FOOTBALL PREVIEW: No rest for Halos, who put in the work

By News-Argus Staff
Published in Sports on August 18, 2017 5:55 AM

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By JUSTIN HAYES

jhayes@newsargus.com

DUDLEY -- It was the type of heat that makes one question his sanity, tempered infrequently by a whisper out of the north that qualified, in all honesty, as angel's breath.

But still, along the wiregrass track infield of the Doyle Whitfield Athletic Complex on Wednesday, the Southern Wayne varsity football team worked in pads.

There is no rest for Saints, you might say.

And over the course of its two-hour gauntlet -- through burning calisthentics, barrel-runs, the swat of blocking pads and special teams reps -- the red-and-blue never exhibited weakness.

Here's a look, in heat-index diary scrawl, at how it all unfolded:  

3:02 p.m. -- Assistant coach and former Saint great Reginald McKinney probes the air with a wet bulb -- a newfangled instrument designed to let school officials know whether or not it's safe to practice -- and voila, perfect. The air is ripe for up-downs.

But judging from the sweat beads on his brow, which look like they each have a pulse, the result had to be somewhat close.    

3:19 p.m. -- "Thou... shall not jump offsides," cried out assistant coach David Lee during a simulation. "If you jump, you're coming out."

His voice, big and booming and deeper with the passing of another summer, clangs in the stillness -- even the reverb isn't kidding.

3:27 p.m. -- Snap, gather-step, kick. The first punt of the afternoon is rifled away, an end-over-end number that is picked up and returned in modest fashion.

The second, well -- that ends with some hanky-panky from assistant coach Claude Waters. "Flag," he says simply. "That's coming back."

3:32 p.m. -- Water, water, everywhere and another reading of the Bulbometer by McKinney -- all clear. "I got a cross (wind) today," he says excitedly. "A cross."

3:36 p.m. -- Shoulder to shoulder again for the Halos, who toe the line and await their next set of marching orders.

The silent dedication is impressive.

3:42 p.m. -- "Omaha, Omaha!!!!" is called.

Instinctively, I look for Payton Manning, who is somewhat notable in his absence. But in his place -- and across the track by the H2O island -- is head coach Ronnie McClary, Jr., who is walking with the aid of a cane.

"Achilles tendonitis," he says with an it-is-what-it-is shrug. Maybe so, but the timing is horrible. It's nothing, he assures, that will keep him off the sidelines tonight.

3:48 p.m. -- The wideouts are at the track's west end, working through the first five yards of their routes. Be clean, they are told. Be physical. Win your five yards.  

3:50 p.m. -- McKinney is drilling the option-pitch with a small group of Saints, and the action is hit and miss. More miss than hit, sometimes, but that's okay -- McKinney has the answer.

"I need y'all to look up Jamelle Holloway, from the University of Oklahoma," he says. "It should be fluid, pull him up!!!"

4:01 p.m. -- One-two-three-Saints, they cry. More water.

4:11 p.m. -- Waters is read-reacting with the linebacking corp, who makes polished steps backward, trained steps forward and quick steps side-to-side.

As they rip through each snap, a group of linemen some thirty yards away fall into the unmistakable chorus of up-downs. They work hard here at the Red House.  

4:14 p.m. -- It's not this hot in Death Valley.

4:17 p.m. -- McKinney looks around, nods his head and waxes about tonight from his post at the hydration house. "I think we're going to win," he says. "Our guys have been through a lot and put in the work."

Enough said.

4:29 p.m. -- A cowbell rings. Break time.

4:33 p.m. -- The siesta ends with two players in a good-on-good drill at the line of scrimmage. Neither gives an inch, and the team goes ballistic over their effort. If that kind of determination can travel, then the Saints just might have something this fall.

4:44 p.m. -- A blown pitch, the mother of all backfield mistakes, is followed by a clean one, which tailback Shawntwon Leach takes to the house. As the dust kicks up behind his cleats, McClary Jr. cries out a blast from the past.

"Go Rocket Ismail!!!!" he screams.

4:51 p.m. -- KK Barnes reads the backfield, sheds a block and slides down the line of scrimmage to levy the boom on Leach -- and Lee promptly goes nuts. Big-time.

"That's what I'm talking about, KK!!!!!" he says, sprinting around in flip-flops to celebrate the effort. His outburst also confirms one notion -- there's nothing in this world like positive reinforcement.

4:54 p.m. -- Barnes strikes again. Lee loses it again.

4:55 p.m. -- "What is this?" McClary, Jr. asks an offensive lineman. "You're going against a man that is five-foot one and 117 pounds... and you want to play patty-cake with him."

In other words, block. Claim your fame.

Change somebody's name.

5:00 p.m. -- The final break of the day. A few players sit on the steps outside of the Saints' locker room, their shoulder pads rising and falling in the meter of sweat equity.

They know it's not over. Winning time is never over.