Page 27 of Make the Play
“Every student in my class gets the same chance. If they choose to squander that opportunity for success, it’s not my problem,” Mr. Caldwell snaps, straightening his tie. “Keep your players in check or there will be consequences.”
Not for the first time is Jason tempted to tell Mr. Caldwell exactly what he thinks of him. He doesn’t, not because he cares about the consequences for himself directly, but because if he did there’s a chance it would impact his ability to coach or teach, and he won’t do that to his kids.
“You have a great evening, Mr. Caldwell,” Jason tells him, widening his smile, knowing it’ll piss Mr. Caldwell off. “You live off Seaward, right? I’m sure you’ll hear us cheering when we win, and you can celebrate the Santa Leon Wildcats from home.”
The death glare Mr. Caldwell sends him makes Jason’s smile split his face in earnest. He watches Mr. Caldwell depart, ignoring his grumbled, under his breath complaint about noise levels and sporting events needing to be banned. Jason wouldn’t care so much about him hating football, some of the other staff do too, if he didn’t seem determined to make it his life’s mission to take that out on his players in the classroom.
He does a mental check of his players' schedules as he walks towards his classroom. He knows Matty and Ricardo both have Mr. Caldwell, but he’s got to double check on his other senior players, wanting to be aware of which of them might need a little extra support this semester. Mr. Caldwell’s class is no joke, and his desire to see football players fail is something Jason won’t tolerate, especially not when that could jeopardize any of his players’ futures. For all Mr. Caldwell thinks football is a joke, more than one of his senior players is on track to be scouted for college. Both Matty and Ricardo are looking at getting into D1 schools with full rides. Jason knows that neither of their families can afford to send them to college if they don’t get those scholarships—something they can’t do if Mr. Caldwell fails them.
Jason makes a mental note to go over his starting players’ course loads over the weekend to make sure he knows exactly what they might need. Especially Matty. Last year was rough for him academically, and while Jason did what he could, his hands were tied because Matty didn’t—still doesn’t—have an official diagnosis to get him the kind of support Jason strongly suspects he needs. Limited by stupid bureaucracy, the most Jason had been able to do for Matty last year was get him to attend a few extra tutoring lessons. Now that he thinks about it, he should make sure to remind all his players of this so none of them feel singled out.
Pausing in the middle of the walkway, he opens his notes apps to make an actual note to himself, well aware he will absolutely forget this thought by tomorrow if he doesn’t write it down. He’s about to click out of his notes app when Emerson’s face filters into his thoughts, and he finds himself making a new folder simply titled Emerson. There he types out the few things he’s learned about the other man, including his dislike of donuts and affinity for Ranch Doritos, peanut butter and Dr. Pepper. At the last second, he adds on ‘dislikes being late’ as well. It’s not much but it’s a start. He’s never made a folder like this for any of his other coworkers or friends but Emerson is different, his likes and dislikes more than simple preference. If Jason can remember things that might make him feel more at ease, regulated and happy, he wants to.
No sooner has he closed the app then a text message from an unfamiliar phone number pops up on his screen. Jason opens it, unable to stop the ridiculous smile that spreads across his face.
Arlo told me you guys have a game tonight. Every Friday he said. He was quite horrified I didn’t know this. Social etiquette makes me think I should wish you luck. Or am I supposed to tell you to break a leg? I can’t imagine you’d want that in football though.
Jason quickly adds Emerson's name to his contact list before shooting him a reply, a pep in his step as he pockets his phone.
7EMERSON
With trembling hands,Emerson stares at the phone in his hand, hardly able to believe he actually texted Jason. Sure Jason gave him his number and said he could text him anytime, but that was an incredibly vague offer that Emerson had not intended to take him up on. Not because he didn’t want to text Jason, rather because the parameters of the offer were too vague for him to be sure how to go about.
He’d all but twisted himself up in knots inside when Arlo mentioned the game. In hindsight, half of the student body wearing spirit wear should’ve been a tip off, but it wasn’t until Arlo’s comment at the end of class that he put two and two together. He spent the next few hours winding himself up over whether it was a good idea. In the end, the memory of Jason’s dimpled smile and their time spent together at lunch was enough for Emerson to overcome his nerves and click send.
That momentary bravery is rewarded when his own phone, rarely used with only five contacts—three of which are work-related—buzzes beside him on the couch.
Jason
definitely no broken anything in football
but good luck is always appreciated
Emerson grips his phone tightly, embarrassed at his own smile and finds his reply coming with a swiftness that negates his ability to overthink.
Emerson
I don’t understand football enough to know how much is luck and how much is skill, but on the off chance you need both I’ll wish you both.
but good luck to you — today and every day
Looking up at his television he watches Gandalf stride across the screen. He’s seen this movie so many times he knows every scene by heart, the familiarity of it comforting in the deepest way. He watches it for a minute, subtitles on as always, when a thought occurs to him. Maybe Jason isn’t a Lord of the Rings fan. Maybe he won’t understand the reference.
Worried about the reception of his last message, he sends another text just to make sure.
Emerson
That’s a reference from Lord of The Rings. In case you didn’t catch it.
The Fellowship of the Rings to be exact.
Jason
afraid I did not catch that
but I haven't seen the movies since they came out
A frown mars Emerson’s features as he stares at his phone and starts rapidly tapping out a reply.
