Wednesday morning, the locker room buzzed with the usual first day of the week subjects. Players compared their day off. They talked about their wives, girlfriends, and kids. A few people were still lamenting last Sunday’s loss. That was the minority. Monday was for rehashing. After that you moved on. Tuesday was rest and on Wednesday the team began anew. The same was true after a win. A team that was still celebrating on the following Wednesday would lose on the next Sunday. Each week was a race. Seventeen games to win, before the real marathon began—the race to the Super Bowl.
Next Sunday’s opponent was theDetroit Lions. Last season they had a fifteen and two record. Then unexpectedly they were eliminated in the first game of the postseason. It wasn’t a secret that the Lions were out to make up for the playoff loss. While I was in LA last season, being on the West Coast didn’t mean I hadn’t kept up with all the teams.
I’d been monitoring the Coopers for most of my career. While I respected the organization, it was the woman I’d spent yesterday afternoon with who was my main pull. I meant what I told her. Life was moving forward and I had my sights on Maeve Hubbard for that next quarter.
I definitely didn’t feel that way when I transferred to Tennessee. Vee never mentioned her family’s connection to the Coopers. She didn’t keep her name a secret. She talked about her father, stepmother, and cousin Leigh. Rarely, she mentioned her mother.
In hindsight, maybe I could have put the clues together—I hadn’t.
It wasn’t until I transferred to Tennessee that I learned she was part of the Coopers’ Hubbards. Learning the part of her that she’d kept secret felt like a betrayal—a real punch in the gut. Vee knew my aspirations and instead of inviting me to meet Reid Hubbard, she kept him a secret. At twenty-two years old, I was pissed.
Before I transferred away from the University of Kentucky, I’d told her we could still talk and gettogether. It wasn’t goodbye but instead, see you later. I’d meant that when I said it. But learning what she’d kept from me was too much. Throughout our entire relationship we’d shared a lot, and still, that lack of honesty was difficult to take.
I didn’t follow through.
Now that I was here with the Coopers, I wanted a second chance. The other night in the parking lot, she said only the coach at UK knew her father owned the Coopers. She said people would have treated her differently. She was probably right. I hadn’t been able to look at it that way all those years ago.
The way she looked yesterday in her office, her smiles and enthusiasm, reminded me of the Vee I once knew.
“Fin, catch.”
I spun around just in time to catch a soft pass from Troy Dennison.
“Whoa.”
“I’m better at throwing than catching,” I said, tossing the ball back. Dennison caught it with a smile. He was ready with his full pads and practice jersey on. I was still lacing up my pants.
“Coach Garcia wants us to run some reps together after the team practice. I’m available if you are.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Word around the team is you came in to work out yesterday.”
“Is that a problem?” I asked.
“No, man. Just surprising. Most take the day to chill.”
I nodded. “I just moved into an apartment north of the facility. It’s okay, but Maker’s has better equipment than my clubhouse.”
“Next Tuesday, I’ll meet you over here,” Dennison said before lowering his voice. “I got to tell you, it’s weird being first string to you. I watched you play for Green Bay growing up. I wanted to be you.”
Pulling my practice jersey over my pads, I returned his smile. Dennison was a good-looking kid, about an inch taller than me, equally as muscular with a killer smile, and short dreads. “It’s not weird, and thanks. It’s the way it goes with the game. I’m lucky to still be playing. Players I started with who played more demanding positions have made the right move and retired.”
“You’re not retiring, Fin. I’m planning on learning a lot from you.” He slapped my shoulder pad. “I’ll see you out there.”
Starting with a new team wasn’t the easiest; however, I’d done it many times. I was accustomed to being the new guy. It was more difficult to enter a new team during the season. There was camaraderie that grew between teammates with each game, win, and loss.
Simpson had that familiarity with the other players on the Coopers. Now, he’d been let go because of me.At least it didn’t sound like Dennison was holding a grudge.
Preseason was a better time to join a team. It was similar to starting a new school at the beginning of the year, versus halfway through. Instead of being in high school, I was a thirty-six-year-old man, surrounded by talented-as-hell high schoolers. They weren’t that young, but sometimes it sure as hell felt that way.
Troy Dennison was only twenty-three years old. He grew up watching me play. I was thirteen years old when he was born and had already been playing football for three years. The way of the game. Out with the old and in with the new.
Our coaches spent a good chunk of yesterday watching films of the Lions and putting together a game plan. The calls they’d be making this week were ones they felt were best against the Lions’ defense. And the defensive coaches will do the same to stop the Lions’ offense.
Carrying my helmet, I walked outside.
I squinted my eyes at the bright sunlight.
