Moving the Chains at Oak Hill

"When can I play offense?" asked another.

"Y'all need to shut up and think about what's going down right now," Terrell said. "I'm tired of all this other [stuff]. This is our house. We can't lose in our house. Somebody better make a play."

Then Terrell broke through the line of scrimmage and made the game-saving tackle by himself.

Travel Risks

When Oak Hill corrections officers heard the Tigers would play at Woodson, they joked about a frightening possibility: What if an Oak Hill player broke free for a long touchdown run and just kept running, cradling a football through the city streets in his uniform?

"Some of our people are actually terrified of that," said Vincent Schiraldi, a former activist who became director of the city's Department of Youth and Rehabilitation Services. "When you have a staff that for decades has experienced nothing but bad things and more bad things, what do you think they're going to expect? These are not people who want to take risks."

Schiraldi took charge in 2005 with plans to overhaul Oak Hill, a facility that he once said was unworthy of kenneling his dog. He created a Shakespeare reading and acting program and community service trips out of state. The goal: allowing Oak Hill's boys to gather experience outside the fences.

So when Oak Hill advanced to the semifinals and earned a chance to go off grounds? "Hell yes," Schiraldi said, "we're going." Oak Hill joined the DCIAA JV league -- the facility does not field a varsity team -- a decade ago but has had a football team for about 25 years.

The Tigers had made it to the DCIAA final in 2004, only to forfeit for fear of taking 20 players outside the gates. Schiraldi granted the team's request to leave for the final in 2005, but Oak Hill left several players behind because of rumors of an escape plot.

This time, Schiraldi promised all-out support. He paid staff overtime to provide extra security, and he invited the players' families, attorneys and judges to attend the game.

"These kids get goodies from crime," Schiraldi said. "Crime comes with money. It comes with prestige. Unfortunately, it comes with respect. We can't just tell them, 'Don't do that.' We have to say, 'Do this. Get your goodies from this.' And for some kids, that's going to be football."

Henderson thanked Schiraldi for his support and then wondered, privately, if a trip to Woodson might prove reckless. The fence around the Woodson field stood only three feet high, and parts of it had fallen. Woods shielded the back of the field and neighborhoods guarded the front -- both plausible escape routes.

"I can't really say," Henderson said, "but I'd guess it's 50-50 somebody tries to escape."