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“Or Your Highness?” Deuce Stiles, our best safety, said.
“Have your fun. But it’s going to cost all you great wits when we start practice.”
“Wait,” quarterback Chris Tinelli said. “Aren’t you hanging with the wrong team?”
“Nope. I’m right where I’m supposed to be.”
I smiled. They had no idea how happy I was to see them today. The only place I really did feel safe—feelnormal,at least for the time being—was right here.
Davontae Lillis, star wide receiver, maybe the funniest kid on the team, stepped forward now.
“Okay, who should we fire first, the coach or the quarterback?”
“As you know, D, it would be a little complicated with this particular quarterback.”
“Straight up? Not if you want to win.”
He was right, but I didn’t tell him that.
“Hey, let’s pump the brakes here. I haven’t even decided if I want to do this.”
Carlos started banging his palm against the side of his helmet, as if he hadn’t heard correctly.
“Saywhat? Are you the only person in America whodoesn’twant to run their own NFL team?”
“Coach,” Chris said, “do you know how few women haveeverrun an NFL franchise?”
“Actually, I do.”
Davontae said, “Yougotto do this.”
“I don’tgotto do anything I don’twantto.”
“You’re saying youdon’twant to do this?” Deuce asked.
“What I’m saying is that I got a blind-side hit on this a couple of hours ago. I need a little time to make up my mind.”
“Let us make it up for you,” Carlos said.“Of course you’re doing this!”
“Can you get us one of those suites?” Davontae said.
“I’m gonna need one of those passes to go stand on the sideline,” Deuce said. “Hundred percent.”
“Locker room pass for me to go with it,” Carlos said. “Hang with my boys after the game. So I know how to act when I’m in the pros.”
He high-fived Davontae and Deuce.
“Why wouldn’t you do this?” Chris Tinelli said. “Your dad obviously wants you to do this or he wouldn’t have left you control of the team.”
Chris was one of those kids. He just looked the part of high school hero. I imagined this is what Ted Skyler was like when he was a senior in high school.
“I didn’t do what my dad wanted me to do when he was alive,” I said. “I’m getting my head wrapped around the idea that he still thinks he can tell me what to do.”
Chris grinned.
“Youlike to be the one tells people what to do.”
“Kind of.”
