Travis, Tim Left With Questions
Some day, say 60 or 70 years from now, a couple of crotchety ex-football players named Tim and Travis are going to get together for lunch, crank up their hearing aids and debate once again that ever-pressing question:
Who was better on that cold, windy night--Esperanza or Los Alamitos?
“The answer is so obvious,” Travis will say, digging into his plate of liver and onions. “We dominated that night. You could hardly get a pass off.”
“Not so,” Tim will answer, whacking his cane against the table. “If it wasn’t for the wind, I would have thrown for 300 yards. You never got a hand near my jersey!”
Will it ever be settled? Probably not, which is what 14-14 ties are all about. Esperanza and Los Alamitos finished their 1992 season showdown Saturday night with a co-championship, disappointing some, satisfying others.
“At least we didn’t lose,” said Aztec tackle Travis Kirschke, who had as much blood on his pants and jersey after the game as Rocky after a championship fight.
“I don’t know what to say, really,” Kirschke said. “I’m just like clueless.”
Which is how many of the 9,000 fans probably felt walking to their cars. Whatever side you rooted for, you probably hoped for some kind of conclusion to this ongoing saga. Then again, maybe not.
The game played out like an Ingmar Bergman film. Half the time, you weren’t quite sure which way it was going. Carey looked good, then he looked horrible. The Esperanza defense swept in like a tidal wave, then collapsed in a puddle . . . and so it went.
Certainly, there were highlights. Esperanza cornerback Kevin Shoup picked off two of Carey’s passes and nearly grabbed another. For him, the tie was nothing but trouble.
“I’m definitely disappointed,” Shoup said. “I’ve been dreaming about this game all year. Oh man! I’ve worked harder this week than my whole life. I’m not real happy.”
Anyone coming to see the Ultimate Showdown probably was a bit disappointed. Carey, known for his connect-the-dot pass plays, looked shaky from the start. The passes that normally buzz like hornets into his receivers’ hands were flipping about like pesky flies. Besides a brief moment of beauty--he lofted a perfect spiral to Don Ruberio for a 50-yard touchdown play in the third quarter--he appeared a bit frozen.
Whether that was because of the weather--cold enough for igloos--or nerves, it’s tough to say. Considering that Carey has the body fat, and the figure, of a carrot stick, the cold had to mean hypothermia set into his ultra-talented frame when he stepped on the field. It’s tough to toss a football when your fingers have turned to Fudgsicles.
Fitting or not, it was the Tim vs. Travis finale, at least on the high school level. Carey, the crossbow of quarterbacks, will no longer face the Kirschke Crush. Carey will be a showpiece for Stanford. He’s off to Walsh’s World.
Kirschke, who has yet to commit to a college but has narrowed his choices to somewhere in North America, no longer will rock the local earth with each and every tackle. He’ll no longer tear up Orange County like a football-mad Tasmanian Devil.
But Kirschke admits he’d like to do lunch some day with the player he has come to respect. You don’t spend two years watching Carey calmly stand in the pocket while you’re flying in for the kill without building up a certain amount of admiration.
“He’s a nice guy,” Kirschke said. “I’d like to get together sometime.”
With Carey, you can’t be sure. Judging by his expressions after the game, his emotions changed with every question. First he sounded like a boy bent on boosting his self-image, then he sounded like a kid who wanted run off and hide.
Not that Carey--or Kirschke--had anything to be embarrassed about. Both played out the finale the best they could and wound up with a tie.
It’s up to them to debate which way it would go if they could play it out one more time.
Barbie Ludovise’s column appears Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. Readers may reach Ludovise by writing The Times Orange County Edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, 92626 or by calling (714) 966-5847.
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