“It’s nothing bad.” Somehow, I didn’t believe him. Maybe it was the way he couldn’t meet my eyes or the slight flick of a fingernail against the edge of his clipboard, both of which told me Teddy was nervous. “The scouts have been working to see who’s worth watching this season leading up to the draft. Charles brought up Lincoln’s son, but I’m not so sure.”
My chest filled with pride for Hunter. He was a hard worker who deserved to play in the NAFL. Having him here would be a complication because he was a constant reminder of Lincoln, but I knew he’d be an asset to the team. And I needed to remember that I had a job to do. It wasn’t typical for Teddy to ask me to take a look at a potential player, but certainly not unheard of. The question was, why was Teddy worried?
“I’ll do whatever you need,” I assured him before turning my attention back to the field. They looked tired. This heat wasn’t doing anyone any favors. “I assume you’ve got tape you want me to watch? What am I looking for?”
“I want you to watch the game tomorrow, watch him,” he told me. “The little bit of tape Charles did get, it looks to me as if he’s trying to hide an injury. He hesitates when he’s going for the ball, and when he does make a catch that’s not right at the numbers, he’s slow to recover.”
“That’s not unusual,” I argued. These guys went out on the field and abused their bodies day in and day out. Lincoln hadn’t mentioned anything about an actual injury. Then again, I hadn’t exactly given him the opportunity if this was something that’d come on in the past few weeks. “I’m sure it’s nothing major.”
“And you may be right, but I still want you to take a look,” Teddy reiterated. “I know it puts you in a tough spot though, because you’re friends with Lincoln.”
Shit. This was why he hadn’t wanted to get me involved. If someone wanted to be a dick, they could try and say there was a conflict of interest. Because if I did see the same thing Teddy saw when he watched Hunter’s tape, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep myself from saying something to Lincoln.
And it wouldn’t be because I wanted Hunter on the Breakers—which I would if I was able to separate my own issues from what was best for the team. I’d say something to Lincoln because I didn’t want his son to wind up bitter like I was. Injuries left unchecked had the potential to destroy everything.
“What do you want me to do if I see something?” I asked.
Please don’t tell me to keep my mouth shut, I silently pleaded. I’d do whatever I was instructed by my head coach, but it’d put me in an awkward position.
“Officially, I want you to report back to me,” he said, staring out over the last few minutes of practice.
Our conversation was interrupted when he had to run out to the field to give Benji Hale a swift kick in the ass. This was our last week of training camp. When we got back from Birmingham Sunday night, Teddy and the rest of the coaching staff would be sitting down to make the final cuts before week one. No one, not even Hale, could afford to slack off. And unlike deShawn, who was nursing an injury, I had no doubt that’s what Hale was doing.
Teddy rejoined me on the sidelines, scribbling some notes on a clipboard. “Sorry about that. I swear, that stupid shit has so much potential, but he’s got it in his head we should all keep him around because we know what hecando rather than keep or cut him based on what heisdoing.”
“Believe me, I get it.” I sighed, knowing Hale was sealing his own fate a little more every day.
It didn’t help that he was one of the only players on the team who was still being an asshole to Zach since he’d come out. He grabbed every possible opportunity to tell whoever was in earshot that he wasn’t happy about having someone who might be checking out his package in the locker room.
But that wasn’t my concern; right now, I needed to focus on what Teddy was (or wasn’t) asking me to do in regards to Hunter. “Okay, so you’ve told me what you want me to do, but is there anyunofficialaction you’d like me to take?”
It wouldn’t be the first time a team got word to a college player that they were interested in drafting him based on a few contingencies. It was always hush-hush, but it happened. The difference this time was there was a strong connection between a member of the team’s staff and the player’s family. And Hunter was a good-enough player people were going to be watching him this year.
“I can’t tell you what to do in your downtime, but a little birdie informed me Lincoln bought tickets for them to come to Sunday’s game.”
Great. It looked like my avoidance of Lincoln was about to come to an end one way or another. And I couldn’t even be pissed about the fact that Teddy knew before I did, because again, I was the one who’d told Lincoln I needed time. How was I to know he’d respect my request and not push me to talk before I was ready?
“I think it might be time for you to take an evening off and unwind a bit. Maybe ask an old friend to go to dinner. Bury the hatchet and get the hell over whatever happened between the two of you. And if you happen to mention something about what you see on the tapes and in tomorrow’s game, it’d just be two friends talking.”
“You do realize we could get in trouble for this, right?” God, I sounded like such a little ninny. Unfortunately, as much as the league tended to overlook the little birdies flying around about interested teams, it was different when someone from those teams actually tried to do something which could impact a player’s prospects.
“We could, but I have a feeling you’re the type of guy who’d make that call if you saw it on your own,” Teddy suggested.
He was right. And I felt like shit, because I’d gone out of my way to not watch Hunter’s games because hearing Hunter’s name was a reminder of what happened with Linc the last time he was in town. If I’d been watching, I would’ve seen something sooner. Hopefully, if Teddy was right and Hunter was trying to hide something, I’d see it and it wouldn’t be too late to prevent permanent damage.
“Look, if he wasn’t such a damn good player, I wouldn’t push so hard for you to do this. I know I’m wedging you between a rock and a hard place, but the other thing to look at is we don’t know for sure if we’re even going to need him next year. It’s way too early for us to make any sort of draft decisions. Hell, the kid hasn’t even declared that he’s leaving school early. I just want you to take a look and tell me what you see.”
“That I can do,” I promised. “Now, if you don’t mind, I apparently have tapes to look over. In myair-conditionedoffice.”
“You know, you’re kind of a bastard sometimes.” Teddy laughed and shoved me away. It was the first time in a month I remembered actually smiling. “Go, enjoy your nice cold office while the rest of us melt under the sun.”
* * *
Once the sunset and the heat broke, it was an almost perfect summer evening. Still a bit humid, but that’s what you got when you lived in the South.
I backed up the clip of Hunter for the hundredth time, trying to gage how severe his injury was. It was definitely there, but there was a chance it was simply a matter of not properly stretching before and after practice rather than a tear. Tomorrow, we’d be in our hotel in Birmingham before Hunter’s game started and I’d be sitting alone in my room, scrutinizing his every move. The other thing I’d learned over the years was a lot of players took it easy during practice if they were worried about a potential injury, which was the best-case scenario here.
I could sit there all night watching the same few minutes of tape over and over, but it wasn’t going to do any good. At this point, I’d moved beyond what Teddy had asked and I was now using Hunter as a way to avoid calling Linc. Because I’d promised myself today was the day, but that didn’t mean I was ready to say what needed to be said.
