Page 8 of Keeping Busy
When we got to the building, I followed him through the facility and out to the back where they had a mini version of a football field set-up. The kids looked to be running plays, while a coach stood on the sidelines and called out instructions. The coach spotted Maddox right away, blew into his whistle and directed the kids to “take a quick five.”
“Coach Mayhew.” The guy said approaching us, his long legs making quick work of the distance.
Maddox slapped his hand. “What’s up, Coach Ron?”
“Everything’s good. The kids have been crushing those plays you showed them earlier this week.”
“Good.” Maddox nodded his handsome head. “Did the photographer make it?”
“Yeah, he’s setting up. I was waiting for you to get here. He said that there’s some paperwork that he needs you to complete.”
“Paperwork?” Maddox’s handsome face clouded over with confusion.
“Yeah.” Coach Ron was clearly unsure.
“Where’s he at?” As an after-thought, he turned to me. “I’ll be right back.”
Coach Ron and Maddox left me standing there while they went to find the problematic photographer. I walked down the sidelines and joined the young athletes at their bench.
“Who are you?” One little boy asked me. He had skin the color of graham crackers, big brown eyes, chiseled cheekbones, a very fresh low fade (like his mama knew it was picture day in advance) and a cocky demeanor. I could tell right away that he was going to be a problem for some lovestruck little girl in the future.
“I’m just visiting.” I told him.
“Okay, because we don’t have any girls on this team.”
I looked around, realizing that he was right. “Well, why not?”
He shrugged his slim shoulders. “I don’t know. But my last team had girls, and my pops pulled me off that team. Said I couldn’t get the training I needed, if they had to dumb it down to include girls.”
So, I knew right away that I didn’t like his pops.
“There’s nothing wrong with girls.” I told him.
“And definitely not with you.” A different little guy said to me, coming around the bench to get in my face. “I’m Jaylen.” He smiled, showing me the cleft in his smooth chocolate brown chin.
I wanted to shake my head, because this had to be a team filled with future problem-starters for the female persuasion of their age group.
“I’m Coach Mecca.”
“Coach Mecca?” The first little boy questioned. “I thought you said you were just visiting.”
“I am. But that doesn’t make me less of a coach.”
“And you coach football?” Jaylen asked, still grinning at me, like he had confidence that he was going to actually pull me.
“I do not coach football.” I admitted. “But I do coach athletes.”
“What kind of athletes?” Another little guy asked.
“Talented ones.”
“Can your athletes catch a pass?” Jaylen asked.
I shrugged my shoulders. “Depends on whose throwing it.”
“Canyoucatch a pass?”
“You the quarterback?”
