Travis Starnes
patreon
Second Down - Chapter 12
🕑 Added 2024-11-25 17:00:10 +0000 UTCMonday, things were peaceful for most of the day. Sure, there were the dirty looks from Elijah, but that had become almost standard by now. The only thing missing was Jamal. He’d been in a splint on Friday after that bad hit he took at the game, but he’d said his parents were taking him to Midland this morning to the hospital to get it looked at further. Apparently, the doctor was worried about ligament damage and they’d need to run better tests with the equipment they had there.
I hoped that wasn’t it. A break he could recover from. Yeah, he’d maybe miss this year, but he’d still have three more years to play and develop, which was enough to get recruited into a college program. Tearing a ligament or tendon would mean surgeries and maybe end his football career, which would make it a lot harder to get into a good school.
That was the reality for a lot of people out here. Unless you owned oil leases, which were mostly owned by big companies these days, there wasn’t a lot of money in West Texas, and college was expensive. A lot of guys needed that full ride, or even a partial one, to get their college degree.
I know we did. There was no way Dad could afford to send me to anything other than community college or a trade school on his salary. So yeah, a break was the best-case scenario for Jamal. I couldn’t help feeling guilty about it. I’d decided to break from Elijah and started this feud, and he’d been caught in the middle of it. It really wasn’t fair, and it was kind of my fault.
We got our answer for what was going to happen that afternoon just after we got to the locker room and suited up. There was a commotion by the doors and we were all surprised to see Jamal hobbling in, getting greeted by the team. He was on crutches and in a cast, which at least suggested it wasn’t as bad as we all feared. That and he looked in high spirits.
I’m not sure I’d make it to the next practice or look quite as cheerful if I’d ruined my football career.
“How bad is it, man?” Miguel asked when he got over to us.
“Hairline fracture. They said I probably strained the tendons, but they couldn’t find any evidence of tearing or ripping,” Jamal said, easing himself onto the bench. “Doc says it should heal up alright, but I’ve got to take it easy for a while to let the bone and tendons mend.”
“Man, that is good news,” Tyrell said, slapping him on the back. “Damn, we were all so worried.”
“Yeah, me too,” Jamal said, laughing.
“So how long do they say you need to be in that thing?” I asked.
“Month and a half, maybe two.” Jamal shrugged.
He was taking it well, but I could see he was still a little disappointed. Two months and the season would be over for him.
“So, your season’s done.”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“Damn, that sucks,” Connor said.
We all got a little quiet at that. We felt bad for our friend, and it always hurt to lose someone like him off the team.
“Maybe next time you’ll learn to keep your head on a swivel, Washington,” Elijah said, laughing as he, Aidan, and Hunter walked past. “Or maybe you should take up dance. Put on some tap shoes. It’s what you people are better at.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I said, hopping up and getting in his stupid face.
“It means your girlfriend should be doing anything but playing football. He sucks, you suck, and none of you should be on the team. Or isn’t that clear enough, faggot.”
I could feel my face getting red and the edges of my vision blurring a bit. Everything I had in me wanted to choke the life out of him.
“Shut the fuck up, or he won’t be the only one in a cast!”
Elijah stepped right up to me, his chest bumping against mine. “Try it, Sims. I dare you.”
“Elijah,” Aidan said warningly, nodding toward the entrances to the locker room where Coach Wilson had just walked in.
Elijah’s eyes narrowed.
“Your time’s coming,” he said quietly before backing away toward his locker.
“Come on,” Miguel said, tugging at my arm. “He’s not worth it.”
I let Miguel pull me back to our side of the room but kept watching Elijah.
“Man, I thought it was us redheads who were supposed to be the hotheads, Blake,” Connor said with a smile. “Should we start collecting for your bail now, ya think?”
The other three looked at me, I guess seeing what my reaction would be. I really didn’t think of myself as a hothead, but goddamn, Elijah got under my skin.
“Like any of you could afford to bail me out,” I said with a small laugh to let them know it was okay.
The moment passed and the tension went out of everyone.
“I’m just saying, maybe we should get you some anger management classes before you do something stupid,” Connor said, grinning.
“Speaking of doing stupid things,” Tyrell chimed in, turning to Jamal, “I know you hate conditioning, but there are easier ways to get out of it. Hell, if you wanted out that bad, you could’ve asked me, I would have hurt you just enough to miss a few without missing the season.”
“Yeah, but this way I get to skip for months. Work smarter, not harder.”
“You know that’s against Tyrell’s religious beliefs,” Miguel said, which earned him a playful slug from Tyrell. “Plus you get a sweet new accessory. Very fashion-forward.”
“Oh yeah, all the ladies love a man in need of help. Going to do wonders for my social life,” Jamal said, pulling out a black Sharpie from his pocket. “Speaking of which, y’all need to sign this thing. Make it look proper.”
He held out the marker, and Miguel grabbed it first, scribbling something in Spanish that made Jamal raise his eyebrows.
“Man, I hope that’s not dirty,” Jamal said. “You know my dad knows Spanish, right?”
“Well, I guess you’ll have to wait till you get home to find out,” Miguel said, grinning.
Jamal’s parents were very religious and had a tendency to go a little overboard when it came to being ‘proper.’
The marker made its way around our little group, each guy adding their signature and maybe a few words. I didn’t join in right away, still a little out of sorts from the run-in with Elijah.
“Five minutes!” Coach Romero called out, sticking his head into the locker room.
The guys gave Jamal a few slaps on the back and said a few more things, and then hurried to get into their gear.
“I’m sorry,” I said, quiet enough for the rest of them not to hear.
Jamal looked up from examining Connor’s terrible attempt at drawing a football a little confused and said, “For what?”
“This is my fault. Jake and them, they’re out to get me, and you got caught in the middle because I was trying to get over on them.”
“Man, that’s the stupidest thing I’ve heard today. You forgot how this started? They had their sights set on me and the other guys from the jump. You stepped in and killed your friendship with them to protect us.”
“I shouldn’t have been friends with them in the first place.”
“Probably not, but standing up to them put a target on your back. You did that for us. You got nothing to apologize for.”
“Still…”
“Look,” Jamal cut me off, “they might’ve done this one way or another. Me and the guys, we appreciate what you did. Standing up for us wasn’t the easy choice. You want to feel guilty or whatever, that’s on you, but don’t do it on my account.”
“Okay. Well, I’m still sorry your leg got broken.”
“Yeah, it sucks,” Jamal said, holding out the Sharpie. “Now sign my damn cast so we can get to practice.”
I took the marker, considering what to write. Finally, I scrawled: ‘Get better soon. We need our running back back.’
“Real original.”
“Stick with the classics,” I said.
As we headed out to the field, walking slow enough so he didn’t have to push himself, I glared back at Elijah and the rest, who were always the last ones out of the locker room, I guess to try and show how important they were.
Jamal might be right, but this was now between me and Elijah, and I was going to get even with him for it.
Practice itself was brutal. Coach had run us hard on Friday after the loss, but it seemed like, after a weekend to think about how the game went, he was even more pissed, and he took it out on us on the practice field.
At one point, I even saw Coach Plummer go to talk to him, and Coach Heidemann yelled something, sending him back to running defense through the tires. I’d been busting my ass with up-downs at the moment and the rush of blood in my ears made it impossible to hear him, but whatever it was, it was serious because Coach Plumber was pissed.
Coach ran us ragged until people were throwing up in trash cans. Strangely, Elijah and the other four kept throwing me dirty looks like it was my fault, and not theirs for literally throwing the game. I think part of it was that the rest of the team not part of their little clique was pissed at Hunter, and Elijah by proxy.
Instead of their little plan to get the whole team against me, their plan had backfired and they’d gotten the team against them instead.
Jamal, the lucky son-of-a-bitch, got to sit on the bleachers, reading playbooks and watching us get our asses run off. I walked in with him back to the locker room, since it was hard to carry a play binder and use crutches at the same time, making us the last two in off the field.
“Blake. In my office!” Coach yelled as soon as we came in to the fieldhouse.
Jamal looked at me like I was on death row heading to the chair, taking the binder and tossing it to Miguel to set in his locker. I gave him a shrug and headed to the coach’s office.
As I followed Coach Heidemann into the office, he dropped the clipboard on his desk, letting out an exasperated puff of air.
“Close the door and sit.”
I did as he instructed and sat across from his desk while he circled around and dropped into his chair. I was trying to figure out what I’d done wrong. Not that I needed to do anything wrong myself for this to be my fault. He’d named me captain of the team, which meant what happened on the field was my responsibility.
Yes, I’d warned him about Elijah and the rest and told him this was going to happen, and he’d mostly ignored me, but that didn’t absolve me of the responsibility for the loss. I’d gone with the running play he’d called, even though we really only had Hunter to run it. I hadn’t called an audible, I hadn’t changed it up. When I put the ball into Hunter’s hands, that was ultimately on me.
I sat across from him and waited for the yelling to start.
Instead, he scrubbed his hands over his face and said, “What are we going to do about this team, Blake?”
I blinked. “What?”
He leaned forward, putting his elbows on his desk and said, “You busted your butt on Thursday. I can see that, as could everyone on the field. You got us close to winning, but the team … we’re not there. We’re not a unit. It’s costing us games.”
“I know.”
“You’re my captain, Blake. I want to hear your take? How do we fix it?”
He had to know what I was going to say. I mean, I’d already said it several times, and been shot down. Not just shot down. He’d made it very clear he didn’t want to hear my thoughts on the subject, so I wasn’t sure how to answer.
But … he was asking.
“You’re not gonna like what I have to say.”
“Try me anyway.”
“Some guys on the team...” I took a moment, choosing my words carefully. “They’re better than what they’ve been showing us on the field. They are hurting the team.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“They’re making mistakes on purpose. You had to have seen it and I’ve pointed it out to you. Not just bad playing. It’s … deliberate.”
Coach Heidemann pinched the bridge of his nose. “Blake, I can’t just cut players because they’re not getting along.”
“I’m not asking you to cut them,” I said. “Just bench the ones causing problems until they learn to play like a team.”
“Our backups aren’t as strong.”
“Not normally, no, but they’re better than the starters who are throwing plays on purpose. If we pick the right plays, focus on what works with who we have, we can win games. The guys we have might not be as talented, but they’ll actually try.”
“There are spots where we don’t have enough backups. With Jamal out, I can’t bench Hunter.”
At least saying that, it was clear he accepted who the troublemakers were.
“Then don’t. Keep Hunter, bench the rest. Coach, we’re oh and two. What we’re doing now isn’t working.”
“Blake…”
“You asked me for my thoughts, and these are my thoughts. Besides, if you don’t do something now, what message does that send? That it’s okay to let stuff off the field affect how we play? That throwing games is an option when you’re mad?” I leaned forward. “Is that really what you want the team thinking?”
“Why is this happening? Really happening?”
“Most of the team isn’t the problem. That’s why you don’t see this on defense as much. I’ve known Elijah and his crew most of my life. Until this year, I was just like them.”
“And?”
“They need to feel important. They do it by pushing others down. The new guys, the ones who didn’t play peewee or middle school with us, they were perfect targets. A chance to show everyone else who’s boss.”
“Okay, but you said they were trying to make you look bad by messing up plays. If you used to be their friend and were like them, how are you not one of my problem players?”
“Because I stepped in. I couldn’t stand by and watch Miguel and the others get bullied. They saw it as a betrayal. Now most of their anger’s focused on me instead. It’s stupid, but that’s what’s happening.”
Coach went quiet, staring at his desk. The clock on the wall ticked away seconds that felt like hours.
Finally, he looked up. “Give me a list. Players you think need benching. I’ll... consider it.”
The reckoning for my meeting with Coach Heidemann came the next day. We’d just made it out on the field when, instead of splitting into defense and offense to start warm-ups, Coach Heidemann called us up into the bleachers.
Everyone was joking and having a good time, happy to have a small break before the coach started working us again. They didn’t know what I knew. What coach was going to say.
I couldn’t help but steal a glance at Elijah. He was having a grand ol’ time, talking to Hunter and Mason, picking on Wayne Lowry, his backup wide receiver. They’d stopped teasing Miguel and the other walk-ons, and been forced to find new targets for their mocking. I’d like to think they’d backed off of my friends because of the resistance we’d put up, but I knew that was foolish.
They were still coming for us, but when they did, it wasn’t going to be teasing and banter. It was going to be serious. More so once coach finished what he was about to say. Elijah was going to know I was behind it.
Hell, even if I had not been behind it, he would have assumed and accused me of it anyway.
“Listen up,” Coach said, holding his clipboard. “After our first two games, we need to make some changes. We’ve come close, but we’re not finishing strong. Our offense isn’t where it needs to be to get past that last hurdle, so we’re going to shuffle around some of the positions, see if we can’t fix that.”
Elijah elbowed Gabriel, our backup QB who’d unfortunately been hanging around with Elijah and the rest of them lately. I could just imagine what Elijah was whispering in his ear, that I was taking his opportunity. That he’d be better suited to lead the team than me.
It was too bad. I actually liked Gabriel, even if he couldn’t throw a ball for shit. He’d started giving me the cold shoulder any time I tried to talk to him now. I wanted to tell him he was making a mistake, that Elijah wasn’t his friend. He only wanted to turn people against me. He was using Gabriel.
Elijah said one last thing to Gabriel and turned to look up at me, a smirk on his face, like he knew something. I could just imagine what he thought he knew.
He was going to be sorely disappointed.
“Since Jamal is out for the season, Bennet McCune, I’m going to put you in at halfback,” Coach said.
Bennet looked stunned and maybe just a little terrified. He normally played fullback, so halfback was a little different position, but we didn’t have a backup for that, so coach had to pull from somewhere, and it wasn’t like he was going to replace Hunter, who Bennet was normally the backup for. Actually, he should have seen it coming, since he was the next most obvious person to fill the spot.
“I know it’s not your usual position, but you’ve got the speed for it. I’m going to want you to put in extra hours with Jamal this week, learn the position inside and out. Think you can handle that?”
“Yes, sir,” Bennet said, trying to hide his smile and failing.
Sitting on the bench all year on the freshman team would guarantee riding the bench in JV, so this was his shot to show Coach Holloway that he had what it took to be moved to varsity, if not next year then his junior year.
Which was what mattered. None of the scouts were offering scholarships to guys on JV.
“Next up, Clarke Reeves, I’m moving you to starting at offensive tackle. Jake, you’re moving to second string.”
Jake’s mouth dropped open and he looked like someone had knocked the wind out of him. He looked to Elijah, like Elijah was going to do something to help him. Or maybe just wondering how it had gone so wrong. I knew those guys. Jake was a follower through and through. Elijah would have convinced him this would get him what he wanted.
Instead, he got the opposite. Jake was too dumb to actually blame Elijah for it, so he had to settle for shocked and pleading. Elijah just gave him a ‘just wait’ hand signal, like this was just a temporary setback.
He also shot me a look, not smug this time, but … calculating maybe. He was trying to read me, to see if I was smirking or somehow indicating that I’d just made that happen.
I didn’t move or make any expression at all, keeping my eyes focused on coach.
“Last change,” Coach said. “Wayne, you’ll be moving to first string for wide receiver and Elijah, I’m moving you to second string.”
Elijah’s head whipped around as he glared at me. He didn’t even bother trying to play it cool this time. I just kept my attention on coach. It hadn’t been a surprise who coach would put in for Elijah. Since the team was only freshman, we had a lot less depth than varsity or junior varsity, so most positions only had one backup player, and some had none at all.
This was where I had the most concerns. Bennett was fast enough to play Jamal’s position and Clark was big enough to play Jake’s, but Wayne had not wowed anyone in practice. He was fast and had good hands, but his head was not in the game a lot and he made a fair number of mistakes in practice.
I’d convinced coach that switching out Elijah was the only way we were going to win games, so if Wayne went and screwed it up, coach would blame me for it and probably never trust my judgment again.
“For now, those are our main changes. Nothing’s set in stone. We’ll see how practice goes this week and decide if these stick for Thursday’s game. After that, we’ll reevaluate based on performance. Alright, go get warmed up.”
As everyone started standing up, Elijah shoved his way toward me, probably wanting to threaten me again, since even he wasn’t dumb enough to start throwing punches out here in the open. I knew that was what he was going to do and didn’t want to deal with it, so as soon as coach released us, I was already moving.
“Wayne, Bennett, hold up a second,” I called out, deliberately turning my back on Elijah. “Listen, we need to make this work and this is your shot, so I’d like it if we could…”
“You think you’re real smart, don’t you?” Elijah cut in from behind me.
“…stay after practice the next few days and put in some extra work, to make sure you get the playtime on Thursday,” I said, continuing as if he hadn’t even spoken.
I did, however, turn slightly so he was in my peripheral vision. I could see him clenching his fist and was ready to jump out of the way if he lost control. Wayne didn’t seem to notice, but Bennett did, turning to look at Elijah concerned and taking his own small step so he was out of the way should something go down.
“Alternates!” Coach bellowed from the field. “Get over here and start your warm-ups!”
Elijah hesitated. For a second, I thought I’d misjudged it and he was going to take a swing anyway.
“Now, Garner!” Coach said again.
With a final murderous look at me, Elijah stalked off toward the practice field.
I waved Miguel and Hunter over. Hunter glanced between me and Elijah, clearly torn. Elijah was glaring at him now too, but Hunter must have done the math, he was one screw-up away from joining Elijah on second string.
“Okay. Let’s get to work.”
