Part 1, Episode 15: "Losing the War"

The day was billed as “The War Within the State,” a takeoff on the synonym for the Civil War, “The War Between the States.” This was actually appropriate since the Fighting Ferrets’ opponent on the football field was in-state rival Key College. For a school better known for producing engineers and soccer players, they had a strong football team for Division III this season.

The match-up on the field promised to be as lopsided as the Civil War battle that would be reenacted at halftime, The Battle of the Monacacy. In that battle, the grey-clad northern troops made quick work of the blue-clad southern army on a battlefield that was now, along with many such sites in the Maryland-Virginia-West Virginia region, a tourist site maintained by the National Park Service.

The day’s festivities began with both armies marching through campus and setting up behind the end zones on the football field, ready to engage in battle. Conrad noticed the first minor glitch in the proceedings when the northern troops stationed themselves behind the southern end zone and the southern army staked out the territory behind the northern end zone. He doubted that very many fans would notice this, however, unless they started including compasses with flasks for liquor. Conrad made a note to himself to investigate marketing that unique idea.

By 11:00, two full hours before the kickoff, the area outside Farnsworth Field was bustling with activity. The parking areas closest to the field had been roped off and used to set up a Civil War fair, complete with vendors and historic exhibits. Of course, Freddie was there, working the crowd, hugging small children, and having his picture taken with adoring fans.

Conrad noticed the two best sellers at the vendor booths were anything with a Confederate flag and Freddie Ferret dolls clad in a southern soldiers’ uniform with the school’s distinctive “FF” symbol. Fortunately, the school was using that now instead of the even more distinctive “FU” that formerly adorned Farnsworth souvenirs. That was one mess that Conrad had not been required to clean up himself, although sales had dropped after the switch.

In the moments preceding kickoff, the Farnsworth band played “The Star Spangled Banner,” then followed with a rousing rendition of “Dixie.” Although Midville was located only twenty miles below the Mason-Dixon line, it was solidly a southern sympathetic town. If a casual observer had not noticed the preponderance of Confederate “Stars and Bars” shirts and other apparel, not to mention the countless flags adorning pick-up trucks in the parking lot, they would have been taken aback by just how raucous the crowd became after hearing “Dixie.”

This excitement carried over past the start of the game, and the unusual enthusiasm displayed by the home crowd appeared to pump some life into a Ferret squad devoid of any spark in their last two lopsided defeats. The Key College players found themselves knocked back on their heels, apparently surprised by the energy the Farnsworth team showed in the early going.

Late in the first quarter, the game was still scoreless and the Ferrets faced a third down and fifteen-yards-to-go situation on their own 26-yard line. At this point an amazing thing happened—they scored a touchdown. This might not seem like a big deal, but after going three-plus games without crossing the goal line, it was a monumental achievement. Any question of that would be removed by the play-by-play call from Troy Flemstone.

“The Ferreth have the ball third and fifteen at their own twenty-thix yard line. Thingletary dropth back to throw. He feelth prethure from the left. He rollth to the right. He stopth and throwth downfield. Edwarth is open at midfield. He makth the catch! Heth got one man to beat at the thirty-five. Heth pulling away. Heth going to thcore! Heth going to thcore! Thon of a bitch, heth going to thcore! Touchdown, Fighting Ferreth!”

Translated, Farnsworth quarterback Seymour Singletary had found wide receiver Paul Edwards wide open near the 50-yard line, and he streaked in for a 74-yard touchdown, the Ferrets’ biggest play of the season. The fact that Edwards was wide open was hardly a surprise. He was a 6’3” 195 pound sophomore with great speed and good moves. Edwards had been clocked as fast as a 4.35 in the 40-yard dash. Unfortunately, he usually could not catch the ball. His attempts to do so often looked like someone trying to pick coins up off the floor while wearing mittens. Have you ever tried that? Not very pretty, is it? Therefore, teams that had scouted Farnsworth seldom bothered to give Edwards more than token coverage in their defensive schemes. For reasons unknown to anyone, he managed to hold on to this pass, and once he did, no one in a Key uniform was going to catch him.

The Ferrets’ offensive outburst proved to be a fluke. The Chains of Key College decided they should cover Edwards a little closer and, not used to any kind of defensive attention, Edwards was not heard from again in the first half. Farnsworth turned the ball over twice in its own territory in the second quarter, but the defense rose to the challenge. Still fired up from the shock of Edwards’ score, they stuffed Key and held them to field goals following both turnovers. This enabled the Ferrets to leave the field at halftime to a chorus of cheers and holding a 7-6 lead.

Both teams moved off the field very quickly, since the Civil War reenactment participants had been edging closer and closer to the field during the last five minutes of the half. In fact, on Hopkins’ second field goal, the ball sailed through the upright and knocked the rifle out of a surprised northern soldier’s hands, drawing a loud roar from the crowd.

Despite their home-field advantage, the south went down to defeat in this Readers’ Digest version of the Battle of Monacacy. The reenactment had not been condensed quite enough, however, because the teams returned to the sidelines while the battle still raged. A warm-up kick by the Johns Hopkins punter went astray and landed in the middle of a charging group of northern soldiers. With the north momentarily in disarray, the southern army, egged on by the crowd, pressed the advantage and quickly gained the upper hand. The north regrouped, however, and the participants returned to the script.

When the southern general ordered his forces to retreat, the crowd rained boos down upon the field. Conrad swore he saw some money changing hands, meaning some spectators had bet on the south. He hoped they were not history majors at Farnsworth.

The start of the second half was delayed even further when, after the players reclaimed the field, they discovered something left behind by the combatants. More precisely, the horses they used had left calling cards on the field. Unable to find Four F, Conrad, via walkie-talkie, organized members of the Farnsworth maintenance crew to get out BIG shovels and clean up the field.

By the time the field was cleared, most of the energy had left the stadium, and so had nearly half of the 9,000 fans, the biggest Farnsworth crowd in four years. Apparently as many people had shown up to see the reenactment as had to watch the football game. Well, Conrad thought, at least they saw a decent half of football. He hoped they would kick themselves for missing the first Ferret victory of the season, but his team would probably have to find a way to score at least a few more points to make that happen.

The delay and malaise in the stands affected both teams, and the quality of play dropped off sharply in the second half. The game became a battle of turnovers and field position, and unfortunately for the Ferrets no team turned the ball over as often as they did. Twice more in the second half, Farnsworth miscues set Key up in scoring position, only to see the Ferret defense hold the Chains to field goals. As the clock wound down late in the fourth quarter, Key clung to a 12-7 lead.

The Ferrets had one last chance, returning a Chains’ punt to their own 24-yard line with 55 seconds remaining in the game. Having used up all of their timeouts on defense trying to get the ball back, Farnsworth would have to go to the air to try and pull this game out. Everyone in the stadium thought that except Ferrets’ coach Stump Williams. Farnsworth’s first play from scrimmage was an off tackle play that burned up 23 precious seconds. Conrad had to walk away from the broadcast microphone to avoid calling Williams a “cross-dressing moron” on the air. “Everyone else probably already knows that,” Conrad ruefully thought.

The Ferret’s next play was a pass that gained only two yards. The receiver stayed in bounds, forcing quarterback Singletary to take the next snap and throw the ball to the ground and stop the clock. There were only five seconds left on the clock. Conrad thought that a second miracle play today was extremely unlikely, so he prepared himself to see Farnsworth’s record fall to 0-6. He was not all that disappointed, however, because the squad had showed some spark and stayed with a team that he thought would beat the Ferrets by three touchdowns.

Singletary dropped back into the shotgun formation to take the last snap of the game. He had three wide receivers on the left side and Paul Edwards split out to the right. Singletary took the long snap, put the ball in his left hand, looked left, pumped left, then suddenly spun around, switched the ball to his right hand, and
flung it downfield.

Once again, Paul Edwards was open. He had drawn coverage on this play, but broke free with a nifty cut to the sideline on his pass route. Singletary had been hit late in his delivery, causing the ball to hang in the air and wobble on its way toward Edwards. He came back about five yards for it and made a fingertip catch at the Key 45-yard line. A Chains defender had caught up to Edwards when he had to backtrack, but Edwards still had a step on him. Edwards, having done a Jerry Rice impression with his catch, proceeded to run like Bob Hayes and quickly put distance between himself and the defensive back. By the time he crossed the 20-yard line, he was a least four yards ahead of the pursuit. As he crossed the 10-yard line, Edwards began to hold his arms up in the air.

Conrad, watching from his perch next to Troy Flemstone in the press box, was pumping his fist, enjoying what would be the highlight of the season. Then, he heard what sounded like an explosion.

Then everything went dark.


Conrad felt himself coming around, not immediately sure what had happened or where he was. After a few moments, he was finally able to focus his vision well enough to determine he was in a hospital. Turning slightly to his left, he spotted a nurse checking readings on a machine, probably a blood pressure indicator.
“What happened?” he asked the nurse.

“You suffered a concussion, Mr. Kondradowicz,” the nurse replied.

The throbbing headache Conrad was experiencing had led him to already conclude that. “Anything else wrong with me?” he asked.

“A few bumps and bruises, but nothing serious,” she said.

“Wow, I had the weirdest dream while I was out. I had been fired from my job and wound up at a school out in the sticks where the mascot was a freakin’ ferret. And the guy wore a ferret suit all the time!” The room fell silent, and Conrad slowly turned his head in the other direction. There, he spotted the freakin’ ferret.
“How long was I out?” he asked the nurse.

“About two hours, it looks like,” she answered.

Conrad slumped further into the hospital bed. After a moment, he turned toward Freddie and said, “Hey man, I’m sorry for that remark. You deserve better than that.”

“No prob, Conrad,” Freddie answered. “You’ve had a tougher day than I have.”

The nurse completed her work and left Conrad and Freddie alone. “So tell me, what the hell happened?” Conrad asked.

“Are you SURE you want to know?” Freddie asked hesitantly.

“Since you put it that way, probably not, but I guess I have to. What happened?”

“Right before the ceiling fell in, do you remember hearing a loud boom?”
“Yeah, what was that?”

“The group that did the Civil War reenactment thought it would be cool to bring a cannon along and shoot it off if by some chance we scored a touchdown.”

“But they didn’t when we scored in the first quarter. I would have heard that over the crowd.”

“That’s right. They had whatever they use to fire off a cannon like a blank in a pistol. It didn’t work, so I guess one of these geniuses thought they should try live ammunition if we scored again.”

“You mean the press box was fired on by a cannon?

“Yep. I guess it just happened to be pointed at the press box when they fired it, and the shot clipped the top corner right above you.”

“God almighty. Did anyone else get hurt?”

“Well, Troy suffered a broken collarbone and got banged up pretty bad, but no one else was injured.”

“That’s too bad about Troy, I’m sorry to hear that. Well, we may have taken casualties but at least we won the game.”

“Yeah, about that. We lost.”

“What are you talking about? Edwards had the ball around the five-yard line the last I remember and no one was around him.”

“That’s right. Unfortunately, they shot the cannon off before he had actually crossed the goal line. Well, the explosion scared him and he dropped the ball. When he tried to dive for it, he stepped in a pile of horse poop the ground crew missed when they cleaned up after halftime. Key recovered the fumble, and that was that.”

Conrad stared at his furry friend for a moment. Finally, he shook his head slowly and said, “Un-Freakin’ believable. That’s bizarre, even for Farnsworth.”

“It could have been worse,” Freddie said.

“How?” said Conrad, incredulous at the notion.

“You could be the one with the broken collarbone,” Freddie replied. “Apparently Troy saw the ceiling falling in and pushed you out of the way. The bulk of the debris fell on him.”

“Yeah, I remember falling down right before the lights went out. That was him pushing me, wasn't it.” Conrad said.

“Yep,” Freddie confirmed.

“Thufferin thucotath,” Conrad said as he prepared to beg the nurse for morphine.