Page 81 of Best Year Ever
We all stay quiet, knowing that talking will only be poking the bear with Bruce.
“Now, since Washington is our opponent in the first game, we’re going to use them for a test case of what we’re going to do differently this year,” Bruce says.
He next gives a mix of formation tweaks, positional pointers, and motivational words.
The guys actually love Bruce, his direct talk, his passion. I can feel the energy rising in the room as everyone gets fired up.
There’s also a ton of talent on our roster, and we know it. We just need to execute.
As the meeting breaks up, I see a couple of the other linebackers chatting in the hallway. Manny Lachance, our rookie at the position and a top draft pick, and Chad, who, at thirty, is starting his eighth season.
“Hey Landon,” Chad says as I approach. “You ready to run through some walls after that meeting? Bruce was in special form.”
I laugh. “Or at least ready to tackle Mason. Sucked to get called out like that, even if I deserved it.” I turn to Manny. “You ready for camp, Rook?”
Manny seems like a positive addition so far. Eager to learn, low ego, maybe a little nervous but that’s to be expected. With his ridiculous speed in the lineup, we’ll be freed up to maximize our positioning while we chase down quarterbacks and shut down running plays. It’s gonna be fun.
“Think so,” Manny responds. “My mom packed my bags, so I don’t even know what’s in them.”
Chad and I look at each other, chuckling. Remembering what it’s like being twenty and going to our first camp.
“You’ll be alright,” Chad says. “We’ll be at a hotel, so it’s not exactly hard to get anything you forget.”
I study Chad, once again stepping in to reassure a rookie, like he did for me three years ago. The shitty thing is that he’s on the bubble of getting cut, because we drafted Manny. Chad’s always been a middle of the road player, a locker room guy, steady. But thirty-year-old legs aren’t twenty-year-old legs. He’s going to have to prove himself again at camp.
That’s pro football for you. Chad knows it too, and good guy that he is, it doesn’t change how he treats people.
I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket and check who's calling me.
It’s Mom.Huh.
“Hey, I need to take this call,” I say to the guys, and step into an empty office off the hallway.
By the time I get situated, her call has gone to voicemail. Looking at my phone, I see my dad has texted too.
DAD: Connor got bad news from the national team. Can you give him a call?
Shit.
A notification of my mom’s voice message pops up, along with a transcription.
“Hey Landon, sorry to bug you with this, but Connor got word that they aren’t going to keep him on the roster for the U19 team, at least for now. He’s really upset, and I know you will do a better job at reassuring him than your father or I could. Can you try to connect with him?”
Typical of our parents that it’s my “job” to help Connor through this, not theirs.
Connor’s going to be wrecked by being dropped. I go straight to calling him. I’ll respond to Mom and Dad later.
When he picks up, a pained “Hey” comes out.
“Hey Con, I heard. I’m sorry, kid.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t even know what to say. I mean, I knew we had a lot of awesome center mids my year, but I thought I’d at least be able to come off the bench.”
Center midfielder is Connor’s position, and arguably the most demanding one in soccer because you must have all-around skills, offensive and defensive. A typical Battle decision to pick the most challenging role.
“That’s tough. Did they give you any feedback?”
Connor sighs. “Only that it’s still possible they’ll need me down the road. I don’t know. Now that I’m going to be at Princeton, I think I might just focus on the college team.”
