Author: Matt Breen

Jayden Boyd texted a group of Northeast High School football players from his hospital bed in September.

“I got shot,” he wrote.

Jeremiah Tellus read it and thought the quarterback was playing a joke. A few hours later, Tellus saw his friend on a Zoom call as Boyd told the team what happened.

Some Northeast players were sleeping at an assistant coach’s house in Frankford so they wouldn’t be late to practice on Labor Day morning. They were playing video games when they heard gunfire around 1 a.m. outside on Adams Avenue.

Boyd dropped to the floor of the living room.

“Because, you know, that’s what people do,” Boyd said.

Police said several shots were fired through the living room window, and one struck the 17-year-old.

“People always say it feels like it’s burning,” Boyd said. “But I just felt like something went in me. I said, ‘I got shot.’”

Police rushed Boyd to Temple University Hospital, where a surgeon removed a bullet that fractured the quarterback’s spine. His football season, they figured, was finished. Doctors said it could have been worse.

“One more inch to the right, and I would’ve been paralyzed,” he said. “I try not to think about that.”

Boyd told his teammates in the morning that everything would be OK and reminded them to focus on their next game. He was recovering from a gunshot wound but was thinking about his team. He’s a true quarterback, his mother said.

Boyd returned to school three weeks later but missed Northeast’s next nine games and could only watch as the Vikings lost to Lincoln in the Public League playoffs.

“He kept saying, ‘I let my team down,’” said his mother, Bahisha Durbin. “I said, ‘You didn’t let anybody down. This is not your fault.’”

But Boyd’s season did not end that night in Frankford. Doctors told him last week that he can play again, clearing the quarterback in time to join his team for its Thanksgiving game against rival Central. On the night he was shot, the teenager underwent surgery to remove the bullet. He never lost the ability to walk. After he recovered, he underwent physical therapy at Children’s Hospital before he was cleared to play. Boyd practiced Monday afternoon, wearing shoulder pads for the first time in more than two months. It was surreal, he said.

And his teammates — guys like Tellus, who prayed that their teammate was still alive until he showed up on that Zoom call — could not believe it.

Boyd made it back for Thanksgiving.

“Thankful,” he said. “Thursday is going to be very emotional. I know we’re going to score when I’m in the game, so I’m probably going to shed a couple tears.”

Football brought joy

Durbin signed up her son to play football when he was 7 years old, hoping the sport would help his ADHD.

“It was a godsend,” she said. “It’s helped out so much. I can’t thank the coaches enough.”

Football soon became Boyd’s life. That’s all he cares about, his mother said.

“I’m, like, a physical person, so I wanted to be a part of that,” Boyd said. “It brought joy to my life.”

Boyd wanted to be a wide receiver like Odell Beckham Jr. but soon fell in love with playing quarterback. He spent his first two high school seasons at Archbishop Carroll before transferring to Northeast.

He leaves his home in South Philly each morning at 6:15 and takes two buses and a subway to get to school.

“He’s a great part of the team,” said Tellus, a running back. “He’s a great friend. He has great loyalty. He always has my back. He’s a great friend to have.”

Boyd dreamed of playing college ball and studying sports medicine. That felt impossible, though, after he was shot. Schools had been in touch with him, but Boyd knew he needed to show more on the field. His junior year was supposed to be his chance to display his talent as a dual-threat quarterback — “I can beat you with my arm and legs,” he said — and earn a college scholarship.

“Football was the last thought on my mind, but he doesn’t care about anything else,” Durbin said. “He was like, ‘Life is over because football is over and I can’t play.’ I said, ‘It’s OK, Jay. It’s not like your grades are messed up and that’s why you can’t play. You can’t play because you got shot.’ He’s just so passionate.”

Boyd was devastated to not play and soon became nervous in his own neighborhood. He spent weeks with a friend in Drexel Hill as the shooting made him afraid of being in Philly. Boyd figured if he couldn’t be safe playing video games, then where could he?

He had nightmares and flashbacks about that night on Adams Avenue and now meets with a therapist. His mother asked him if he wanted to switch schools. Boyd declined.

He wanted to stay at Northeast with coach Nick Lincoln, who was at Temple University Hospital that night and kept Boyd involved with the team while he was sidelined.

“It’s not something you necessarily prepare for when you get into coaching,” Lincoln said. “But being in Philly for about 15 years, I can’t say it’s the first time that something has occurred to my players off the field. It’s always disheartening and surprising. You just try to figure out how you can best support him and his family. We want these kids to use the sport to better themselves, become men in the community, and not become products of an environment.”

Reasons to be grateful

Durbin was sleeping when her son called that night.

“Usually, when Jayden is blowing my phone up it’s because he wants something from Wawa,” Durbin said. “I’m like, ‘I’m not giving this boy any more money.’ That’s usually what it is.”

So she didn’t answer. And then her other son ran into her bedroom to tell her what happened.

“I called Jay, and I was yelling at him,” Durbin said. “I hear him, but I don’t. It’s 1 o’clock in the morning, and we don’t play in the streets at 1 o’clock.

“I said, ‘What were you doing outside?’ He said he wasn’t outside. So I said, ‘How did you get shot?’”

Boyd told his mother the story, reminding her that he was sleeping at a coach’s house.

“He was loud but calm,” Durbin said. “That’s what helped me not get hysterical. Because he was calm. He didn’t call me screaming.”

She rushed to the hospital, fearful that her son would never walk again, and then was relieved to see he was OK. Durbin worried about the teammates who were there that night.

“I felt bad for the kids who had to watch and see it,” Durbin said. “These are good kids. They’re not in the hood doing crazy stuff. All these kids know is football. The one kid was shaking so bad because the coach was telling him to apply pressure on [Boyd’s] back. He was scared.”

Earlier this month, police arrested Nasir Johnson, 26, and charged him with aggravated assault, a firearms charge, and related offenses. Police said they had obtained surveillance footage of someone wearing blue jeans and a white T-shirt firing a gun on 4200 block of Griscom Street in the direction of the 1500 block of Adams Avenue, where Boyd was playing video games. Police said they recovered several items — including clothing that was consistent with what the suspect was wearing in the surveillance footage — when they arrested Johnson.

Lincoln called Boyd’s mother last week to say he wanted the quarterback to play a few snaps on Thanksgiving, just enough to give him a taste of being back on the field before next season. The series against Central, which dates to 1892, is said to be the nation’s oldest rivalry among public schools.

Boyd wasn’t able to show college coaches his promise this fall, but he still has another season of high school ball to prove himself. He can’t wait.

“We’re going to do something crazy next year,” he said.

His mother agreed to let him play Thursday but told the offensive line to “protect my baby.” She gave her son Psalms to recite before he takes the field, and she’ll be in the stands with an entire section of family and friends. Nearly three months after being shot, Boyd will be back on the field for one last game. His season is not finished.

“We’re just grateful,” Durbin said. “I’m grateful that he’s here. It’s Thanksgiving, for sure.”

It was Nick Lincoln’s first season at Northeast High School, so the football coach asked his athletic director last November if the Wooden Horse — the mahogany trophy carved nearly 80 years ago by a student — could be brought to the field on Thanksgiving morning for the annual game against Central.

The trophy, heavy and old, usually stays inside. But what good is the Wooden Horse if the players can’t hoist it after a win?

“Well, we had a little too much excitement,” Lincoln said.

The celebration ended, and the horse no longer had a tail.

“I said, ‘Dude, you’re going to get me fired,’” athletic director Phil Gormley said. “‘You’re going to be back coaching in Delaware, and I’m going to be bagging groceries at the Acme.’”

Northeast vs. Central is one of the longest-running rivalries in the country, but the Thanksgiving game is no longer the spectacle it once was. The halls of the schools don’t buzz in the weeks leading up to it, the parade down Cottman Avenue was canceled years ago, the bleachers aren’t filled, and the trophy is falling apart.

High school football in Philadelphia once meant as much to Thanksgiving as Santa Claus climbing into Gimbels. But traditions fade. Just 10 games are planned Thursday in Southeastern Pennsylvania, down from 28 in 2005. Thanksgiving games have faded for a variety of reasons: state playoffs, lack of competition, tepid attendance, and school closures.

But Northeast vs. Central — the schools say it’s the nation’s oldest rivalry among public schools — refuses to go away, even if the trophy is showing its age. The teams will meet again at 10:30 a.m. Thursday at Northeast.

“I don’t think the game will fade,” Gormley said. “It’s not attended like it used to be, but I know it’s still important to our alumni. When I talk to anyone who comes back for any reason, it’s always a question that eventually comes up. I think the game, for the foreseeable future, is OK. It’s certainly something that could happen, but thankfully it’s not something that will happen anytime too soon.”

A historic game

The schools first played in 1892 and started playing annually in 1896. The rivalry has paused only twice: in 1918 during World War I and 2020 during the pandemic. They’ve played through snow, rain, and muddy fields.

The rivalry was real, as the schools were just three miles apart: Central was at Broad and Green, and Northeast was at 8th and Lehigh. The trophy came along in 1947, when Northeast’s Spurgeon Smith, using only a kitchen paring knife, carved into a block of mahogany donated by Smythe Mahogany Company.

The games often were epic and packed. More than 15,000 fans saw Central beat Northeast in 1929 at the Baker Bowl, they played a muddy scoreless tie in 1971, and they’ve braved a few snowstorms.

Philadelphia had a full slate of high school football on Thanksgiving morning, and Northeast-Central was the game for years.

“Everyone is brought on board at Central knowing that Thanksgiving is against Northeast,” said Jeff Thomas, Central’s associate archivist. “No matter how good or bad the team is that year, that is the most important game. Very similar to Army-Navy. Both teams could be 1-6, but when they play each other, it’s the most important game.”

In 1986, current Central coach Rich Drayton scored five touchdowns as the Lancers ran up the score in a 60-3 win in front of 7,000 fans. Afterward, Northeast coach Harvey Schumer refused to shake hands with Central coach Bob Cullman, and the two had to be separated at midfield. Three years earlier, Northeast didn’t let up in a 42-point Thanksgiving win. So Central was returning the favor.

The rivalry was deep.

“Wherever you go wearing your Lancers stuff, people ask for your class number,” Drayton said. “The next thing they say is, ‘Are we going to win on Thanksgiving?’ It’s a really big deal. Hopefully, the student body can notice before it’s too late how important it is.”

Hanging on

The parade of antique cars and convertibles started near the Roosevelt Mall, traveled west on Cottman Avenue, turned right on Glendale Avenue, then finished with a lap around the track that circled Northeast’s football field.

The stands were filled as more than 6,000 fans came each Thanksgiving to see which school’s trophy case would hold the Wooden Horse.

But the parade ended about 15 years ago when the school district replaced the cinder track with rubber. Students no longer decorate the stadium like they once did, and the game now attracts between 600 and 800 fans instead of thousands.

Both schools have strong alumni groups, and former students still come out. It’s a chance to wear a letterman’s jacket, see old classmates, and tell the same stories.

“We have breakfast in the gym for alumni who come back,” Gormley said. “These old guys would be in there razzing each other. ‘Well, you lost to Central. I never lost to them.’ You know how guys talk. It’s funny to hear.”

But interest among current students is tepid. Both schools draw students from across the city, and getting to Northeast Philly on a holiday morning can be a challenge.

The game has become one-sided — Northeast last lost in 2013 — and a football game doesn’t mean what it once did. The high school experience at Northeast and Central is not defined by the football teams the way it was in the 1960s or 1970s.

“We have career day, and me and the other old guys come in,” Thomas said. “At the end of each class, we’ll ask them who’s going to the game. One hand raised. I’m like, ‘OK. Well, let’s beat Northeast.’ They’re like, ‘Huh?’ It’s gone full cycle to almost no care at all.”

St. Joseph’s Prep and La Salle High School stopped their Thanksgiving game in 2006. North Catholic and Frankford played their final game in 2009 before North closed seven months later. Father Judge and Lincoln canceled their annual game last year, and Neumann Goretti and Southern won’t play this year.

Thanksgiving games drop off the schedule every year. As interest drops, could Northeast-Central be next?

“No,” Thomas said. “Well, maybe. After, say, everyone who graduated before 1985 is gone.”

High school football’s regular season in Pennsylvania started a week before Labor Day and ended a week before Halloween. Central did not make the playoffs, and Northeast lost in the first round, so neither team has played a game in nearly four weeks.

The PIAA playoff schedule has ended other rivalries as schools are either playing this weekend in the state tournament — like La Salle — or have been dormant for too long to play on Thanksgiving.

Northeast and Central found a way to keep their teams together as they wait for Thanksgiving. The coaches could have walked away weeks ago when the season ended — they instead practice a few times a week and schedule time in the weight room. They want to give their kids another game.

“I would love to be playing a PIAA playoff game and have to forfeit,” Lincoln said. “But it’s another chance for our guys to play football.”

Lincoln held his breath last Thanksgiving before he found the Wooden Horse’s tail on the field. His first win against Central wasn’t spoiled by a horse’s rear.

Gormley took the Wooden Horse to a nearby trophy shop, which repaired the tail and added last year’s final score — Northeast 37, Central 21 — to the base before it was tucked safely into the trophy case. The Wooden Horse, just like the game it represented, refused to go away.

“I’m going to try to bring it out again,” Lincoln said. “Let’s see if the AD allows me to.”