Page 26 of Make the Play
“Feeling good, Eddie. Feeling really good.” Jason stands all that much taller, breathing in the familiar scent of freshly mowed grass and ocean air. There’s few things Jason loves more than the combination of a fresh field and a sea breeze. It settles something in Jason as he closes his eyes and lets the wind ruffle his hair.
“I’m feeling good too,” Eddie replies, rubbing his hands together gleefully. “The twins are with their grandparents tonight for a sleepover and Amy is having a girls’ night. I’ve been looking forward to this game all summer. You think we’re ready?”
“The boys are ready,” Jason nods, as they head down to the field together, unable to stop smiling. There’s something so damn exciting about the first game of the season.
Right now, the stands and field are empty aside from Jason and Eddie, but soon they’ll be full. In less than an hour and a half, everything around them will change—teachers and students will flood the stands, packing them tight and filling the night with the low hum of excited bystanders. And sure, a lot of the staff and students don’t care about football, but they show up for the school, for the team, and that energy fuels on his boys to play harder.
It’s not just the people in the stands either, it’s everyone else who plays a part in game nights. From the band to the cheerleaders to the student council volunteers running the snack bar. Games nights remind Jason of what working as a team and most importantly, working hard can get you. There’s nothing quite like the energy of a home game. And while sometimes lackluster in terms of playing intensity, the season opener’s energy can’t be beat. Jason can’t fucking wait.
Sure, a summer spent relaxing and hanging out with his brothers, Theo and his dogs was great, but the truth is he’s happier during the school year. He loves being busy, watching his kids succeed and feeling a part of something.
“Matty’s already in the locker room,” Eddie offers, nudging Jason in the side harder than is strictly necessary. In turn, Jason messes up his hair. Somehow the longer they work together, the more like siblings they behave, and though Eddie is a decade older than Jason, he definitely acts like his little brother sometimes.
“He doing his pregaming?” Jason asks, by now used to Matty’s pregame routine after coaching him the last few years.
“If by pregaming, you mean sitting in the corner with his headphones on blaring music while not moving, then yes.” Eddie scrubs a hand over his beard. “I remembered what you said last season, so I didn’t bother him.”
“Good man,” Jason says. Not all of his players have pregame rituals but Matty does, and messing with it will just fuck him up. He’s had the same routine since he was a freshman, long before he became starting quarterback. Somewhere along the lines, it became less of a routine and more of a superstition no one dares to interrupt. Not unless they want the game to be a total shit show because when Matty is off, the entire team is off.
The game isn’t for another hour, but Jason’s got a pregame ritual too. It’s the same one he had back when he played on this very field in high school. He used to come out to the field when it was empty just like he is now, staring at the wide open stands and freshly lined field, and soaking it all in. He’s always thought of it a bit like the calm before the storm, letting that peace settle over him and guide him when things get hectic. Back when they played together, Theo used to tease him, telling him the grass was going to look the same at game time as it did before, but something about seeing it all empty has always settled Jason. It reminds him that whatever happens come game time, there’s always another chance. Nothing is forever. There’s always another chance.
“Ah, shit.”
“What’s wrong?” Jason asks.
“I forgot the playbook in your office. I know you specifically asked me to swing by and get it before I came down to the field. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll go. I need my water anyway. Why don’t you stay here in case any of the newer guys show up early. Make sure they’re hydrated and stretched. They probably won’t see game time today, but they’re part of the team, and they need to learn how to be ready now, so that next year when they’re on that field starting they’ve already got good habits. Then there’s Arlo. He’s gonna show up any minute trying to use the weight room before the game. Don’t let him try to work out, he pushes himself too hard.”
All of that is probably unnecessary since Eddie knows what to do without being told, but sometimes it makes Jason feel better to repeat the obvious. Almost as if saying it out loud, fortifying a plan, can manifest it into happening exactly the way it needs to.
Eddie crosses his arms, eyes on the field. “You got it.”
“I’ll head over to my office and get that playbook then meet you back here.”
“Sounds good, Coach.”
Satisfied that everything is in good hands, Jason strides across the field, smiling to himself as he watches his sneakers leave their mark in the grass. It’s been over a decade since he and Theo played on this field, but the memory has never completely faded. His brothers have teased him about being a teacher and coach, saying he peaked in high school and would never leave. Maybe they’re not too far off. Jason loved high school, loved playing on a team with his best friend, loved everything about it which is why his decision to become a teacher while the rest of his family chose loftier, better paying careers had been easy. Sure Jason is never going to make the big money like Andrew or his parents do, and yeah he won’t ever become well-known like Charlie is in the art world, but he’s damn happy here. As far as Jason is concerned, watching his kids grow up, being a part of them finding their footing before they venture off into the real world, is the most satisfying job on the planet. It doesn’t hurt that he gets to play football or run around doing obstacle courses and have fun most of the time. Honestly, Jason has the best fucking job.
Lost in thought, he doesn’t notice someone approaching until they’re standing directly in front of him and it’s far too late to change course without being rude which, despite his internal desire to do so, Jason won’t indulge.
“Hello, Mr. Caldwell. Fancy seeing you here on a Friday evening. Are you coming to the game?”
“Of course I’m not,” Mr. Caldwell snaps, like the notion itself offends him. To Jason’s knowledge, he’s never been to a game. Not when Jason was a student and certainly not since he started working here. He’s never met anyone who seems to dislike high school sports, or high schoolers, as much as Mr. Caldwell. Why he is a teacher at all is something Jason has never been able to figure out. “I was looking for you.”
“Me? Why?”
Mr. Caldwell sighs. “I thought it pertinent to remind you that if any of your players fail they can’t play.”
“Yeah,” Jason says, “I know the academic policy.”
“Then you might want to encourage your players to actually study rather than spending all their time worrying about a meaningless sport that won’t get them anywhere.”
It’s on the tip of Jason’s tongue to point out that football is a four billion dollar industry, and more importantly as far as Jason is concerned, that his kids happiness is worth more than money. There are invaluable skills taught through sports, but even if they weren’t applicable to a career, his players love the game, which is more than enough. He bites the words back though, not in the mood to argue with Mr. Caldwell. Not today.
Nothing, not even the world’s most cantankerous, unlikeable teacher, is going to ruin his mood. He refuses to give him the power.
“All my boys work hard, Mr. Caldwell. They’re also aware of the policy.” Jason smiles, though it’s forced to say the least. He absolutely hates this fucker. “They’re good kids, which you’d know if you gave them a fair chance.”
