Page 61 of Necessary Roughness

He thought Jordan would decide she didn’t want to buy the PT clinic after all and would follow him to Atlanta. It had taken a few weeks now to get it through his thick head: Why should she have to give up her life’s goals for him if he’d already shown he wasn’t willing to do the same for her?

***

ANOTHER WEEK PASSED at the speed of light. On an unbelievably warm Thursday morning, Tanner boarded the team’s jet for the trip to this week’s preseason game location. If Atlanta’s heat was its own circle of hell, Jacksonville was worse. He still hadn’t acclimated from Seattle. Even more, he had had a grand total of less than an hour FaceTiming with Jordan for the week. His work schedule was so nuts he had no time for anything more than takeout at the end of his day.

He’d spent the past several days working with “his” group of offensive tackles. The high draft pick the team had their hopes on was talented as hell but a nightmare personally. Todd Kaufmann already had been arrested a couple of times in college, had a DUI shortly after the draft, and escaped a domestic violence charge by the skin of his teeth. One of the other guys wasn’t drafted and got invited to training camp by Tanner’s boss; the coaching staff realized Kendrick Johnson didn’t have Todd’s raw talent, but he worked his ass off, stayed out of trouble, and took nothing for granted on the field or anyplace else. The other two guys were lower-round draft picks, one of whom would probably end up on the team’s practice squad during the season.

Tanner’s boss, Steve, sat down next to him. “I’ve been watching Kaufmann’s film. Did you see anything different at all yesterday out of him?”

“No. He’s good, but he doesn’t want to put the work in to be great. He thinks he already has it made.”

“How was your first training camp?” Steve joked.

“The vets were busting my chops at every opportunity. I knew I’d better work my ass off or I was going home to get a job.” Tanner let out a breath. “Johnson, on the other hand, has All-Pro written all over him.”

“What makes you say that?”

“He works twice as hard already. I’ve seen him do another round of lifting after dinner when the other guys are playing video games. I think he likes to have fun too, but he’s already doing what he has to, to stand out from the other guys.”

The plane’s engines revved for takeoff.

“You know we really can’t bet,” Steve said.

“Yeah.”

“A beer says you’re right. I’m going to tell Johnson he’s playing during most of the second half tomorrow. Let’s see what the rookie’s got.”

Twenty-four hours later, Tanner steeled himself to walk out onto the sidelines of the first football game he wasn’t playing in. He’d spent the day with the coaching staff working on the game plan and doing a walk-through with the players. He was fine until he put on the assistant coach’s “uniform” of team merchandise, khakis, and cross-trainers. It wasn’t nerves. He remembered the hundreds of times in the past he’d run out onto a football field to a cheering stadium, feeling the adrenaline surge and the anticipation of a win.

He felt the vibration of the text function on his phone go off. If he pulled the phone out of his pocket, the team would get fined. He’d have to take a look at halftime.

His life wasn’t going to be the same. No matter how hard he tried to tell himself that he was still part of it, it didn’t matter he wasn’t an active player anymore, and he could have a great and meaningful future helping other guys achieve, he’d be spending each game wishing things could be different. He took his place next to the other assistant coaches and forced a smile onto his face. The guys weren’t going to be introduced here. They ran out of the tunnel to a deafening amount of booing.

At least that part hadn’t changed.

Steve glanced at the cane Tanner still used. “Take it easy tonight,” he said. “Don’t be a hero.”

“I’ll do that.”

“One more thing. We’re giving the guys tomorrow and Sunday off. Maybe you should take tomorrow off too. It’s a lot of flying, but they do have planes now that go to Seattle.”

“They do,” he said.

“I have no idea if there’s a red-eye tonight, but I’ll pretend like I have no idea what you’re planning if you decide to take one. Be back by Monday morning.”

“What about the game recap?”

“I’ll catch you up. It’s not a lot of time, but you’ll make it count.”

Steve slapped him on the back and moved away.

***

TANNER DECIDED HIS chances of getting an early morning flight from Atlanta were a lot better than they were from Jacksonville. He flew back with the team. They’d beaten Jacksonville handily, 25–3. He’d managed to distract himself from the hot, uncomfortable feelings that came up when he watched other guys playing their guts out in front of him by focusing on Kaufmann’s and Johnson’s play. The game was videotaped so the coaching staff could take a closer look on Sunday, but one thing was certain: Kaufmann might have been the more gifted player, but Johnson was the star. He’d be the coaching staff’s project this season. He’d be starting by next season.

He felt a shiver run up his spine when he watched the guy. Johnson seemed to have eyes in the back of his head. He knew where his quarterback was at all times and stopped the defense from getting to him. He didn’t give up one sack or QB hurry during the game. It was always great to have natural talent, but Johnson’s technique and command of his position had been taught. If he could learn those skills, the sky was the limit for him as far as ability to be coached. Tanner could hear Kaufmann complaining to anyone who would listen that he wasn’t happy he hadn’t gotten more playing time in the game.

“It’s not fair.”

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