"Ronnie Blevin, all-state last year, captain of our team, monitor and first classman," was the old boy's reply.

"Thanks a lot," the kid said, and he thought to himself that surely nothing could be finer than to have Ronnie Blevin smile at him as he had smiled there on the field. The kid, fifteen, had selected his school hero on this the very first day of school.

As the days passed, the kid fell into the regular school routine: classes in the morning, physical education in the afternoon and study hall in the evening. He saw little of his hero since they were in different classes and had different groups of friends due to the disparity in their ages and interests. For the kid, the high spot of each day was the time when he was dismissed from practice with the junior football squad; then he would stop by the varsity practice field and watch his hero run plays with the varsity. After a short wait, the varsity would be dismissed, and the kid would follow his idol to the locker room. Sometimes, on days which became special to him, the kid would find himself in the shower room when Ronnie came in, and he could admire his trim, wellmuscled hero and hear the happy voice laughing and joking with his teammates.

The third Saturday of school brought the first football game of the season. It was a beautiful autumn afternoon, and the entire student body turned out to watch the team in the initial defense of their state championship. The kid sat in the bleachers with his young fourth classmates and friends and cheered the team throughout the short afternoon. Ronnie Blevin ran and passed the team to a 27-6 victory, and when the coach took him out of the game shortly before the final whistle, the whole student body rose to its feet as one man and gave him a thundering ovation. A few minutes later the game ended, and the kid ran to the bench and, breathless at his own temerity, asked his hero reverently: "Can I carry your hemlet for you, Ronnie?" Adulation shone from his eyes.

"Sure, kid," said Ronnie, noticing the slim, fair-haired boy for the first time. "Take good care of it for me, now.”

"Oh! Sure I will!" said the kid, clasping the sweaty prize tightly in his arms. Ronnie smiled down at him and tousled the soft fair hair playfully. “I know you will, kid."

The kid felt a surge of happiness and well-being rise within him, and he accompanied his hero to the door of the locker room as if he were floating on a cloud. All the way to the locker room, hands slapped at Ronnie, and excited voices shouted congratulations to him. The kid felt that he, too, had accomplished great deeds that afternoon. At the door to the locker room, he reluctantly surrendered the treasure to the star halfback.

"Thanks a lot, Ronnie," he said.

"Thank YOU, kid," said Ronnie; then reading the hero-worship in the kid's eyes, he added, "How about me appointing you as my official helmet bearer for our home games for the rest of the season? Suit you?" He looked down at the kid, and once more his face broke into that sunny grin.

"Oh! Gee! Yes! Thanks again, Ronnie!" Ecstatically happy, the kid ran to tell his young friends of the honor conferred on him by none other than Ronnie Blevin.

The following Monday, the kid stopped as usual to watch the varsity squad after the juniors had been dismissed. When the coach let the varsity go, Ronnie caught sight of the kid on the sidelines and walked over to him smiling. "Hi, kid," he said, "so you're a football player, too?""

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