lenny wells walked up the aisle toward the rear of the bus. He was wearing his fuzzy white Hibbs & Harmon cowboy hat, a gift from an Oklahoma uncle. He also wore a cast on bis left arm, no less a gift judging from the proud look on bis face, the sense of selfesteem that noble wounds tend to arouse. Sunlight came through the rear window and he blinked and winced into it, then grinned at Billy Mast and me, spinning into the seat in front of us and turning with the grin on his face and wincing again into the sun.

"They broke it," he said. "It's a clean fracture. Right below the elbow. I saw the x ray. It's broke clean. They broke it all right. No question about it."

"I hate to tell you how many yards they gained rushing," Billy said. "A lot of them right over my frail body."

"I didn't even see the last three quarters," Lenny said. "I was having this thing looked at. Having this thing of mine xrayed."

"Where's Creed?" I said. "I haven't seen Creed all morning."

The driver closed the door and eased onto the highway. This time there was no separation of offense and defense; the two buses were mixed. Lenny turned toward the front and put the hat down over his eyes. The sun came in through the side windows now. Physically I felt more or less intact. After the game the trainer had looked at my ribs and they were all right, just bruised. Both my legs were bruised also. With the game over I wondered what had made it seem so important. It was nothing now. I remembered only by my body, vaguely, in terms of soreness. There were two games still to play but I didn't look forward to them. I realized I had nothing to look forward to, nothing at all. I hoped this was just a momentary postgame depression.

"How's Conway?" I said.

"Collarbone," Billy Mast said. "I don't know how bad. He must be in the other bus. I haven't seen him. But I know it's the collarbone. Kimbrough told me at breakfast. They got the collarbone."

"How's Lee Roy Tyler?"

"Knee. They got the knee. Wrenched knee. Not too bad. He'll be ready."

"What about Randy King?"

"Knee. Knee. They bundsided him. They got him good. Last play of the game. The blind side. They got the knee. They caved it in on him."

"What about Yellin? How's Yellin? He was really hopping around."

"They got the ankle. They kicked it and then stepped on it. I saw it this morning. The right ankle. It's badly swollen. It's purplish in color. He'll be limping for a few days."

"Dickie Kidd," I said.

"Shoulder separation. Deep bruise on left calf. Latter injury reported to be of particular interest. Starshaped. Multicolored."

"How'd he get it?"

"Shrapnel," Billy said.

"What about Jessup? Jessup was running around halfmad. Signs of violence were rife."

"He bit his tongue. Fat lip too. Swelling under both eyes. No further comment at this time."

"Who else got what?"

"Bobby Iselin, pulled hamstring. Terry Madden, broken nose. Ron Steeples, mild concussion. Len Skink, worms. Everybody else, assorted contusions and lacerations."

"What about Fallon? I saw them working on Fallen in the training room."

"Fallon. An oversight on my part. Fallon. They got his middle finger."

"What did they do with it?"

"The............