“You should talk to Jonesy,” he suggested after practice in the elevator up to our floor.
The elevator dinged and we stepped out. I paused in the hallway. “Why would I talk to Jonesy?”
“Remember what I said about him being a football genius?” I nodded, recalling the conversation on my couch the day he’d gotten locked out. “Well, he might have some insight on the Bears and how they play. I know he talks to Coach Cal about some of the tape before games. He might have an idea about who you’ll be defending. Then you can watch some more of the tape.”
“You think that’ll help?”
Milo shrugged and pulled his keys from the pocket of his Scorpion branded sweats. “Couldn’t hurt. Might make you feel better.” He didn’t elaborate before he ducked into his condo.
I kept thinking about Milo’s advice all through the next practice. My eyes kept wandering over to Jonesy between drills and practices. Was Milo right about him? Could he have some kind of insight that could change the tides? I needed a win.
The team needed a win.
It was that fact alone that had me waiting for him outside of the locker room instead of rushing out and ordering a ride share the way I had after the last few practices. Jonesy was one of the last people to leave the locker room, and by pure luck, he wasn’t with Liam for once. I knew it was only because Coach Cal had dragged Liam away for press—the joys of being the starting quarterback—but I was choosing to take it as a positive sign.
I stepped out from where I’d been leaning against the wall and fell into step beside him. “Hey Jonesy.”
Jonesy turned and smiled at me, his honey brown eyes sparkling. “Rangecroft,” he greeted. His voice was as friendly as his face, and I could suddenly understand why he and Milo were the team’s social media darlings. “What can I do ya for?”
“Tobitt said you’re the man to talk to about insight to how the other team plays?”
There was no disguising the excitement in his voice, even as his eyes immediately focused on the conversation at hand. “What do you want to know?”
What did I want to know? How to beat them? But that was something the whole team wanted to know, and the only answer to that was to score more points. “You’ve watched their tape, right?” I questioned. He looked at me like I was an idiot for asking the most obvious question known to mankind. I would take that as an answer. I carded my fingers through my hair nervously. “Do you have any advice? Anything I could do to give us a better shot at winning?”
He thought for a moment and pulled out his phone. He hit a few buttons and then stopped, dragging his eyes back up to me. “Do you have plans right now?”
“No?”
“Good. You mind if I come over?” Once I gave the approval, he texted Liam to let him know where he was going and dragged me out to the parking lot.
Thirty minutes later, we were on my couch with film playing on my large screen television. He held the remote, and every few minutes, he would pause the tape and point out small details. I didn’t see how he saw some of the things he did. He noticed the way a player held his shoulders or the way he shifted his feet before he moved. He pointed out the average time the quarterback held the ball in the pocket.
He put a lot of focus on their running back.
“You think I’m going to be lined up against him?”
“A few times, yes. You’ll be against their tight end too, but I don’t have much on him. He’s a rookie, and I haven’t gotten a good read on him. Other than the fact that he’s got a killer strong arm but he’s weak in sticky coverage. That’s better forthe corners, not you.” He fast forwarded to show me what he was talking about with the tight end. I saw it immediately. He really was some kind of football genius. He rewound back to the running back. “He plays like Milo.”
I saw it once he said it. He had a lot of the same moves, making him hard to tackle. “Shit.”
“No, not shit,” Jonesy corrected as he tapped one of his light brown fingers against the remote. “Shit is for when things are hopeless. He plays a lot like Milo. He’s got some of the same tells as Milo, too. It’s in his hips.”
“In his hips?”
“Yeah,” he confirmed. He hit a few buttons on the remote to slow down the tape and hit play. “Watch the way his hips move before he does. He tries to keep his shoulders straight so no one can see his route before he takes off, but he angles his hips. Moves his toes just slightly too, but harder to see that behind two layers of football players.”
“How the fuck am I supposed to see his hips through that?” I questioned.
Jonesy shrugged. “Good point. Watch his eyes. He looks the other way. Milo does that shit, too. They went to the same university, so I’m wondering if that was something they were taught there. Misdirection or whatever.”
I laughed, and he paused and rewound again. We spent the next two hours watching video, and by the time Liam called to bitch at him for being out so late, I had a good idea of what I needed to do.
“Stay after with me.” The words were directed at Milo just as we entered the tunnel back into the locker room.
“What?”
“I talked to Jonesy, like you suggested,” I told him. “He suggested I work with you. Coach Cal didn’t put us together, so stay after with me.”
