"Fuck!", Jack Kramer exclaimed as he walked over to his bench after fumbling the ball in Toledo's red zone at the end of the
game.
He sat down on the bench and slammed his helmet on the ground. He looked up to get a quick glance of Coach Motherway
looking over at him before he turned away.
Dan Haluska walked over and sat down on the bench next to him, and attempted to console him.
"That fumble didn't even matter man, the game was already over anyway."
"Jesus Christ, I don't really give a shit, a fumble is a fucking fumble."
"Whatever man." Failing in his attempt, Dan got up and walked away from Jack. No one else tried to talk to him.
The game ended shortly later, with Vermont losing, and Jack, along with the rest of his team made their way into the locker
room. Ever since the Syracuse game, they made sure to at least act disappointed, so there wasn't much talking.
Everyone did their normal thing, and coach gave his post-game speech.
Jack still hadn't said anything since his telling off of Dan. He didn't seem too upset, but he obviously wasn't the happiest
camper either.
After Coach Motherway finished his talk, the team was free to go.
Jack walked out the sports complex doors and headed for his car in the parking lot. There were only a few cars left in the lot,
belonging to the other team members who drove. He got into his 2001 Honda Accord and turned it on. The music was
glaring out his pre-game playlist consisting of Daft Punk and Explosions in the Sky. He turned the music down as
quickly as possible, wondering how he was enjoying that five hours earlier.
As he drove out of the lot, he passed Senior teammate, Taylor Robinson. Taylor motioned for him to slow down, and he
walked up to Jack's window, which Jack obligatorily rolled down.
"Hey man," Taylor started in a very serious tone, leaning into his car, "don't...don't you get any ideas tonight..." Jack
wondered what he was talking about. "We're still gonna need you for the rest of the season, don't go poppin' any pills or
slittin' your wrists or nothing." Taylor managed to get the last word out before he couldn't contain his laughter anymore.
Jack didn't respond, just started rolling up his window and driving away, with Taylor quickly pulling himself out, still chuckling
to himself as he walked to his car.
Jack got on to Main Street and started making his way through the night back to his apartment. But instead of making a left
on Pearl Street as he normally would, he continued past, and took a left on North Street. He started making his way West
toward the lake. Eventually, he hit North Avenue and turned up it. Finally, he arrived at his destination.
Jack Kramer was conceived by Sarah Kramer and David Smith. Sarah and David had lived in Brattleboro since they were
both 18 years old. They moved away from home, Burlington, at that age, leaving their parents behind. They were a very
adventurous pair, and they each wanted a change of scenery from Burlington.
Sarah and David met each other one day, when Sarah was the server at a restaurant that David frequented. After a few
weeks of David coming to the restaurant often, to see Sarah, they decided to fall in love. They then decided that they
would leave Brattleboro together, and travel on the part-time money they had both earned. How far they planned on going
and where is unknown, as on their way through New York, David Smith left Sarah Kramer for another woman he had found
in Saratoga.
Sarah Kramer, heartbroken, made her way by bus back home to Brattleboro, Vermont, where she returned to her life, getting
back her waitressing job. Four weeks later, she found out that she was pregnant with David Smith's child.
A little less than eight months later, still waitressing with the large bump that would be Jack, Sarah went into labor. She
frantically called one of her friends from the pay phone where she worked to come get her and bring her to the hospital.
Five hours later, and a little baby boy was born, healthy as can be. Sarah held him in her arms, and named him Jack. But
there were complications on Sarah's end of the pregnancy and she was required to go into surgery. But during the surgery,
Sarah lost too much blood, and she passed away on the table.
Jack the newborn was left without a mother or a father to care for him. The hospital called up Jack's one remaining relative,
at the age of 58, his grandmother Susan Reynolds Kramer, the mother of Sarah Kramer. She made her way down to
Brattleboro as quickly as possible, and once she arrived at the hospital, she signed the papers to become his legal
guardian.
Once all the matters were settled, Grandma Susie (as she would become known to Jack) brought him back up to Burlington
with her where she would raise him like he was her own. The two had an incredibly close relationship, and it only grew
stronger as the years would pass, and Jack himself would grow. They were each all the other really had in their life. When
Jack developed an interest in football in the seventh grade, Grandma Susie nurtured it, and helped him along his path. She
continued working to pay for Jack's equipment, and she went to every single one of his games, from seventh grade on, when
Jack decided to walk-on to the Vermont football team, she was ecstatic.
On a November night in 2008, when Jack was 19, Grandma Susie passed away in her sleep at the age of 77. This crushed
Jack, but he didn't talk to many people about it, only a precious few. Her passing was just a few days before Jack's football
team, of which he had obtained the starting QB spot as a Freshman, was to play UMass Amherst. Coach Motherway, one of
the precious few, talked to Jack about whether or not he wanted to play. Jack told him that he did.
On that night though, Jack had one of the worst performances of his career, and whenever he looked up in the stands to
receive a consoling glance from his grandmother, she wasn't there.
After that game, he walked the three miles from the sports complex to Lakeview Cemetery, where his Grandmother had
been buried two days before, the dirt over in front of her grave still fresh. He just stood there for a few hours reading her
tombstone, over and over again.
And here he was now, walking to that same tombstone, two years later, after a bad game. He arrived and sat down where
the dirt had been, but grass now was. It had worn in that time, but the words were still there, plenty legible, and he read
them, over and over again, wishing she could console him. He cried.
This was not the Jack Kramer that most people knew, not the charismatic, funny, loud-mouthed leader. But it was the one
that Coach Motherway had known since that start way back when and still now as he stood leaning against a tree, watching
his quarterback in peace.