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When it was at 3500 East Meyer Boulevard, Southeast had a full-sized football field. But the school moved this year to combine with an elementary school and a middle school. The charter program utilizes African history and cultural lessons to target black students, who the program's supporters believe have been ignored by traditional schools.
School district spokeswoman Cynthia Wheeler-Linden says Southeast's sports teams got lost in the shuffle when the school moved. "The move was part of it, but I don't know how much of it was just the move. Extracurriculars have lost their historic flavor," she explains. "People used to fight to watch a team like Southeast and Lincoln College Prep play. Now we're trying to rebuild the community support."
District officials have been unable to address how the Knights became so impoverished so fast. The district's assistant football director, Caleb Clifford, says he doesn't know how funds have been allocated in the past. Ed Corporal, who started as the district athletics director this fall, says he hasn't been in his job long enough to understand where every dollar is going.
In late October, The Pitch asked school district officials to provide budget information that would show how Southeast's budget compared with those of other schools. On November 30, the district provided documents that broke down the overall $537,622 budget for athletic spending. But the documents did not include a school-by-school breakdown, and district officials said last week that such an itemization was not readily available.
Southeast has no booster club. Alumni occasionally return to talk to today's players, but the team lacks any organized fundraising. With players transferring out of the school as the preseason practices got under way, it was uncertain whether the school would even have a football team. During preseason practices in August, the Knights had just 17 players. By the first game, against Northeast High School on September 7, two more had joined. But not enough players had completed the 14 practice days required by the state, and Southeast was forced to forfeit the season opener.
"We didn't know we were going to have a football team until a week or so before the first game," Lewman says. "With the move, that started the rumor mill about whether or not we'd even have a team, and we lost some players. But then some started coming in."
At its peak this season, the Knights had roughly two dozen players, but by season's end, there were just 18. Some were just sick of losing. "Nobody goes onto a field expecting to lose. They go out there to win," Lewman says. "They got a lot of heart. After a while, though, it hurts."
Lewman was born in Galena, Kansas, and he excelled at sports in school in the small town. His professional life has been an odd combination of teaching jobs and occasional construction work. He has a seemingly inexhaustible supply of PG-rated insults. When a lineman flubbed a play during practice one afternoon, he said, "You look like a three-legged dog trying to bury a turd in ice."
He sees his primary charge as pushing the team to work together. At the practice before the Grain Valley game, Lewman faced his team while perched on the back of a sled mounted with four padded dummies. He told them to line up four at a time and jump into the pads as one. "Together! Together! Together!" Lewman yelled. In between stances, the team knelt like altar boys before the pads, ready to spring and repeat the drill.
Lewman hands out affectionately crude nicknames. One running back, 17-year-old Bryce Pulliam, earned the nickname Pissant because of his size. Pulliam is 5 feet 3 inches tall and weighs 110 pounds in full pads and helmet. Pulliam, a junior, missed last season because his grades were below the required C average. During his first game this year, Pulliam tackled an opposing player so hard that he gave himself a concussion. He played the rest of the game, and even made the last defensive tackle, before anyone realized he was hurt.
Another student, a bearded senior and four-year program veteran named Derek Suber, is "Boy Named Sue." The soft-spoken athlete, quieter than his teammates, was one of the team's leaders. "I play fullback, defensive end, kicker and punter," Suber explained at practice one day as he watched the younger players to make sure they were paying attention to Lewman. "I just take them aside one by one and tell them how they should be doing and what they should be doing," he said. "I know when they're paying attention because, if they are paying attention when the coach is coaching, then they look at the coach. They don't look at anybody else. If people pay attention, I don't really say much to them."
Antoine Day was preparing himself for NFL stardom. "I know college scouts are looking at me," he said. "I'm a very aggressive player, very versatile." Day started at quarterback, but with so few players, he often lined up as a receiver or a linebacker. With so few reserves on his side, Day knows that teams like Grain Valley can simply wear down the Knights.