodbye. The funeral procession drove by the stadium on the way to the cemetery where they buried “Coach Sandy.”

That season was a disaster. Expecting to rebuild, Coach Sawyer didn’t expect a lot, but 5 wins and 5 losses was unacceptable. After Sandy’s death, he really didn’t focus on being a coach as much as being a father. He and Christa clung together and found their strength in their faith and each other.

That Christmas began a new tradition for the Sawyer household.  Neither Buzz nor Christa had the heart to put up a Christmas tree.  So they didn’t have any decorations except for the nativity set. They put their presents in front of it, put a spotlight on it, and that was all the decorating they did that year.  It was the most painful year of Coach Sawyer’s life, and it was also the last year that he and Christa could enjoy peace.

It was during this year the relationship between Christa and her dad began to change. Buzz knew it was the pain of Sandy’s passing, but it was complicated by the fact that Christa was acting like a teenager; for these and other reasons things changed. Christa the bubbling, free spirit that was once a delight to be near had become a surly attitude that was willing to fight over any little thing.

On top of everything else, Buzz was concerned about his job. The boosters and community had gotten used to winning and no coach can keep his job in a town accustomed to winners by producing 5 and 5 seasons.  Last season’s record haunted him with the restless specter of failure that could only be appeased with a spectacular season.  His response to every crisis of his life had been to work harder, work smarter and remember there are “no review mirrors on a football helmet.”  So Coach Buzzsaw dug into his work.  Spring practice took on a passionate urgency for players and coaches alike.    The days were long even for a workaholic like Buzz.  Before the next fall, everything looked fine. Buzz was back to his old self. Christa had come into her own playing softball and the Warriors were about to put together a great season.

No one noticed what was missing: the closeness Buzz once had with Christa. Even though they noticed, neither spoke about the growing distance between them.  The excitement of football can mask a lot of pain. So Buzz and Christa hid their pain in a run to the state title game. With 38 seconds left, …(to be continued next week)