Page 38 of Full Coverage (Boys of Fall)

Nolan was busy writing. “That’s kind of nice that Chuck became Tucker’s adopted grandpa.”

“Oh, no. No, no, no,” Randi said, straightening and shaking her head. “Coach found out that Chuck was betting on him, and he went over there one night and told Chuck to stay the fuck away from Tucker.”

Nolan’s head came up quickly. “What? Really? Why?”

“Chuck’s a drunk. Tucker’s dad was a drunk who beat his mom up. Coach didn’t want Chuck anywhere near Tucker.”

“And Chuck stayed away?”

“Oh yeah, no one messed with Coach, especially when he was protecting one of his boys.”

Nolan went back to writing.

Randi rested a hip against the front of Glen’s truck. “I don’t think Tucker even knows that, Nolan. You can’t write about it.”

“No, I won’t use any names or anything,” he said.

“What’s that got to do with football anyway?” she asked. “That’s not about the game.”

Nolan shook his head. “No, it’s not. It’s even better.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. This is about…the world around the field,” Nolan said. “The fact that so much was going on…it’s like there was this whole universe of stuff happening. The field was the center—the sun—but all of these worlds were turning around it.”

Randi watched him struggle to put words to the situation. But she got it. And he was right. She debated for a moment over what she was tempted to say, but finally she said, “You know those paddleball games? The ones with the wooden paddle and the ball tied to it on a string? You hit the ball out and away but it always snaps back?”

Nolan nodded.

“That’s what it seemed like to me. We were all these little balls, bouncing around, but tied to football. The home games snapped us all back, no matter how far out from it we got.”

Nolan just watched her for a minute. Then he said, “Can I quote you?”

She laughed and ducked her head back under the hood. “Oh, sure. Quote away.” It was a cheesy metaphor. She wasn’t good with words, but that was how she felt.

“So, we both know it’s fair to say that football ties this town together,” Nolan said.

“Definitely. It doesn’t matter how much money you make or where you live or where you go to church or who you voted for—when you’re in those stands, you’re a Titan. You wear black and silver and you root for the same thing and you’re…part of something bigger.”

She needed to stop talking. She sounded like an idiot. It was a football game. It was crazy to get so serious about agame.

But she did. They all did. Nolan might not get it, but everyone else who sat in those bleachers got it and would agree with her.

“And even though other things were going on in the stands and parking lot and at the concession stand, it was still all about the game,” she said. She needed to talk about other people. That way she could talk about the fandom but it wasn’t about her directly. He could think they were collectively nuts. Because they were. “Like the three little old ladies who make every game a drinking game.”

Nolan laughed. “Really?”

“Really. The youngest of them is eighty-six and they have no relatives playing anymore, but they come to every game and sneak their flasks in and play their game.”

“No one else knows?”

“Oh, everyone knows. They probably wouldn’t even have to hide the flasks anymore. They don’t drive—one of their daughters drops them off and picks them up—and they don’t cause any trouble, so no one tries to stop them. Plus they watch avidly. They have new rules each game. Like one game it might have been a drink every time Jackson got a first down or every time Wade punted farther than forty yards or something. Then the next game it would be new rules.”

Nolan was grinning. “How did you know?”

Randi shrugged. “I’m not sure. They were at every game. I think I started listening in on their conversations because they really knew what they were talking about.”

“And you were paying attention to them instead of the game?”

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