Page 56 of Redemption
He’s right—we will, but I’m not worried about winning games. I’m worried about how I’m going to help these kids see that life is bigger than their time here on the football field—especially Tanner. The kid’s temper blazes hotter than a wildfire, and from what I can see, most of it stems from this game.
The locker room is quiet when we walk in, each boy brimming the tension of this loss. Tanner is on the other side of the room, sitting on the bench and refusing to look at anyone. His teammates are stripping off their pads. A few of them are grumbling about plays that didn’t work out during the game, but the others are content to remain quiet.
“Have a seat.” It’s a command. I’m not asking. I’ve reached my limit with these boys and their attitudes, and it’s changing tonight.
They must realize it because they all sit except for Tanner.
I turn toward him, fire licking through my veins.
“You get one more chance.” There’s ice in my voice.
“Or what? You’ll kick me off the team? You might have threatened it out there, but we both know you need me.”
My smile is cold as I take him in. I want to help him, but the first step in helping him is for him to realize that he isn’t invincible. Langston never learned that lesson until it was too late.
“I think you’ll find I don’t need you half as much as you need me. So take a seat or leave.”
His eyes burn with hatred—not just at me, but the world.
What has this kid gone through to make him so angry?
As much as I want to know the answer to that question, the only way I’ll ever get the truth is to build a relationship with him where he recognizes that I won’t cower from his attitude. As a cop, I’ve seen it time and time again. Sometimes, people just need boundaries they’ve never had set for them, and when they recognize they can’t push past those boundaries, their honesty comes out.
“Wait until I tell my stepdad about this. I’m sure your job is already in hot water with the loss tonight,” he smarts off but sits down anyway. And that’s really all I care about—baby steps.
Tanner’s glaring at me as he sits, and I maintain eye contact with him the whole time. Then I smile, making sure that it shows my teeth. “You’ll find, Tanner Sylvis, that I’m not half as scared of Eric Westbrook as he thinks I am. So go ahead—tell him. But at least for this season, this is my team, and you will do as I ask or go play for someone else. It’s that simple.”
I don’t bother watching him when I’m finished. I turn to the other boys, who have been watching the interaction with wide eyes. This right here is part of why I need to get things sorted out with Tanner. Whether he realizes it or not, he’s a leader for this team. The boys take their cues from him.
Is that why he’s so angry? Is the pressure too much for him like it was for Langston?
The thought hits me like a ton of bricks. The weight of a team can be heavy. Add on the pressure I saw from his stepdad at the board meeting, and that’s a lot for one kid to carry.
Mulling it over, I tap my clipboard against my leg. Campbell is standing beside me but hasn’t said a word. He’s giving me room to be the head coach of this team, and I appreciate that. But man, do I wish I had his ability to connect with people right about now.
He gives an imperceptible tilt of his head towards the boys, urging me to make some kind of speech that will raise their spirits, but everything I have to say right now seems minimal to the miles we still have to travel.
Frustrated, I drop my clipboard to the bench beside me.
“Boys—” I say, addressing them all. “That was ugly. Plain and simple—but not for the reasons you think. As your coach, I think I failed you before this game because I didn’t make my expectations clear, and for that, I apologize. But I’m going to make them clear now, so listen up. I don’t care if we win a game all season. That’s not what I’m here for. I know the talent that each of you possesses, but talent will only take you so far. My goal for you this year is to help you grow as men, and if that means we have to lose every game to do so—then so be it. Tonight’s game did not reflect the type of men you can be, but we’re going to change that. Your junior varsity players will play next week’s game and every other game until further notice. You want to play? Earn your spot.”
A cry of outrage resounds around the locker room.
One of the linemen jumps up from the bench. “That’s not fair. We’re seniors.”
I stare him down. “I don’t care what grade you’re in. As of right now, you are all benched. Earn it back. Prove to me you are worth being men on this team, and I don’t just mean at practice either.”
“Then how do you expect us to earn our spots?” Tanner asks.
“I’m so glad you asked, Tanner. This week, I have been in contact with your teachers. It seems that two weeks into school, and we are already goofing off. Many of you are skipping classes and not doing the work you’re asked to do. Add that to the grades you received last year, and let’s just say I’m not happy. So not only will I be watching your grades carefully, but I have people throughout the school who will be watching you—not just teachers. Learn to be men—leaders—in your school, and we will talk about your playing time. Until then, you are free to go.”
No one says anything as I walk toward my office in the corner of the locker room. It’s not until I’m about to close the door that I hear Tanner say, “Man, this is bull.”
It’s my final straw for tonight.
“Tanner—my office. Now.”
I don’t bother looking back to see if he obeys. Campbell posts up against the back wall, leaning his shoulder against it as I take a seat at my desk.
