“That works, with your name being Grey and all.”
He grins. “I totally set that up, didn’t I?”
“Well, you’re an easy target.”
“I’m a quarterback—I make the targets.”
I drop my eyes to the big, fat white thirteen on my red jersey. “So am I.”
Again, Grey winks. “And you’re slow.”
As soon as the words are out of his mouth, his eyebrows shoot up and he takes off for the last lap, legs churning in full sprint. I chase after him, dodging past Jake and up toward where the spindly, fast wide receivers and cornerbacks are leading the way.
We finish the lap and, breathing hard, I take a knee next to Grey as orange jerseys fill in, forming a rough circle around Coach Lee, who’s standing in the mouth of the growling tiger at midfield. At his side are two assistant coaches—Coach Shanks and a reedy man who I assume is Coach Napolitano, the coach in charge of defense—and a couple of managers, including a girl with a long auburn ponytail. It’s not until she looks up from her clipboard that I realize I know that girl and her cat eyes.
Kelly Cleary.
Because of course the girl who drilled me with a sixty-mile-per-hour fastball on the worst night of my softball career would be present for my first practice as a football player.
Awesome.
Now I don’t just have to do damage control on Jake’s bad attitude, I have to deal with her and her eyeliner addiction, too.
Kelly’s busy counting us all, a single finger bopping to its own beat in the air as she ticks off each player.
When the linemen rumble in and join us, out of breath and red-faced, Coach Lee finally looks up from his clipboard. His assistants stare out at us in tandem, arms crossed.
“Hello, Tigers.”
“Hello, Coach,” the boys echo. I rush in a second too late, but manage to say “coach” with the group.
“Tigers, our first game is coming up fast.” He grins at our impending doom. “Good thing we have three more chances for two-a-days after today. That’s right, folks, you’re mine through the weekend.”
As at least one dummy grunts out a sigh, I realize it’s not just today and tomorrow I need Ryan to cover for me, it’s this weekend, too. As far as I know, he won’t be having two-a-days this weekend because tryouts are over and the team is announced Monday, and Dad and Mom are totally going to notice if I’m gone for huge chunks of the morningand afternoon without explanation. Which means the kid has to lie hard-core for me. It’s gonna cost me way more than a trip to Burger Fu, that’s for sure.
“That better be the only lily-pants whine I hear for the rest of today or every single one of you is going to run twenty laps in pads to end practice, instead of five.” Coach Lee might be small, but his voice is tough as nails. “Don’t care who whines—you’re a team, and you’ll take the punishment together.”
I could be imagining it, but I feel eyes on me again. I grit my teeth.
Sorry, boys, but you won’t be able to blame this girl.
Coach pauses for a second to confirm everyone will stay silent. Then, “Tigers, I’ve got a compliment for you, and you know I’m not big on those. No point in blowing hot air up your backsides if you’re just gonna get the wind knocked out of you on the next play.”
Danielle would love Coach Lee.
“You kids have worked your tails off so far this preseason. Drive, focus, and determination have been high. Maybe the highest I’ve seen this side of the year 2000.”
A crack of energy shoots through the manly glob of bodies surrounding me, though no one is dumb enough to beg a high five or even so much as whisper excitedly. But the thrill is there, the hairs on everyone’s arms standing at attention.
“Will that translate to a winning record?” Coach shrugshis narrow shoulders, hands raised toward the sky. “That’s up to you.”
And it is. In softball and in football, the only control you have is how prepared you are. Everything else is in the hands of chance. And chance only sides with you if you worked for it more than the other guy.
Danielle might have been the first one to teach me that, but it’s a lesson I’ve had reinforced over and over.
“Would you like one more piece of motivation, Tigers?”
As a fifty-headed beast, we nod.
