“Definitely. It’s been nice getting to know some of the guys in advance. I’m ready for some real play now.”
“It’s more of a walk-through than a scrimmage, but you’ll learn a ton.”
We don’t wear pads for OTAs, and it’s no contact, but they’ll start getting us up to speed on the plays.
“Just listen to Johnson and the coaches, and you’ll be all right.” Landon might mean well, but it’s irritating he says that like I might mess this up.
“I’m not nervous. The football field is the one place I’m guaranteed to do everyone proud.”
He shakes his head. “I didn’t mean it that way, Rawls.”
“Whatever. I’m going to head to the facility for training. Grover’s been walked so he’s good for a bit.” I try to keep my irritation out of my voice. I’m not looking to fight with him.
“Okay, thanks. I’m going to crash, catch up on sleep before tomorrow.”
We go our separate ways.
By the time we’re driving to the OTA the next morning, I’ve forgotten what Landon even said to annoy me.
That’s our relationship though. We go back and forth at each other, and then the emotions underlying the bickering wash away until the next conflict comes up.
He’s been more of a dad to me than our real one, and I fight hard not to feel resentful when he tries to play that role when I don’t need it.
At the same time, now that I’m here in Orlando, I kind of wish he would see me as a brother only.
As a teammate, a man…anequal?
This is the first time that exact word—equal—has crossed my mind. I’ve been living with him now for six weeks, since the draft, so maybe that’s what’s kicked up these thoughts?
Whatever the reason, as I look out the window while the miles on the highway click by, it’s an ah-ha moment.
I twist my head toward Landon, who’s in the driver’s seat. Should I say something to him?
No, not now.Not on the way to our first full team activity for the season.
Still, I feel something shift in me.
And it’s a heavy moment, one I don’t know quite what to do with yet.
As we pull into the facility, I force myself to shake off that uncertainty. Time to get focused on football.
The three days of this first OTA session should be fun, for the most part. It’ll involve lots of bonding, getting to know the whole wide receiver core, and starting to learn the playbook.
There’s still pressure though. It turns out the preseason wide receiver group is twelve strong, which feels a little stressful. Cuts through training camp will reduce that by half.
I’m supposed to be the number two wideout this season, worst case number three since I’m a rookie. I won’t lie, I’msweating a bit when all we’re doing is a lot of talking the first couple hours.
But once we start physical activities, I feel better. Bailey and I are neck and neck in terms of our sprint speeds, with everyone else noticeably a step or more slower. And during the catching drills, I drop the least out of anyone.
“Let’s fucking go, Battle,” Bailey calls to me as we wrap up the first day. “This season is going to be a good time.”
To someone who doesn’t know football, it may seem odd that he’s excited about me shining during drills.
But the better I am, the harder it will be for defenses to put all their best guys on him. Last year, he was eventripleteamed sometimes. Our opponents won’t be able to commit those resources to him if I’m a threat.
On the second day, my confidence grows again when we start walk-throughs on the offensive side. Within two sequences, they pull me from the second team to the starters, and I get to go through the plays with Johnson, Bailey, and the rest of the key players directly.
It feels good, and thankfully, comfortable.
