Me: P.S. What are you wearing?
* * *
Today's game is probably going to go down as one of the most exciting of the season. It was a good old-fashioned shoot out between me and Anderson, the other team's veteran quarterback. First time he's been back on the field since a major back injury, and he looked twenty-one years old again if you ask me. I'm pretty sure he went to that back surgeon in Germany that everyone says is a miracle worker.
It was a three-point game up until the very last minute in the fourth quarter. Texans were up. I knew I needed to make something happen, but it was going to be hard, because the Texan defense had been blitzing me all fucking day.
We'd been running a play Coach B designed for the offense for an entire week at practice just for this very situation, but once I got to the line and saw how the defense was moving around, I decided to trust my gut and more importantly my teammates and change the play.
The new play would mean I'd have to specifically trust my tight end Cooper. A player that my brother of all people asked for me to give a chance a while back.
"Hey little brother."
"Hey, Mike."
"Thanks for taking Jake to the mountains, man. He couldn't stop talking about his awesome Uncle Saint."
"I knew the little stinker loved me."
"Listen I'm calling to put a bug in your ear."
"About what?"
"The man Cooper on your offense."
"New tight end? What about him?"
"He's the son of one of my old coaches at Georgia."
Mike and I went to different universities. Both of us on full athletic scholarships.
"So?"
"So I need you to look out for him. He's a good kid, and for some odd reason he's a fan of your arrogant ass. I'm not asking for much, just give him a chance."
"Mikey."
"Haven't I always looked out for you?"
"Yes but–"
"Don't you want to win your fucking division?"
"Obviously but–"
"So do your job. Trust your veterans and teach your rookies. Starting with Coop."
Remembering that conversation, I knew I had a split second to make a decision. So I decided to go with the play action pass. A play where I would get the ball, fake it to the running back, and then hand it over to my tight end, Cooper. The play would call for him to pretend to be blocking for me, then he'd suddenly break open, and I'd throw him the ball so that he could run it in for a touchdown. It's a call that can be practiced until you get the timing down a million times, but it's a play that really works best when there's chemistry between a quarterback and his tight end.
When I called the play, I could see the excitement and determination in Cooper's eyes. The Texans had been fucking with him a lot today. That's what's crazy about football. All the shit that's said on the field that the fans never hear. When analysts say that it's as close to war as you can come to, without actually being in a war, they are right.
Testosterone was flowing through our veins. Guys were talking about people's mothers. People's wives. Players were threatening to break each other in half. Anything to get into their opponents heads.
But I blocked all that out.
I had a game to win.
A girl to get to.
