“You do remember that I had several surgeries to repair that shattered knee, don’t you? I’m stronger, Micah. I can do this. I’ve been working toward this since I started rehab. Last month I hired a trainer and—”
“Wait, wait. You hired a trainer? Since when?”
“I just said last month. Are you listening to me or what?”
“I keep my ear to the ground. I haven’t heard a single peep about you working with a trainer.”
“That’s because she isn’t part of the normal NFL circuit.”
“She?”
“Yeah, she. And she’s brilliant.”
Understanding dawned in Micah’s eyes. “This is that girl you’re dating, isn’t it? The one from that video. Rhea texted me a screenshot of an article she found on some gossip website with the two of you eating ice cream. At the time I thought it was ridiculous that anyone would care who you were eating ice cream with, but it looks as if I need to pay more attention to those gossip sites.”
“Yeah, about that,” Jamar said. “We’re not really dating. It’s just a front because I didn’t want it to get out that I was working with a trainer.” He told him about the episode with Alec Mooney during the Longhorns’ practice.
“Well, your plan is working. Rhea’s been trying to come up with a name for you. She liked Jamaylor more than TayJar.”
Jamar couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t understand the obsession with celebrity gossip, but if it keeps the press occupied, they can call us whatever they want, as long as I can keep my plans under wraps until the end of the regular season. I figure I’ll have a better chance with a team that doesn’t make the playoffs. That’s where you see the most roster moves.”
“And this is where I come in,” Micah said.
Jamar nodded. “I want you to send invites to attend a private workout where I’ll go through the battery of tests used at the Combine.” He ran a hand down his face. “Look, Micah, I know it’s a long shot. It’s not as if I’m expecting to be a starter or anything.”
“Not so fast. Maybe youcanstart,” Micah said.
His head flinched back. “What do you mean?”
An eruption of laughter came from somewhere in the distance.
“Give me a minute.” He stood. A moment later, Jamar heard a door close. “There’s aFortnitecompetition taking place in the living room,” Micah said when he reappeared. He reclaimed his seat and took another sip from his mug. “I wasn’t going to say anything because I honestly thought you were done with the League, but I’ve been hearing a few rumors lately.”
“You’ve gotta give me more than that, Micah. What kind of rumors?”
“Have you been keeping tabs on Demario Simpson at KSU?”
“It’s hard not to,” Jamar said. “Every sports magazine out there has him as the top running back prospect this year. What about him?”
“I hear that he’s rethinking entering the draft early and may stay another year in school.”
Jamar drew in a sharp breath. “How sure are you?”
“As sure as anyone can be.” He shrugged. “Who knows, it may just be rumors.” He paused, then added, “But maybe it isn’t. It wouldn’t be the first time a top college athlete decided to give all agents a heart attack by sticking in to earn his degree.
“And that’s not all,” Micah continued. “Van Johnson is planning to retire this year.”
“Bullshit,” Jamar retorted.
“He is. That last concussion scared the hell out of his wife. She’s worried about CTE, and based on the rumor mill, she gave him an ultimatum.”
“She has a right to be worried,” Jamar said.
He didn’t blame Van for leaving early. The brain disorder was always at the forefront of his mind. But the running back’s decision made it even more important that he should do what he could to get back in the game. Van’s exit created a space for him. And if Demario Simpson decided to sit out the draft, that was yet another starting running back who would not be taking up a spot on a team’s roster.
After talking with Micah, one thing was abundantly clear: If Jamar was going to make a return to the NFL, this was his year to do it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
