Homer (H.D.) Robertson

Football fever takes up residence in this Central Mississippi town, population 5,000, every fall. Twelve players is about all this team ever has…12 players who win with their hearts…12 players, not always the same, but 12 players from this town who have won more games than any other 12 players in the entire state. The previous Coach had been there for years and now his son was taking over where his father had left off…a son who had only 2 weeks to prepare for the first game of the year…what would play well on this night? Folks with blankets and stadium seats, children laughing, running…off key notes from the new band…cheerleaders jumping about in green and white short skirts…all noises necessary for any worthwhile football stadium…the fans kept coming until the stadium was overflowing. The other team arrives and piles out of bright yellow school buses. Both teams are now on the field waiting…

Eyes search the twilight sky. A stillness falls over the crowd as a tiny dot, the twin-engine plane, appears. The plan circles and a sky diver begins his slow graceful descent…a red plume of smoke leaves a trail. He lands perfectly on the fifty yard line, game ball in hand. We stand for the National Anthem. And then, an extraordinary sound, as if all the people in the stadium had sucked in their breath at the same time as all eyes, once again, look up. A second plane, a second sky diver, with an American flag attached is writing “H. D.” in the sky. As the last note drifts through the dusk, the second diver makes a perfect landing into the now Gillespie-Robertson stadium, renamed this night for their beloved former “Coach”.

My brother, Cotton (H. D.) Robertson, would have had a “hissy-fit” if all this was staged before HIS opening football game. If he couldn’t coach, he would rather be dead. We had buried him on Wednesday, two weeks ago.

(c) copyright

4 thoughts on “Homer (H.D.) Robertson

  1. Beautifully written … felt like I was there.

    On a different note, I think it’s great how football is part and parcel of American culture. I don’t understand anything about it [the game], and football will forever be what you call soccer. If there are any ‘national sports’ back home they got to be soccer and hockey. Hockey is really big and there are a large number of Swedish players in NHL.

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    • Football was a big part of my family’s life. Recently, I learned the game of soccer from the Canadians at the University. The majority of the soccer team is from Canada. I told them I was going home with them because they were so great!!

      Thank you. I had hoped I could place the reader “there”.

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  2. You are much to generous. Thank you. I wrote so freely in the past and I am trying to see if I can once again capture that style by looking back.

    Creativity was not allowed in a dissertation. My committee forever reminded me that I was not writing a novel. In realizing one dream, I lost another.

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