Page 16 of Playing It Forward

He rubs a hand over his jaw. “It can’t be ten. I set my alarm for 9:45.” He finishes with a yawn.

I shove my watch in his face. “It’s ten. Get your ass moving.”

He starts to shut the door but I stick my foot in the door jamb to stop him.

“What are you doing?”

“As if I trust you.”

He clutches his chest. “You hurt me.”

“Knock it off. You have thirty seconds to get ready before I haul you downstairs the way you are.”

He waggles his eyebrows. “I should have slept naked today.”

I groan. He’s not joking. He’d parade around naked at the resort if we let him. Ask me sometime about when he streaked through the downtown of our rival’s city.

“You have thirty seconds. Hurry up.”

“Thirty seconds. I need thirty seconds to brush my teeth.”

“Thirty. Twenty-nine. Twenty-eight…”

“Fine.” He sprints into the bedroom.

“Five. Four…”

He reappears. “Enough with the counting! I’m ready.”

I herd him out the door and down the hallway. He aims for the elevators but I elbow him. “Stairs.”

“Who died and made you my leader?”

“Quarterback Berg.” He was the quarterback before me. When he retired, I took over.

“Whatever,” Tanner mumbles.

When we arrive back at the conference room, Coach Knox is already standing at the front of the room. He frowns at me.

I point to Tanner. “Had to pick up a straggler.”

He nods before beginning.

“Nobody in this room wants to watch this film again. Including me. Especially me.” Knox plants his hands on the table at the front of the room. “But if you want to become champions, you don’t hide from the ugly stuff. You learn from it.”

Silence settles over the meeting room.

“We were favored to win the playoff game. Hell, people were already printing Super Bowl predictions with the Seals logo on them. And then we walked onto the field and played soft, sloppy, and selfish football.”

His gaze sweeps across the room. I cringe. I got sacked and threw an interception during the playoff game. Not my best performance. My shoulder aches as a reminder, but I ignore the urge to rub it.

“This film isn’t punishment. It’s a reminder. Talent means nothing if you don’t execute when it matters. Nobody in this room gets a free pass. Not the rookies. Not the veterans. Not the coaches.”

He nods toward the screen.

“Watch the mistakes. Own them. Then decide whether you’re willing to do what it takes to make sure this never happens again.”

“Someone get the lights.”