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Later after the team meeting on Sunday night, Coach Burton told me he wanted to meet with me before Monday's practice to give me information about the Pearce/Paterno Scholarship Award. I showed up promptly on Monday afternoon to find out what was up.

Coach Burton invited me into his office and offered me a seat on his couch when I arrived. The National Football Foundation gave $18,000 post graduate fellowships to the recipients of the fifteen finalist awards.

"The Campbell Award for the nation's top scholar/athlete will be announced at the NFF's awards banquet on Tuesday, December 4th," Coach explained. "The banquet will be at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel in New York City. The NFF will pick up actual and necessary expenses for the evening, including transportation, lodging, meals and tux rental."

"Tux rental?" I asked.

"The banquet is black tie," Coach Burton explained. "The NFF will pay for your immediate family to attend the dinner too."

"How about my girlfriend Penny?" I asked. "I'd love to include her."

"That would be at your or her expense," Coach explained. "They don't cover girlfriend's or fiancée's expenses."

"I guess I would have to miss some classes if the banquet is on a Tuesday evening," I said. "It is going to take awhile to drive the whole way to New York City. Would they pay for me to fly?"

"They would," Coach Burton responded. "The athletic department has another idea. Mr. Hurley [our athletic director] and President Spanier want to see you and our university gets maximum exposure with this award. It vindicates everything we've been preaching for decades to have our top athlete honored as a top scholar too. Coach Paterno is presenting one of the finalist awards at the banquet. Coach, President Spanier, Mr. Hurley and I are flying up on a charter flight the afternoon of the banquet. We may be able to get you a seat on the plane with us. Your last course is over at 12:30, isn't it?"

"That is my Geography lecture," I explained. "I have Art History 10 from 1:00 to 2:15 pm."

"You have that course scheduled as pass/fail, don't you?" Coach asked. I nodded yes. "You can safely miss it, if you make arrangements with your professor. There is one more complication. The charter flight is more expensive than a commercial flight. You would need to pick up the difference in cost between it and a regular commercial flight. I'm told the extra cost will be around $500."

"Wow, that's a lot," I gasped.

"Remember, this flight will get you to most of your classes on Tuesday and Wednesday except one," Coach countered. "If you fly commercial, you will certainly miss all your classes on Tuesday and Wednesday. Which makes more sense?"

"Catching a ride with you and Coach Paterno," I answered. "I'll talk to my dad and see if he can front me for the extra cost for the flight."

"Good," Coach Burton said. "I will get the athletic department to work on getting you a waiver so you can catch a ride with us. It makes the most sense of any possible arrangement."

"I guess," I agreed. "I had no idea it was this complicated to win an award."

Coach let out a long chuckle. "You haven't seen anything yet, Coach. I expect ESPN is going to invite you to their awards show two days later. That is in Orlando. You are a shoo-in for the Biletnikoff award."

"Best wide receiver?" I asked.

"That's the one," Coach Burton said. "It would be a travesty if anyone else won that award this year. Division I-A has never had a 5,000 yard receiver before."

"I never really thought about that," I said. "This is starting to feel a little overwhelming."

"Put it out of your head after you leave my office today," Coach Burton suggested. "We have three tough football games to concentrate on. We have got to take them if we want to achieve our goals this season."

"You're right, Coach," I replied. "Ohio State is going to be a pain in the butt from what I've seen on video so far today. I'll focus on that and forget about all these other details until after Thanksgiving."

"That's a good plan," Coach Burton said. "On to Phoenix."

"Yes, on to Phoenix," I agreed as I left.

My teammates did not need much encouragement to take practice seriously on Monday afternoon. They worked hard with little prompting from the coaches or team captains. Everyone understood we had reached the crossroad in our season. We would need to give our best effort to reach our goals. One smidgen less than our best and we would find ourselves in the same position as Texas and Oklahoma – thinking about what could have been. The other seniors and I had been there two years ago. Settling for second place in the nation was no consolation.

If we beat Ohio State and then don't have a letdown against Wisconsin or Michigan State, our vision would be at hand. We would spend our holidays in Phoenix and play for the national championship.

I called home Monday evening and talked with Dad. He agreed to add the $500 air fare to my tab. It was more important for me to make as many of my classes as possible, than to save a little money on the travel arrangements. I gave Penny a call next.

"Honey, how would you like to go to a fancy banquet at the Waldorf-Astoria on December 4th?" I asked when my sweetie answered the phone.

"What's the fourth?" she asked herself quietly as she searched for her calendar. "A Tuesday evening?" Penny asked when she located it. "I have classes until late in the afternoon. I can't miss them."

"I'm not surprised," I responded. "I knew it was a long shot but I was hoping you could come to see me get my award."

"I'll be there in spirit, honey," Penny said. "If it had been a weekend, I would make time to go with you."

"Maybe the next award," I replied. The two of us continued talking about classes and what was happening in our lives for a few more minutes before ending the phone call. Being able to talk with Penny frequently helped me to stay sane.

--oooOooo--

The Sports Illustrated issue hit the newsstands on Tuesday. I headed down to the bookstore in the HUB on way back to my apartment after my Art History class. I caused a stir in the store when I picked up two copies of the magazine. A couple guys were at the magazine rack looking at SI when I walked over. I autographed the cover for both of them.

Andrew and Brad did an excellent job on the cover. The cover was a split image. I was on the left side, with Mount Nittany in the background, staring at Ed. Ed was on the right half, glaring back at me. The effect was striking. The only beef I had with the cover was that Ed was positioned so he looked to be the same height as me. In real life I tower four inches over my buddy.

More people recognized me. Calls of "Beat Ohio State on Saturday," "I hope you get the Heisman," and "Way to go, Kyle," greeted me as I carried my two copies of the magazine up to the cash register. I thanked everyone for their kind support.

When I got back to the apartment I put one copy of the magazine in a gallon Zip-loc bag to protect it. Ed and I had agreed to autograph each other's copies of the magazine to increase its value for posterity. That would be something for my kids someday.

I read through the article quickly. Andrew had done a great job describing Ed and me and how we got into football, had improved our abilities and ended up with scholarships to a couple of the top colleges in the country. He made a case that the 10,438 yards I had gained since my 97 yard touchdown kick return started my college career did qualify me for the Heisman.

Andrew also made the case that Ed's play over the past eleven months had electrified his team and given them one shot at the national championship last January. He had his team in line for a second shot at the championship this season. I thought Ed's chances of getting the Heisman were higher than my own. I just wouldn't admit that to him.

Some of my teammates saw the Sports Illustrated article before practice. I got a lot of grief from them. That was a team tradition. It was our way to keep whoever had the favorable press from getting a swelled head and forgetting that football was a team game. We won as a team and we lost as a team – every one of us.

--oooOooo--

I was expecting an e-mail from the College of Education that week, letting me know which school I would be student teaching at. I knew I had to prepare a detailed study of the school similar to the one I had prepared last semester for Bellefonte High School. I would hear who my mentor teacher was within a few weeks. I needed to make arrangements to meet him or her and get to know them better before I showed up at their classroom in January.

Instead of an e-mail from the college, I got a curt e-mail Tuesday night from Dr. Henderson, my advisor. It said I had to call him during his office hours tomorrow to straighten out a difficulty with my schedule.

I gave Dr. Henderson a call in the morning before my first class. "Thank you for returning my phone call promptly, Mr. Martin," Dr. Henderson said as soon as I identified myself. My advisor wasn't one for small talk. He bulled straight to the problem. "You have failed your background check. You failed to disclose a drunk driving arrest last December when you were given clearance to work in the Bellefonte High School. Failure to disclose such incidents will force us to expel you from the degree program."

"What?" I exclaimed. "I told you about the drunk driving arrest a year ago. I gave you the letter from the DA and a copy of the BAC that showed I was sober. How could you kick me out if I was arrested falsely?"

"Not the first arrest on November 13th," Dr. Henderson said. "You are clear on that one. I am talking about the second arrest on December 13th. The background check reports you were arrested on Beaver Avenue at 10:31 am by an Officer Michael Vaughn."

"Second arrest?" I stammered. "I wasn't arrested a second time. There must be an error in the records used for the background checks. I would remember if I saw Officer Vaughn again."

"There wasn't a second arrest?" Dr. Henderson said. He paused while he reassessed his plans. "Can you prove this?"

"How do I prove that something didn't happen?" I asked rhetorically. "That was finals week last fall. I was busy studying then, not out partying in the middle of the morning." I fired up my laptop while I was talking with Dr. Henderson. I finally got my calendar program open. "10:31 in the morning on December 13th?" I asked.

"That's right," Dr. Henderson agreed.

"I was in the middle of my History 161 final exam then," I said triumphantly. "I couldn't have been arrested for drunk driving. The exam started at 10:10 am and you have records showing I passed the exam. I could not have been at the location Officer Vaughn has placed me at."

"You will have to provide me with documentation for that," Dr. Henderson countered. "Your assigned school will see these reports too and won't have access to university records the way I do. This must be cleared up or the College of Education will be forced to remove you from the program."

"You're going to kick me out of college?" I asked.

"No, but we must remove you from the College of Education if you are unable to pass the requirements for a degree," Dr. Henderson replied. "Until we can get a proper clearance for you, you can not student teach and can not graduate. You will have to find a suitable alternate major."

"I will get back to you as soon as I can," I said. "Don't start removing me from the college yet. Someone somewhere has made a big mistake."

"I can give you until Friday," Dr. Henderson said. "It will be too late to assign you to a school if we wait longer than that."

"I will get you an answer well before that," I promised. I was flabbergasted when I hung up the phone. How could this have happened? Was Officer Vaughn pulling a fast one in retaliation for the trouble I got him in last fall? Kicked out of the College of Education? Not graduate? The consequences were too horrible to contemplate.

I called Coach Burton first. I needed someone on my side. If I got kicked out of college I knew I wouldn't be much use to him. Coach would help me fix this miscarriage of justice and keep me in my major. I knew it!

Marie said Coach was out for the morning but she would give him my message that it was urgent that we speak. I went through my English course in a fog, dazed at the shocking turn my life had just taken. I stayed after my History class to talk with Dr. Brennan.

"Dr. Brennan, I ran into a difficulty with the College of Education," I explained after the room cleared. "They do a background check on anyone who will be student teaching the next semester. My background check came up with an incorrect report that I was arrested for drunk driving at 10:31 am on last December 13th. That was the exact time I was taking your final for History 161. Would you be willing to swear an affidavit stating those facts?"

"Certainly, Kyle," Dr. Brennan agreed. "What happens if you don't get this problem cleared up?"

"My advisor is threatening to kick me out of the College of Education," I explained. "I can't graduate without doing my student teaching."

"I would be happy to give you an affidavit if that will help," Dr. Brennan agreed. "Of course, if that doesn't work, I'm sure I could get the History Department to take you under its wing."

"I don't think that will be necessary," I said. I chuckled at Dr. Brennan's light hearted attempt to recruit me again. "Of course I would have someplace to use the fellowship I just received if I did switch over to history."

"Fellowship?" Dr. Brennan said. "What fellowship is that?"

"I was named the Pearce/Paterno Scholar/Athlete this year," I said. "The award comes with an $18,000 fellowship to cover post graduate tuition."

"That is excellent news, Kyle," Dr. Brennan replied. "You let me know what help I can give you. Affidavit, new major – you name it and I'll help you make it happen."

"I'll stick with the affidavit," I said, "If I need it. Thanks for your help."

I headed back to my apartment for lunch before heading over to the Lasch Building. Coach Burton returned my call while I was eating lunch. Coach agreed to see me as soon as I could get over to his office. I gobbled down the rest of my sandwich as I jogged over. Marie sent me straight in to see Coach Burton.

"Coach, I have a serious problem," I explained after he had me sit down with him on his couch. I outlined my call with Dr. Henderson, the purported arrest and Dr. Henderson's threat to expel me from the College of Education.

"Henderson," Coach Burton said as he shook his head when I finished my story. "You certainly get into some interesting pickles, don't you, Coach?"

"Not by my doing," I replied.

"I don't think I will get anywhere trying to reason with Professor Henderson," Coach said. He chuckled. "We've crossed swords before. You have a problem with the police records. Let's work that angle. I doubt we will get anywhere calling the police department directly. I think we should jump up a couple rungs on the ladder."

Coach walked over to his desk, motioning me to follow him. He sat down in his chair and dialed his phone.

"Hey Bill, it's Bob Burton over at the university," Coach said. "I'm sitting here with one of my players, Kyle Martin. Is it all right if I put you on speaker phone?" After a short pause, Coach pressed the button so I could hear the conversation too.

"Hello Kyle, this is Bill Herrington, the Centre County DA," the voice on the speaker explained. "I loved that first touchdown of yours on Saturday. It was spectacular. I shouted myself hoarse at the game."

"Thanks, sir," I responded.

"Bill, Kyle and I are calling to see if you can help us straighten out a misunderstanding," Coach Burton explained. "I'll let Kyle fill you in on the details."

I went ahead and described the predicament I found myself in to Mr. Herrington. He asked a few questions, which I answered as I told my story.

"Let me make sure I understand everything correctly, Kyle," Mr. Herrington said when I finished. "Your background check reports you were arrested on December 13th at 10:31 am and charged with driving under the influence and underage drinking."

"That's what my advisor tells me," I agreed.

"This should be easy in investigate," Mr. Herrington said. "An arrest will leave a paper trail. Did the background check list a disposition for the case?"

"Not that I know of," I replied.

"I will have one of my assistants check the criminal records database for this case," Mr. Herrington said. "They will go over and examine the paper records at the borough police station too and confirm the accuracy of the database. It shouldn't take more than a week."

"Sir, that's part of my problem," I replied. "The background check came when they did a clearance to allow me to do my student teaching next semester. I plan to become a high school history teacher after football. They are assigning student teachers to schools this week. If I don't get this cleared up by the end of this week, I don't get assigned a school. No school, no student teaching – no student teaching and I can't graduate. The upshot is that I will be expelled from the college if this isn't cleared up this week."

I purposely didn't tell Mr. Herrington that the college I would be expelled from was the College of Education, not Penn State University. I didn't mind if he, a big Penn State fan, felt some urgency helping me get this problem fixed.

"Expelled!" Mr. Herrington gasped. His shock was apparent over the phone. "That won't do at all. We're going to need you in the next three or four games. I will expedite the review. I'll get back to you tomorrow. Bob, should I get in touch with you when I know more?"

"You can talk directly with Kyle," Coach Burton replied. "He'll keep me informed."

"OK, that's fine, Bob," Mr. Herrington replied. "Where can I contact you, Kyle?"

I gave him my cell phone and apartment phone numbers.

"Don't worry, Kyle," Mr. Herrington promised. "We will get to the bottom of this quickly."

"I appreciate your help," I answered.

"Thanks, Bill, I owe you one," Coach Burton added before hanging up the call. "Expelled from college?" Coach laughingly added after the phone was off.

"I said, 'Expelled from THE college, '" I replied. "That is absolutely true. I will be expelled from the College of Education if this problem isn't fixed."

" ... and you'll make a nice soft landing at the History Department if this isn't fixed," Coach replied. "You're going to make a hell of a football coach. You're already learning how to motivate people to get the job done."

"I don't want this hanging over me on Saturday," I replied. "I want to be able to concentrate on Ohio State."

"Absolutely, Coach," Coach Burton replied. "I want you concentrating on them too. Don't worry about this. I think Bill Herrington will get the problem fixed for you by Henderson's deadline. If not ... well, I have some other avenues I can pursue to make sure you complete your degree as planned." He chuckled. "There is NO CHANCE that the university will allow the College of Education to expel you a week after the university trumpeted you being named a finalist for the national scholar/athlete award. We would not look good if that happened."

"I appreciate your help, Coach," I answered. "I feel a lot better now that you're helping me fix this problem."

--oooOooo--

I sent Dr. Henderson an e-mail updating him on my efforts to correct the records. I promised to let him know as soon as I heard back from the DA. My phone vibrated during my Art History lecture. I glanced at the number. It was the DA's office. I hurried outside as soon as class was dismissed and called Mr. Herrington.

"Hello Kyle, I have excellent news for you," Mr. Herrington said when his secretary transferred the call to his office. "The error was caused by a clerk inadvertently copying the record of the November arrest instead of purging it. The new date and time on the arrest report was the day and time the clerk made the error. I personally checked the criminal database myself. Your record is clear."

"Thank you, Mr. Herrington," I replied. "I appreciate all your help in getting this cleared up."

"You owe me one, Kyle," Mr. Herrington chuckled. "Pay me off by kicking Ohio State's backside on Saturday."

"I'll do my best, sir," I answered. The Forum is close to the Chambers Building, so I decided to head over there and see if Dr. Henderson was in. I wanted to make sure he got the message and nothing bad happened to my educational career because an e-mail got misplaced. I got lucky. He was in his office.

"Dr. Henderson, do you have a moment?" I asked politely after knocking at his door.

"Mr. Martin, are you here to fill out the paperwork to change your major?" the smug old bastard queried.

"No," I answered quickly, struggling to suppress my anger with the idiot. "No, I'm not here for that," I replied more evenly. "I just got off the phone with Centre County DA, William Herrington. He found that there was a clerical error in the police database. He personally checked and told me it has been corrected. You can have the people running the clearance check again. My name will be clear."

"I BET," Dr. Henderson harrumphed. "Typical athletic department response. Call in favors and give their athletes special treatment. I've seen it too..."

"SPECIAL TREATMENT!" I thundered. "You've got to be kidding. I was singled out for special treatment – false arrest and jailing when I was innocent. The police arrested me solely because I was a football player. I wouldn't have a second drunk driving arrest in the records if I didn't have the first. None of this would have happened if I was a normal student. Hell, I'd probably have been one of your pets if I didn't play football. How many students do you advise with a higher GPA than me?"

"Um ... one or two," Dr. Henderson stammered.

"Stop denigrating me and give me a fair break," I demanded. "I love football. I love history. I love teaching. I want to find a way to include all three in my life. What is wrong with that?" I didn't stop to let my idiot advisor respond. "I expect you to do your job and have the clearance run. I expect to be assigned a school for my student teaching like every other student this semester."

"I have to follow protocols," Dr. Henderson snapped.

"Follow them," I growled back. "I KNOW the administrators at this university would not look kindly if the person they nominated for the national scholar/athlete award was kicked out of his major a month before the awards banquet. By the way, I am one of sixteen finalists for the award, picked from 122 nominees."

"I hadn't heard that," Dr. Henderson replied. I could see he was calculating what the higher ups could do to him if he continued opposing me.

"Do your job," I snapped as I stood to leave. "Get me a school and let me do my student teaching. I will be out of your life in a few months if you do that."

"I will tell the committee to run the clearance again," Dr. Henderson said as I stalked out of his office.

I knew I probably shouldn't have lost my temper with Dr. Henderson, but damn, that man made me boil. I would never have to deal with him again after he finished up my clearance. I had six more weeks of classes, finals week and then I was out of there. I would be safely out of Dr. Henderson's reach when I did my student teaching down in Philadelphia. That couldn't come too soon.

--oooOooo--

I didn't hear anything back from Dr. Henderson that afternoon. I let Coach Burton know before practice that Mr. Herrington had cleared up my problem in the criminal database. Coach was glad to hear everything was coming out the way it should.

I was still in the dark when we loaded up in the buses and headed for the airport on Friday morning. Coach Burton called me forward when the plane reached altitude and we were allowed to move around.

"I checked before we left this morning, Coach," Coach Burton said. "The College of Education has your clearance. You should hear shortly about the school you will student teach at."

"Thanks, Coach," I replied. "I appreciate all the help you have given me."

"Did you really have to yell at Henderson?" Coach Burton asked. I didn't manage to camouflage my surprise that he had heard about the argument.

"The S.O..." I said as my temper rose again. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Sorry, Coach. Dr. Henderson actually expected me to fill out paperwork changing my major when I showed up at his office yesterday. I kind of lost it after that."

"One of the things I like about you is the way you deal with setbacks and adversity," Coach answered. "You usually accept what is happening, deal with it and move on calmly. That is a good character trait."

"I'll try to do better, Coach," I promised.

"Don't let the Buckeyes get under your skin tomorrow," Coach preached. "They would love nothing better than you losing your temper and playing poorly. Make sure that doesn't happen, Coach."

"I will," I agreed. I headed back to my seat beside Trevor. I worked on some homework during the short flight out to Columbus.

We stayed in the University Plaza Hotel on the edge of the Ohio State campus. Trevor's and my room faced the Olentangy River behind the hotel. Quite a few of the team members headed for the indoor pool to relax that afternoon. I checked my e-mails before I went. I found something much more interesting than a dip in a pool.

The College of Education sent me an e-mail informing me that I would be doing my student teaching at the Conestoga Senior High School in Berwyn. The town was located in eastern Chester County near Route 30 on the Main Line into Philadelphia.

I went on-line for directions from the school to the apartment I would be sharing with Penny. The trip didn't look too bad. I would go straight down Route 30 into the city and follow it as Lancaster Avenue into the city. The apartment was two blocks off Lancaster Avenue. The estimated travel time was 38 minutes.

I was pleased with the school assignment. I had worried that I might get sent to northeast Philly or Bucks County, far from the apartment Penny and I would share. Conestoga was convenient to Villanova University too. I could visit Kenny Weaver if I wanted to. I was going to drive past his school twice a day.

I spent an hour studying the school's website, getting familiar with the school, its curriculum and traditions. One surprise I found was the starting time. First period began at 7:20 am. I was going to have to get up even earlier than I did for polar bear swims at scout camp to be there on time after a forty minute drive.

I headed downstairs for dinner with my friends. We were waiting in line when Coach Burton, Coach Adams, Coach Peterson and Coach Curry came in and joined the serving line. I dropped back in line to talk with Coach Burton.

"Hey Coach, I got some great news from the College of Education," I said. "They have assigned me to do my student teaching at Conestoga Senior High School in..."

"Berwyn," Coach added. "I know the school. They have a decent football team with a good winning percentage." He shook his head a little. "We haven't picked up any recruits from that school. They send guys to Division II and III regularly. Occasionally they have an FCS recruit. Dan Werley is a good football coach. I like him."

"I've met him too," Coach Caffrey added. "We attended a couple high school coaching clinics together. Dan's a good man."

Coach Adams teased, "How long do you think it will be before Werley recruits you to help train his football team?"

"I doubt that will happen," I replied. "I'm only going to be there for a few months. I don't think I would get involved in sports at all."

"Rrright ... sure," Coach Burton agreed. "An All-American wide receiver drops into your lap and he starts teaching at your school. Would you ignore him if you were the head football coach?"

"Dan has heard about the off season program you put together at my school," Coach Caffrey added. "We talked about it over lunch a couple times. He will be interested, Coach. He was disappointed that he hasn't been able to get his kids to do more than lift a couple times a week to prepare during the off season."

"I guess I'll find out when I get there," I replied.

"I'm happy you can put the student teaching worry out of your head, Coach," Coach Burton replied. "I want your head in tomorrow's game."

"It is, Coach," I answered. "#27, Eldon Burkholder – right cornerback for the Ohio State Buckeyes – 6'-0" tall, 190 pounds. He runs a 4.3 40. He plays solid coverage, rarely gambling to get turnovers. He can be gotten with a pump fake." I gave him a big grin. "I'm ready, Coach."

All the coaches got a laugh from my performance. I went through the serving line with the coaching staff but joined my friends once I got my food. We laughed and joked as we ate dinner. The mood was upbeat. Every one of us was confident we could beat the Buckeyes here in front of their red coated, hyper-passionate fans.