The first week of football practice was one of the best they’d ever had. Hard drills. Good plays. Plenty of sweat. Plenty of jokes. Plenty of brotherhood. By Friday afternoon, the guys were starting to feel like a real team. The crew walked to practice laughing about Tony’s stumble during Thursday’s scrimmage, arguing over who was fastest, and talking big about how they were going to dominate the league. But when they reached the field, something felt… off.
Coach Jimmy wasn’t pacing with his whistle. He wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t even looking at them. He was sitting on the low wooden bench, elbows on his knees, quietly talking with Stuart and Lenny. The guys slowed their steps. Marcus whispered,
“Uh oh.”
“Something’s wrong,” Derrick said quietly.
When the entire team gathered around, Coach Jimmy finally stood up. He tried to smile, but it looked forced.
“All right, fellas… listen up. I got some news.”
Everybody fell silent. Even Tony stopped talking. Coach Jimmy rubbed the back of his neck.
“This ain’t my decision—just telling y’all what the park told me.”
He took a slow breath.
“Phelps… ain’t giving us uniforms this year.”
For a second, nobody reacted. The boys just stared at him. Then the chatter erupted all at once:
“What?!”
“Why not?!”
“That don’t make sense!”
“What are we supposed to wear?!”
“Jimmy, for real?”
Coach Jimmy held up both hands.
“I know. I know. I’m as shocked as you are.”
Derrick felt something twist in his chest. Phelps had always been their field. Their summer home. Their childhood.
“What do you mean ‘won’t give us uniforms’?” Derrick asked.
Coach Jimmy shook his head.
“They said money’s tight. Priorities are shifting, and—” He hesitated, jaw tightening. “they just don’t have the money for uniforms for us this year.”
“So what are we gonna do?” Tony asked.
“What we’re gonna do,” Jimmy replied, ” is move over to King Park. I already talked with them, and they said they can provide uniforms for us.
King Park wasn’t bad. It was still in the neighborhood over on 40th and Nicollet Avenue, just across I-35. Many kids who hung out at Phelps, hung out at King Park too.
It used to be called Nicollet Field. Derrick remembered playing baseball games there when he was younger. It was right off of the I-35 Interstate. Every time someone hit a home run, someone would have to run out on the freeway to get the ball. It was renamed King Park in 1968 to honor Dr. King, and Ralph Bunche, Nobel Peace Prize winner, and Civil Rights Advocate, was the keynote speaker at the renaming ceremony.
“Man. That’s messed up.” Freck said, called Freck because he had freckles, and a bright red afro.
“Yeah.” Everyone else chimed in.
“This is STUPID! They ain’t got no money for uniforms? I don’t believe it!” A frustrated Tony said.
“And now we gotta go someplace else to play.” Marcus added.
“We’ll, we’re going over to King to start a team there.” Jimmy said, also pointing to Stuart and Lenny. “Anybody that want’s to go with us, practice is tomorrow, same time, just at King.”
Practice was over. That was it for the day. No scrimmage today. No one, even the coaches, felt much like practicing, or scrimmaging.
They can’t just move us like that!” Reggie said, as the fellas walked home.
“They ain’t moving us.” Marcus said. “Phelps ain’t having a team this year, because they don’t have money for uniforms. Period. If Jimmy and them wasn’t going over to King to start a team, we wouldn’t be playing this year at all, unless you wanna go all the way over to 46th street and play for McRae Park.”
“Naw, I ain’t playing for McRae.” Tony said. “I’d go over to Powderhorn and play for Ballentine before I play for McRae.”
“Man, Powderhorn is too far to go.” Derrick said.
Marcus nodded.
“For real.”
Derrick spoke slowly: “So what do you wanna do? Quit?”
Tony, Marcus, Leon, and Reggie went silent.
“We’ve been playing together since we were little kids playing Pee Wee football,” he said. “I’m not quitting just because some park board people don’t wanna pay for uniforms. I’m going with Jimmy to King. ”
Marcus nodded his head.
“Yep. That part.”
Tony exhaled.
“…yeah.”
Leon shrugged.
“Sounds good to me.”
As they continued walking down Park Avenue, it got quiet until Tony finally spoke up.
“I ain’t ready for summer to be over.”
Nobody responded. Everyone was thinking about playing for King instead of Phelps. It was going to be alright. It wasn’t that much of a change. They were still in the neighborhood, and they knew everybody there.
Truth was, Derrick thought to himself, it didn’t matter where they played, as long as the team stayed together. They were the team, and they were going to take it all this year. He just knew it. Because uniforms didn’t make a team. Parks didn’t make a team. They made the team, and the season wasn’t over. It was just beginning.