Jordan just went back to his stretches. “Dude, I got this. Don’t need to worry about me. Not at all.”
Nate hoped so. He really fucking hoped so.
The game began, and Nate took his spot on the defensive front four, hyperaware in a way he normally wasn’t of Jordan’s position behind him.
Obviously, he’d been keeping an eye on the rookie since the beginning of the season, but during a game, Sterling in his free safety spot had a much better vantage point to make sure Jordan was in position and taking care of his responsibilities.
But on the first snap, the right tackle locked Nate up, catching him off guard when he tried a move Nate hadn’t anticipated from the film he’d watched, and Saquon broke free from defensive containment, cutting quick and hitting open space.
Nate finally shucked the tackle and pivoted, to try to reach the play.
Goddamn it, Barkley was fucking fast. He was already ten yards down field and Nate wasn’t fast enough to catch him—though that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try.
Still, Nate’s stomach sank because while Jordan was currently closing the gap between him and Barkley with the burst of speed that had set him apart from the rest of last year’s linebacker draft class, he’d clearlynotbeen in a position to stop him right away.
Shit.
He did track him down, Nate reaching the pile about a second too late. Jordan popped up from tackling Barkley to the ground. He didn’t meet Nate’s eyes, and worry pinged deep down in Nate’s gut.
That had been easily a twenty-five-yard gash for Barkley. Not the way they’d wanted to start the game, that was for sure. Nate had lost count of the number of defensive meetings he’d been part of this week where they’d planned everything around the central plan ofdon’t let Barkley beat you on the ground.
Well, so far that was not working.
Sterling caught Nate’s arm before they got reset for the next play. “Atkinson was out of position,” he said under his breath.
“Yeah,” Nate agreed.
“I gotta talk to him.”
“He’ll adjust,” Nate said. Jordan could be stupid about a lot of things. But Nate had seen the high football IQ that he possessed. He’d eventually be able to run the defense, if he could get out of his own goddamn way.
But that was always the trouble, wasn’t it?
Sterling didn’t look convinced though. “If he doesn’t, I’ll talk to him,” he said.
Nate didn’t think that was a good idea, but he also wasn’t willing to correct Sterling mid-game. Besides, he didn’t think he’d have to. Jordan would adjust. He’d been playing well this year, if a little erratically. But that was to be expected for a rookie. He was still learning the ropes of the NFL. Nobody was ever perfect and definitely not during their first season.
Sure enough, on the next play, the Eagles handed the ball off to Barkley again—it was what Nate would have done, if he was in charge of the offense, considering the Thunder had just given up a big run play—and it was better, but still nearly a ten-yard gain.
This time, Nate shucked the right tackle off better, adjusting for the new move the guy tried, and he was actually the one who caught Barkley, tackling him to the turf.
Sterling’s hand was the one Nate grabbed to help lift himself up.
“I’m gonna,” Sterling said, but Nate shook his head.
Yeah, Jordan should’ve been there. He definitely should have been in a better position than Nate to make the tackle.
“Let me,” Nate said.
Sterling shot him a look.
“Just . . .I think it’ll go over better coming from me,” Nate said.
Sterling’s expression was still full of doubt, but he nodded.
There wasn’t time for Nate to say anything, because the Eagles were already getting set, and it didn’t matter anyway, because Hurts dropped back.
But before he could throw the ball, Duke was on his other side, eluding the tight end that was trying to block him, and a second later, Hurts was on the ground.
