“Man, it was brutal.” He exhales. “I loved getting back out there, but shit. I thought I’d kept in decent shape this off-season, but the body doesn’t lie. I’m fucking sore. And I’m on my way to do it all over again today.”
“It will get easier,” I tell him. I still remember the two-a-days of practice, and how much my body ached. “You know, you adjust.”
“Speaking of—how’s the new team? You started coaching already, right?”
“Just day one. It was awesome.”
“That’s great, J. You remember how you used to diagram plays for all of us when we’d practice together in Montana? You were always a genius at that shit.”
“Genius is a stretch,” I say.
“Not a stretch,” he insists. “You could work in the NFL if you wanted to. Start at the bottom and work your way up. Dyl and I would put in a word for you here if you ever wanted to move to L.A.”
“You know I can’t do that. I can’t move that far away. Plus, coaching in the pros tends to be a twenty-four-seven job. And I’m not interested in being a workaholic.”
“I know. Being a father comes first for you.” His tone is proud.
It’s not only my sons that keep me in Pennsylvania. It’s the woman I just left a Division I football program for to coach at a Division III school. Most would call that a step down. I call coming home to Olivia the best decision I ever made.
“I just want you to know the chance is always here for you if you want it.”
“Thanks, Colt. I appreciate that. You know I’d love to boss you and Dylan around on the field.”
“And the way you handled taking off the jersey…you were always a stud about dealing with the unexpected…” He trails off.
I tried to get through the major derailment in my football plans gracefully, tried to insist that I wanted to walk away from the sport so I could major in sports psychology.
And partially, that was true. I had won a full scholarship to college based on my 4.0 GPA and SAT scores; the football was a bonus. When I started at college, I hadn’t even known if I’d make the team.
As it turned out, I played so well that I was tapped to be the starting quarterback even though I was only a freshman. But in the first game, a quarter and a half in, my career was over with one missed block on my blind side.
Colton knows how much it stung when I blew out my knee. He knows the scar on my leg from the three surgeries I had to try to repair the damage doesn’t really fade with time. But I managed to convince him and his cousins that I was okay making the choice to stop playing. I never told him about the heartbreak I felt that last day at the doctor’s office when he told me I’d never again be able to stand behind center and risk taking another hit to my leg.
I took the semester off and came home to Liberty Falls.
For one reason—Olivia was there.
I had two of my surgeries, plus hours of rehab, while living back with my mom and Dee.
And Olivia was my sanctuary.
She was still in high school, but she came over every day after school, and we spent hours talking and hanging out. She made me realize that Jenson the person was far more important to her than Jenson the football star. And I don’t know if she’ll ever realize how much that meant to me.
I spent the entire fall rehabbing my knee in hopes of getting back on the football field, but it wasn’t meant to be. It hurt like hell to lose the ability to play competitively, but as I returned to school and got into the coaching side of football, I realized I enjoyed that nearly as much.
“I always loved to dissect plays,” I say to Colton. “I’m looking forward to doing it with this new team.”
“Cool. I’m excited to follow your season. So.” He pauses. “How else goes it in P.A.?” His question is casual, but his meaning anything but.
“Going well.”
“Yeah? Have you seen her?”
“J, I went to a family party on night one.” I walk out of the room and away from little ears. “Of course I saw her.”
“And? How was it?”
“Same as always. Fantastic.”
