At practice on the Thursday prior to our game the next night at non-conference Williamston, Coach Wagner admonished us not to go hunting the next day, which happened to be a non-school day, for whatever reason I don’t recall.

He said we didn’t need to be traipsing across fields and through woods, but should mostly rest.

So, some of the players went traipsing across fields and through woods the next day. Of course.

It was 1956, and I was a senior, as were about half of the team.

We were in a larger school classification than the Williamston Green Wave. And since we really didn’t have that far to travel, we dressed in our uniforms here.

By that afternoon the weather wasn’t ideal, to say the least. Cool and drizzly. So we took our rain repellent poncho-type capes with hoods, and over-sized shoulders, to be worn when not actually in the game. Smart precaution.

The game. Well, now. We were more than a little less than our potential best that night. In the damp conditions, and some with “tired” legs.

Oh, we won. By three touchdowns, in less than impressive fashion, and we did hold them scoreless.

As soon as the game was over, we headed to our bus for the short ride home. Most of us had pulled on our weather gear. The Williamston players did the same, for they had dressed out back at their school also.

Now Carl, one of our best players, evidently headed out to the bus rather quickly, and got on board and found a seat. Those already on, and those getting on, had on their rain gear also. A bunch of hooded ball players.

Then, Carl sensed something not quite right. Of the players whose faces he could make out, none looked familiar. Not a one.

That was when he realized he was on the wrong bus.

He quickly got off before the bus began to move, and got onto the right bus before we got underway.

His time as a “turn-coat” really didn’t last very long, and most of us were completely unaware of his brief time as a part of the Williamston High School Green Wave football team.

They would have been fortunate to have him.