Page 22 of Strong Side
Music is thumping through the speakers in the locker room, kicking up the adrenaline. We all have our own little rituals. Some guys bounce around the room, getting in each other’s faces, and other guys sit with their headphones on.
My specific routine is done at home before the game. Since I’ve been playing football—or at least when I realized I might have some actual talent—I’ve kept notebooks that have every play I’ve run. We have so many that we memorize for each season and each game. So, I like to write out all the offensive drills in my notebook so I can see it in my head. Sometimes, I just sketch out the plays I’m running, but occasionally, I add other scenarios and where I need to be during those plays. I havethree notebooks now here on campus with me. One for each season.
Beck’s locker is next to mine, and as always, he’s pretty quiet before games. He’s got his headphones on and bobbing his head to the beat of whatever he’s listening to. One of our athletic trainers, Sarah, is taping up his wrists.
“Can you wrap my ankles too?” he asks her.
“Yep, you got it.” She looks up at me, brows raised. “How are you doing, Casey? You need anything from me?”
I hold out my hands and circle my wrists. “Yeah, but let’s just do my ankles and my right wrist.”
She nods, then starts wrapping Beck’s ankles.
Neither of us has had any significant injuries over the years, but as offensive players who carry the ball, it’s smart to protect our wrists and ankles. I even have them tape over my shoes so they don’t get pulled off by defense trying to slow me down. It’s happened. Shoe came right off, and my ass had to keep running. I was lucky I stayed on my feet at all.
“Okay, Beck, you’re all set.” Sarah stands. “Your turn, King.”
I sit down on my bench in front of my locker and hold my leg out to her to start on my ankles first. “Can you go ahead and wrap around my shoes too?”
“Yep, no problem. You gonna get the ball today?” She looks up at me and smiles.
“That’s the plan, Sar. Run that baby all the way down the field.” I hold out my fist to Beck, who still has his headphones on, but he taps me anyway.
She finishes up my feet and moves to wrap my wrist. We make small talk while she works. She’s been with us since our freshman year, so she’s become part of the team in all the ways that count.
When she’s finished, she stands and pats my shoulder. “Good luck today.”
“Sarrrrahhhh!” someone across the locker room calls for her.
I smile and nod. “Thanks. Maybe we’ll see you at the neon party at Schuster and Smith’s.”
“Ha! Maybe, but not likely.” She smiles and grabs her kit.
We’re about twenty minutes to game time when Coach comes into the locker room.
“Okay, guys, let’s bring it in.” He holds up his hand and waves us toward him. “Today, we need to stay focused. We need to communicate and execute. Kansas runs a high-powered offense, but we’re better. Let’s get out there and show them what it takes to be a champion! Stallions on three.”
Our offensive coordinator is standing next to him and leads the count. “One, two, three, Stallions!”
“Stallions!” we collectively chant.
I walk back to my locker, Beck next to me. “You ready to go, man?” I ask him.
He nods. “I’m ready. You ready, King?”
“I’m ready!” I shout. “Let’s fucking go!”
We all walk out and make our way through the tunnel, where we listen to the roar of the crowd inside the stadium as we wait for the team to be called to the field. The band is playing, and the mascots are lined up and waiting.
It’s time to go.
When we run out, we go to the sidelines and drop our gear. I look into the stands to find my family, but I’m also looking for Noelle. She’s supposed to be sitting with my sister and her friends today. And I hope she’s wearing my jersey.
I spot my parents and wave, then move my gaze down their row to where my sister should be. They’re in the third row back, but I spot my sister and Noelle in the front row, waving to me. Beck passes by and heads straight to my sister. She leans over and kisses him.
When I get to them, Noelle has a soft smile on her face, cheeks slightly pink, wearing … my jersey.
“Hey,” I say, lifting my arm up to reach her hand.
