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Show 29, Jeffries, Islamorada [Section 4] of his children by this woman would snare and slay a god, would pillage and blaspheme and struggle to defend the future Troy, perhaps haunted by the fury in the eyes of the two girls he would turn down. It seemed the Parisian choice. Married by a hedge-parson. . . A morning he found himself hanging around the gym. The large, disembodied heads of the football staff watch him from their office, from behind their Dutch door. One of the older boys he knew came walking up with that good bowlegged walk that coaches look for, and the shirt, black and gold, de rigueur, and lettered Coral Beach PRIDE. "Say Coach," Clayton laughed nervously, "surely that can't be the same pride which is the never-failing vice of fools. And you don't mean the pride that goeth before destruction--" "Dory Clayton why don't you knock off that bull-crap and come in here and help us." "What well no me, I--" "I know you coached up north. . "Yeah I ran this intramurals thing but--" "Look, we're one short. I need--what you can be is defensive line coach." "But I don't. . .know where those O's. . ." "Okay to start with the O's are offense. But |