Moving the Chains at Oak Hill

On Nov. 7, Henderson gathered his players in the gymnasium at about noon. The Oak Hill staff brought out two cardboard boxes filled with shackles, and they restrained the teenagers one at a time. For many of the players, shackling had become routine during transportation to court. In the gym, one player jokingly tried to jog with a chain around his ankles. Another attempted -- and failed -- to catch a football between his tight handcuffs.

Almost 30 staffers boarded the bus for Woodson, and others tried to sneak on to escape a regular afternoon at work. The staffers joked and laughed for 40 minutes, begging the driver to stop for lunch at a fast-food restaurant. But Tyrone Johnson, head of security, demanded their attention when he stepped to the front of the bus as it approached Woodson.

"I can't think of a worse place for us to play," Johnson said to the staff. "This whole field is a hazard. I'm going to have every one of you keeping watch from a different spot on the perimeter. And I don't care if it's rain, shine, snow or hail. You stay in your spot."

'Prison Ball, Baby'

Woodson resembled a crime scene. Three police cars sat on the track, with their lights flashing. Oak Hill officers surrounded the field, some of them dressed like spectators as a disguise. Allen Chin, the DCIAA's executive director, paced behind a goalpost. "Usually, for a JV game, I don't even notify school security," Chin said. "Now we've got 50 people securing this place."

The Tigers fell behind 8-6 in part because players suffered from sensory overload. Terrell stared at teenage girls in the stands and looked into the neighborhood to point out friends' houses. Meanwhile, the offense fumbled three times and defensive backs slipped in the mud.

Late in the second half, the magnetic pull of a close game provided its own escape. The staff -- even those undercover -- crept closer to the field. Oak Hill, still trailing by two, drove 60 yards downfield on its last possession. With two seconds left and the ball on the 6-yard line, Henderson called timeout. "Let's bust it up the middle with Terrell," Henderson said. But Terrell had other advice: That's what they're expecting, he said. Let's mix it up.

Henderson called a trick play. His quarterback pitched the ball to the tight end, who then passed to a wide receiver standing wide open in the end zone for the winning touchdown. Correction officers rushed onto the field. Oak Hill players shoved and tackled each other in an impromptu mosh pit. "That's prison ball, baby," Terrell yelled. "That's how we do it down at Oak Hill."

The Tigers would exult again after an easier win in the DCIAA title game a week later. But their semifinal celebration was a burst of euphoria -- and it lasted less than a minute.

Johnson, the head of security, herded players back to their vans. He pulled out the boxes of ankle cuffs. Henderson watched as an officer shackled Terrell.

"Come on, man," Terrell said. "You still don't trust me?"

"It's not about that," Henderson said. "I don't want to do this. I'd like to go hang out, take you guys for pizza. But there isn't any choice."