Free Friday Night Lights: A Town, a Team, and a Dream by H. G. Bissinger Page A

it under his arm, and do
with a football what Michael Jordan did with a basketball, make
heads turn with a certain cut so pure, so instinctive, only God
could have given it to him. "He can By and dunk all special
ways. I can run and fake all special ways," said Boobie.
    He had hardly been a slouch his junior year, scoring fifteen
touchdowns in addition to gaining over a thousand yards rushing. But Boobie had very much played under the shadow of
Crow and spent much of his junior year blocking for him. But
no more.
    He acknowledged the loud applause of the crowd like a prom
queen or an Academy Award winner having the first of what
would undoubtedly be a lifetime of moments such as these.
Exuberant chants of "Boobie!" echoed through the room, and
the world belonged to him. It also belonged to his uncle L.V.,
who sat on one of the little cafeteria stools toward the back
wearing a cap that had Boobie's number, 35, proudly affixed to
the side.
    When he thought about the two of them, what they had gone
through to get here, it was hard not to feel that some miracle
had taken place. "We come a long way" was how L.V. said it with that soft laugh of his. "I guarantee you. We come a long
way." But now, at last, came the payoff.

    And on this night of the Watermelon Feed, his nephew
walked down the aisle with the flushed, irrepressible confidence
of someone absolutely sure of his destiny, the smile wonderful
and wide, the gait easy and sweet. Call it cockiness, call it a
horrendous case of the big head, but there was no one else
like him.
    "Why are the scores of Permian games so lopsided?" Boobie
himself had posed the question one day. "Because they only
have one Boohie."
    He was right. They only had one Boobie.
    And in two days, when Permian went up north to Amarillo
for a pre-season scrimmage against the Palo Duro Dons, people
would get their first real taste of what he was going to do this
season when he, and he alone, was the shining star of the
Permian Panthers.

     

CHAPTER 3

Boobie
    I
    THE PRE-SEASON SCRIMMAGE IN THE LATE AUGUST TWILIGHT
had barely started when Boobie peeled off a run that gave
glimpses of why the college recruiters were after him, why
Texas A & M and Nebraska and Houston and all the others
routinely crammed his mailbox with heady testimonials to his
magnificence.
    You have been recommended to us as an outstanding prospective
major college student-athlete.
    You had an outstanding junior year at Permian and I am sure
your senior year will be even better. You are in a situation that many
young athletes dream about.
    The entire Houston Cougar football staff has been in the process of
putting together the top list of high school senior football players in
Texas.... Booby, we feel that you are one of these few select players.
    James-we are in New York preparing for the kickoff classic and
enjoying the sights. Good luck in your first game. Looking forward to
watching you play later this season.
    They weren't interested in him just because he was big and
looked imposing in a football uniform. There were a thousand
kids in Texas who fit that description. It was something else, more than just strength or speed, a kind of invincible fire that
burned within him, an unquenchable feeling that no one on
that field, no one, was as good as he was. "Miles had the attitude," said former teammate Art Wagner with admiration. "He
thought he was the best."

    He had played his junior year with a kind of seething emotion that sometimes dissolved into quick frustration and discouragement. He easily got rattled, particularly when things
weren't going well, and there were times on the field when he
seemed as frazzled as a child. But there were other times when
that emotion made him spellbinding and untouchable.
    It had been there during the Abilene High game when he
gained 232 yards on eight carries and scored touchdowns of 62
yards, 80 yards, and 67 yards. His father, who lived in Houston,