“Look, every position has their own coach and meeting room. This…” he gestures around us at the small room, filled with a couple of tables and comfy office chairs, all facing a huge screen on the wall. “This is the linebackers meeting room. They sit in here for hours watching tape, discussing plays, talking strategy.”
“Yeah…” I say, not really seeing where this is going.
“Each of these rooms is your responsibility now.”
“By getting them snacks?”
He sighs and pulls a small worn notebook out of his bag, looking at it fondly before handing it to me.
“Guard this with your life,” he says.
There’s nothing on the cover, it’s just a plain notebook, but when I open it, it’s full of lists and scribbles, all in different handwriting, stuff crossed out and added, even notes in the margins.
Tyler reaches over and turns it to a page with LINEBACKER written across the top in all caps.
“This is what you’re in charge of,” he says, pointing at the list.
Gummy Sweets
Capri-Sun drinks
Pringles
Cheetos (Flamin’ Hot)
Vanilla scented candles (not the cheap kind)
“Vanilla scented candles?”
Tyler points to one of the desks, and what I thought was an empty glass, is actually the remnants of a candle.
“They have candles on during their meetings?” I ask.
“Hey, you try sitting in one of these windowless rooms with a load of sweaty guys when they’ve just come back from a run. You’ll be begging for scented candles. Also, it’s some kind of scent therapy shit, something about people staying calm and relaxed, it builds a better mindset.”
“Okay,” I nod. “But these snacks, are they allowed to eat this stuff? Aren’t they on strict diets?”
“You wanna tell a group of linebackers what they can and can’t eat?” He laughs, and I join in when I picture my dad and his appetite.
