Page 25 of Waiting for Her

He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. When he sees I’m not joking, he angrily stands up and stomps over to the sidelines where one of my trainers meets him.

“Now. Anyone else want to test me on how serious I am about respecting Bri?”

A chorus of “No, Coach,” is heard from the group, so I press on. “She’ll be talking to a few of you. I’ve already got a list gathered, so there’s no need to try to impress anyone now, trying to get your moment of fame. This isn’t the time to show off or puff out your chests. Be honest with her. If she doesn’t get a real story from us, she’ll get it from somewhere else. She already knows your stats, probably all the way back to when you played on your town’s flag football teams. Bri’s here to observe and get an inside look at the program.”

I feel eyes on me and chance a look at Bri whose focus is, in fact, trained in on me.

Apparently, I’m still in tune with her.

“Now. Get your asses back on the field. We have four weeks until we have our first game, and you guys look like shit.”

They trudge off without arguing and immediately I’m bombarded with questions from trainers, the other coaches, even a few players.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? We’ll have our time to talk. I’m with you for six weeks. For now, I’ll just observe, if that’s okay with you.”

Thirty minutes later I’ve addressed all the issues and I’m calling plays, standing next to Izaak. He’s an All-American linebacker with a heart of gold and is a strong leader on and off the field. Whether he wants the role or not, the rest of the team looks up to him. Looks to him for guidance on what their next steps should be.

He reminds me so much of myself, and while I don’t play favorites, he’s got what it takes to lead the team to a winning season.

He was a freshman on the team when I was an intern after my accident. Izaak was also the first player to reach out to me after it was announced I’d taken the head coach position.

“The new plays feel good?” I ask him.

“Yeah, Coach. I like it. I think the guys about have this one down,” he tells me.

I nod, happy he agrees, and that the other players are feeling it too.

When I began interning with the team, I started creating a playbook of my own, and now I get to incorporate the plays into my team. Hoping one day I’d be coaching, at the very least, a bunch of high school players. I could have never imagined I’d be standing on the same field I once thought was only a dream to play on, much less coach.

It’s surreal.

And I won’t take a single minute of it for granted.

Or let anyone distract me from my end goal.

Coach Bales had an amazing playbook—now I have the honor to add to it. And the play we’re working on now, perfecting as much as we can, it’s one I took from him and expanded on. Based on how this team is performing already, they’re going to take it and run with it.

The entire time I’ve been on the field, Bri’s been walking back and forth on the sidelines, taking it all in. A few times I’ve noticed her clap lightly when the boys had a good play.

Even my shirt is sticking to my back from sweat, so I know the boys are hot. I call for a water break after a few hours and the boys lumber to the sideline, heading to the water stations as the trainers and staff step up, making sure the boys who are playing through slight injuries have what they need. A few need ankles or shoulders looked at. Our backup quarterback already sprained a finger last week, which needs monitoring.

There’s always something, always an injury to watch for.

A kid who’s on the brink of self-destruction from the stress of competing at this level of college football, maintaining a good GPA, being constantly tempted to party or sleep with a different girl every night. As a young coach, I remember it all very well because it was my life not long ago. I saw it when I was coaching the freshman, but it’s not as intense as it is for upper classman. Coaching at the college level is systematic. There are expectations I must meet.

These guys aren’t freshman anymore, and I’m not their babysitter. It’s a hard thing, stepping down that way. Allowing the assistant coaches to take on that role so I can focus on what happens on the field.

I spent a lot of years much like Izaak. Leading the team, guiding their principles. Helping my friends make the right choices. When there were frat parties or whispers of hazing, I was the voice of reason. Not to say I was boring or a fun-hater, I participated plenty. But it was all about timing, knowing when to let loose and when to focus.

Now, I have to know what’s going on in their lives, but their performance on the field and in the classroom is my top priority. But as a young coach, I have a unique opportunity to continue to lead by example. What the players, do off the field is a direct reflection of the team and school, and it’s important they see that.

I’ll never forget the help my high school coach, Coach Mac, offered me when I was spiraling after I beat the shit out of Dawson. He took the lead, making sure the colleges that had been scouting me knew the whole story, all the while never missing a beat on making sure I fully understood what I did. I wouldn’t have changed a thing, of course. Dawson deserved every punch I hit him with, but he also taught me how to manage my temper and distinguish between, well… right and wrong.

“You’re kind of good at this, huh?” Bri says, coming to stand next to me.

Her compliment shouldn’t make my chest swell.

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