Page 107 of Scored

Dijon replied, “Coach said that the Eagles’ defense is like the Texans’. Same defense, different team.”

“The fucking Texans,” Troy said, “shut down my passing game in the second half. Their coverage was suffocating.” He looked at our wide receivers. “Seriously, it was like they knew your routes.”

“They did,” I said. “Their coaches studied the first half and made the right adjustments.”

“So, we study the Eagles’ defense. And Coach Brown and the defense study their offense,” Troy said.

“Yeah.” Positive affirmations came from around the table. “We can do it.”

“Did you all see the email?” Treshawn asked. “We’re flying to LA on Saturday. Also, we each get two tickets and can buy more. My wife is excited about flying on a chartered plane.”

“Is she excited about not seeing you for a week?” Jackson asked.

“A week?”

Josh Jackson nodded. “My first year with the Bucs. It was different because the Super Bowl was at Raymond James Stadium, a real home team game. Yeah, but the week before the game, the players are in one hotel, and the families are in another. My wife told me about all the cool stuff the Bucs planned for the families. Seeing their player wasn’t one of them.”

“A week,” I said. So much for only one more night away from Vee.

“You might get to see Ms. Maeve,” Troy said.

“Maybe in passing. She’s not going to be sightseeing around Los Angeles. She was looking up what the next two weeks would entail last night. The executives may not be practicing with us, but they’re working their asses off.”

“Let’s get cozy, gentlemen,” Troy said. “We’re going to have even more together time.” His smile grew. “And it will all be worth it when we win, bring home the Vince Lombardi Trophy, and cash those bonus checks.”

That earned a table filled with ‘oh yeah.’

“Hey, Josh and Troy,” I said. “Let Garcia know I’m with the trainers for an MRI, if I’m late to the position meeting.”

“Will do,” Jackson said.

I was getting all too familiar with the MRI procedure. Out of my street clothes and wearing a styling hospital gown, I lay flat on my back on the scanner bed with my left arm at my side, palm up.

“How are you doing, Fin?” Kristina, the MRI technologist, asked with a grin. “You just couldn’t resist coming back to see me.”

Looking up, I smiled. “Don’t you know it. I asked to come last week, but I think Lacy is jealous of the time we’re spending together.”

She shook her head. Placing foam cushions around my left shoulder and arm. “I love the bullshit you like to sling. Here are your headphones to muffle the noise.” She placed the noise-canceling headphones over my ears.

Next, Kristina placed a heavy, padded plastic thing she called a coil directly over my shoulder. “You know the routine. This procedure will take between fifteen and twenty minutes.”

“I thought I signed up for the faster MRI.”

Ignoring my humor, Kristina stepped back. “Are you ready?”

Staring upward, I replied, “Yes.”

“Remember, absolutely no moving.”

I agreed. As I did, the scanning bed shifted slightly to the right. After an earlier MRI, Kristina explained that the shift was to center my left shoulder in the tube. The bed then moved into the large tube. The first MRI after my dislocated shoulder involved an injection of dye, with some numbing shit first. I didn’t miss that part.

The headphones didn’t completely cancel the array of noises. Although the series of thumps and clicks were muffled, they were still loud. While I needed to remain still, there was no need to hold my breath. Although, when in a noisy large tube, I had to remind myself to breathe.

When it was over, I dressed.

“Come back this afternoon,” Kristina said. “We’ll have the results.”

“I can’t wait.” I’d already been cleared to play and practice. For once, I wasn’t worried about the findings.