COACHES' CORNER: Pete the coyote
This is the second installment of adventures traveling on a school bus in beautiful Arizona.
The opening of basketball season is something coaches and players look forward to. If your athletic director has half a brain, he or she will schedule someone you can beat or at least compete with.
Being athletic director and a basketball coach in 2005, I made sure I scheduled a win for our basketball coach. Tohono O'Odham High School would be the victims.
Where is Tohono O' Odham? That's a good question. You drive to Gila Bend, take a left, proceed to go through Ajo, hook a left at Why and head to Tohono O'Odham.
Tohono O'Odham is in the middle of nowhere. The closest town is Sells — and it's not close. The only thing interesting I can tell you about Tohono O'Odham is that they had a semi-trained coyote they named Pete.”
Pete was a coyote the size of a large domestic dog. He just hung around the school ground and everybody fed him. How do I know this? Another good question. It all began when I was standing outside the gym at Tohono O'Odham eating a delicious sack lunch sandwich, admiring the scenery. After my first bite, I noticed an animal I thought to be a wolf come around the corner. I was by myself, and I quickly thought, “If your players find out you dashed away from a coyote, it'll be major criticism. Stay and face this beast by yourself — even if it has rabies and rips my pants.” I stayed but the ham and American cheese sandwich was not going down my throat.
Feeling brave, I stood up and took two paces forward. The beast retreated — I had him. He circled slowly around, but I could tell he was only interested in the one slice of ham, cheese, white bread, mustard, no mayo sandwich. We had a standoff. It seemed like 10 minutes but it probably lasted 30 seconds.
I decided to break off a piece of the delicacy and throw it in front of the creature. It was downed instantaneously. Slowly, the overgrown coyote came closer with each morsel of food I threw. I made a Hansel and Gretel trail to where I was standing.
Two edible pieces left, and we were only a foot apart. The next-to-last bite was dropped barely six inches from my shoe. He inhaled it and looked up for more. One piece of school sack lunch left. I put the remaining tidbit on my open palm and extended it, closing my eyes. In an instant, I felt something wet. The sandwich was gone, and my hand still had five fingers.
I couldn't wait to get back in the gym and tell my players I had just fed a coyote.
“Don't lie to us, coach.”
“You tell us don't make up stories just to impress you.”
Downtrodden and disappointed, we played the game and won. It was a shallow victory.
Seven months passed and I received my vindication. We had to play Tohono O'Odham in football. The special teams went out early and I waited with the backs and receivers in the locker room. Not more than two minutes went by and the punter came running in.
“Coach, there's a wolf in our end zone!”
I knew it wasn't a wolf, it was Pete the coyote. I informed my players, “That was the animal I fed by hand.”
Again they wouldn't believe me. Almost on cue, Pete the coyote did his business in the right corner of our end zone and trotted off into the desert.
“You may never believe me, guys, but Pete knows the truth.”
John Blabe is athletic director and football coach at Antelope Union High School. He can be reached at jbcoachescorner@gmail.com
