Page 122 of Every Move You Make

Chapter 45

Coach Johanssen 2.0

Robyn

As a pack, my team and I round the corner of the field for our last lap of warm-ups before practice officially begins. We have two weeks before our last game of the summer, and everyone is reenergized from our mid-season break, but I know there’s an undercurrent of doubt. It’s impossible to miss the hesitant looks from teammates who have been listening to our Outer Banks vacation stories with Isaiah. Toni, Skirt, Serwaa—everyone—has been gushing about how different he was when he finally let loose. But the players who weren’t there aren’t totally convinced, and I get it. It’s hard to envision such a serious man letting go.

Visions of him letting it all go in front of me and Dell just two nights ago play in my mind: him reading his mom’s thoughtful words and praises, him releasing emotions that I can only assume have been building behind his walled-off heart.

That side of him may only be for the two of us, and it’s okay if he wants to keep it that way. He has us now. He finally has a safe space with us.

As we finish up our last lap, Isaiah and Bob take the field to meet us on the fifty-yard line.

“Hi, everyone,” our coach waves. “Circle up and stretch out if you need to.”

Bob and Isaiah take a couple of spots between Casshole and Khaos, and for a moment, Zay locks in on me beforetaking a deep breath. Suddenly, I’m holding mine.

“I hope everyone had a nice break,” he says, crossing his arms and widening his stance. “I know I got to know many of you over that time, and I’m glad I did. I think you got to know me a little better too.”

“Hashtag Agony Nectar!” Khaos bellows, making everyone laugh, including those who weren’t there. Seriously, that video they took of us rocking out in the living room went viral.

He chuckles along with us, and his Adam’s apple bobs before taking another deep inhale. “Yes, long live Agony Nectar,” he says with an eye roll. “But over the break, I did some reflecting myself and realized I haven’t been coaching y’all the way I should have.”

Oh, damn. So, he’s just owning it, huh? He’s just going to flay himself and show everyone?

Look at my brave Little Noodle!

Isaiah scans the circle of players in various stretching positions before saying, “I want to apologize. I need to do a better job at earning your trust, and I want to listen to you more. I was coaching you the way I preferred to be coached, but you’re not me. I’m sorry, and I hope you can find it in your hearts to forgive me as we move forward.”

Ever the stoic one, Casshole speaks first in a low voice. “Thanks, Coach.”

“Yeah,” Khaos adds. “Unexpected, but,” they shrug dramatically and smile, “let’s move forward.”

With his shiny head and a mouthful of sunflower seeds, Bob speaks next. “Does anyone have any issues with the change?”

Toni raises her hand. “Are either of you concerned that a change in coaching style will set us back?”

“No,” he says. “It may do just that, but I think it’ll be worth it in the long run. We’re gonna do our best against Wales in two weeks, but in the meantime, it’s gonna be my missionto oil the machine you all have created.”

Who is this man? He didn’t tell me he was going to do any of this. Did something unlock in him? I want to tackle him to the ground and kiss him senseless.Oh, the urge. It tingles so good…

“Alright, let’s get started,” Bob claps, bringing me back to reality. “Backs with me, forwards with Coach Johanssen.”

As practice unfolds, I sense Dell had a heavy hand in the alterations to Isaiah’s coaching style, which immensely pleases me. As far as I can tell, three big changes have been made.

First, Isaiah is listening. Instead of coming in with brand-new plays, he asks us what has been working in the past and what hasn’t. For the plays that haven’t worked, he asks why we think so. We show him the wonky plays we could never seem to iron out, and only then, after listening to our ideas, does he suggest modifications.

Which then leads to change number two—he waits. Instead of us running a play as soon as we learn it or its modifications, he allows us the time to slow it down and walk it out. Each of us gets the chance to fully visualize and feel the cadence before going full-force.

The happyOhs andI get it nows came fluttering in like a welcome breeze as practice went on.

The third change has been just as monumental.

“Yes, Cass!” he barks when she correctly offloads the ball to her right-side support, just before taking a simulated tackle. “That’s it! Did everyone see Cass? That was perfect! Show them again.”

Praise flows out of him like a river. Even when things are dragging and he’s giving us the time to explore the plays, he’s encouraging. He doesn’t let out a disgruntled sigh when someone asks a repeat question. He doesn’t pinch the skin between his brows when a phase doesn’t work. He simply resets or gets in the mix to give anotherexample.

“Okay, team,” he announces, and there’s mischief in his eyes. “We have ten minutes left, and we’re gonna play a little game.”

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