Upon Further Review

It can’t be the talent that keeps Waynesboro football from winning ball games.

If you look at a backfield with Steven Brown (the bruiser), Terrell Thompson (the quick guy) and Chet Berry (the passer), what you see is a solid group of starters.

It can’t be that this team doesn’t want to win. The look in the players’ eyes as coach Steve Isaacs gives one of his “I-Shouldn’t-Have-To-Tell-You-What-To-Do” speeches tells it all. They look hungry. They look ready. They get pretty fired up.

It can’t be the coaching, even if Isaacs took the blame after the Little Giants’ 39-6 embarrassment at the hands of Western Albemarle on Friday. The second-year coach has a plan in place—namely the Single-Wing—that has been a proven winner in the past.

So what is it? Brown had the simple answer after the loss when he said the team needs some heart. The team needs to hear some thumping on the gridiron, not watch it take place on the scoreboard.

And, after a few days to think about it, Brown is right.

Hey, it’s high school football where mistakes are going to be made. Perfection is just a pipe-dream, even if it’s reflected in a championship-caliber squad’s record. (Don’t tell me for a second there wasn’t a single thing Buffalo Gap coach Rob Maxwell saw and didn’t like during the Bison’s undefeated run to last season’s Group A, Division 1 championship). So nobody should be blaming Berry’s interception on the first play from scrimmage Friday as the ultimate downfall of Waynesboro.

What should be blamed is the way the Little Giants handled that little nugget of adversity that was thrown their way from the get-go. And, to a man, they didn’t handle it well. From that point on they were held to 35 first-half yards and 10 in an equally abysmal second half, seemingly never able to recover from something that happens to every quarterback who has ever thrown a pass on the football field—an interception.

If the Little Giants go 1-9 or 0-10 this year, well, that’s all fine and dandy. Sure the masses (OK, not masses, but the regulars who head out on Football Friday) will moan and groan, but heck, at least you’re out there giving it your all. Right?

What would truly be devastating is going 1-9 or 0-10 this year because you show no heart on the football field. That’s unforgivable.

And another thing: But hey, if one player on the team knows they don’t play with any heart—that would be Brown—you gotta believe that there are a few others who see it as well. Brown hammered his point home while walking off the field Friday, saying that one little thing goes wrong on offense (then he lifted one finger to really drive the point home) and there’s nothing the team can do short of buying a spatula to scrape its self esteem off the floor.

“Nothing,“ Brown said. “Nothing at all.“

Yeah, there is something. It’s called having a little heart. But the rest of the players know all about this. Right? And if they do, fix it already. Fix it now.

Hey, wasn’t Stuarts Draft supposed to be dead, done, kaput after losing 14 seniors (or, as we like to call it, “Literally half the team.“) to graduation? Somebody told us this before the season started.

Obviously, nobody told Stuarts Draft.

There you go, Travis Shifflett. What’s it like dining at the big-boys’ table?

So, Dae’Quan Scott says it’s his team. The rest of the players say it’s Scott’s team. Heck, coach David Tibbs even said it was Scott’s team. It’s a perfect case of where ever this kid leads us, we’re gonna go. And that’s cool and all because, and let’s face it, you need someone like that on your football team. Someone who can chuck a whole game (or season) on his shoulders and carry the squad to states.

So, then let me ask, what the heck are five other people other than Scott doing scoring touchdowns in the Leemen’s 52-6 win over Alleghany?

Another question: Now how scary does this make R.E. Lee? (We’ll hang up and wait for your answer.)

Different school year, same old Pickle Nuckols.

And finally: The Little Giants open their home volleyball schedule tonight against Spotswood. Remember, leave that one corner of the floor open. It’s reserved for Granny Q. Always has been. Always will be.

(OK, really the last item: Week 2 Power Points in print and online tomorrow.)