PROLOGUE
Coach Drake Cooper
SIX YEARS AGO - PINE TREE FALLS HIGH SCHOOL, TEXAS
“Okay, receivers and QBs, let’s see what you got,” I call, clapping my hands three times.
Emmanuel Lopez, my offensive coordinator, sidles up next to me and quietly, says, “Hopefully this won’t be as much of a shitshow as last year.”
He’s not wrong. We had to rely heavily on our run game last season for a myriad of reasons. First of all, our starting quarterback had an arm like a wet noodle and threw nothing but ducks all season. Second, our receiver corps was… lacking in size and talent, to put it nicely.
But Hank Thompson, last year’s limp-armed quarterback, put in the work in the off-season. He spent his entire spring and summer in the weight room and put on a solid twenty pounds of muscle. He also attended two high-profile quarterback camps, and from what I’ve seen, the boy has made vast improvements.
Now we just need someone who can catch the damn ball.
Ah, the life of a small-town football coach. I’m entering my second year as the head coach for the Pine Tree Falls Bulldogs, and my goal is to one day be named as the school’s athletic director. But I need a few winning seasons under my belt before that happens.
I survey the fifteen prospective receivers in their helmets and white practice jerseys with maroon numbers on the front. Four of them are returning from last year, and the other eleven are new players.
“There are a couple guys with some size,” I comment, clocking number eighty-two, who I recognize as Anthony Dickerson from last year’s team, and number eleven, Tyrell Taylor, who will be a freshman. From watching him in junior high, I know Taylor has some talent, and he definitely has the size. He’s the tallest of the bunch at six foot five. Dickerson is about six foot two, but he struggled with catching passes last year. Most of that could have been attributed to the quarterback’s wobbly throws though.
Then my eyes find the next tallest athlete, number eighty-eight. He’s about six foot one and has a rangy body. I don’t think I’ve ever seen this boy before.
“You want me to send out three?” Coach Lopez asks, and I nod.
“Yep. Start with a simple hitch route.”
“Quick and dirty, just like I like my women,” he quips.
I tilt my head and offer him a dubious look. “You know the quick part isn’t necessarily a compliment to you, right, Manny?”
He booms out a laugh and slaps my shoulder. “When you got the right motion in the ocean, you don’t need stamina, Coop.” Then he performs a hip swivel before striding off toward the players.
Covering my smile with my fist, I shake my head. Never a dull moment when Lopez is around.
We begin the drill, and Thompson throws a quick pass to number twelve, who forgets to turn around and takes the ball to the back of his head.Jesus fucking Christ. It’s gonna be one of those years.
The next throw hits Dickerson right in the numbers, but he still manages to bobble the ball before securing it.At least the kid is built and can block.
Another new guy drops the pass thrown to him, even though Thompson’s throw was accurate. “Well, we have a good QB this year,” I mutter to myself. “Too bad no one can catch.”
The next group of three players makes my head ache, and I massage my temples with my thumb and forefinger.
In the following trio, Taylor, the incoming freshman, makes an easy catch, and my shoulders relax from their position near my ears. The two players following him are okay, but not great.
When the fourth group comes up, one of my returning varsity players, Louis Jenkins, catches his ball. I like Jenkins. He's a hard worker with good hands, but he’s only about five foot six, and most defenders are going to be much bigger than him.
Number eighty-eight is also in this group and makes his catch look easy.Now we’re talking.
Of the remaining players, none of them are very impressive.
“All right, guys. Line up again,” I yell. “Let’s try a fade-out route this time.”
After a few more drills, we have them run some sprints to determine speed before sending the guys to get some water while I consult with Lopez on the far sideline. After deliberating on who has potential for a few minutes, he calls the players over.
“Okay, good job today. I’ll call out nine numbers, and those players will stay over here. The rest will head to the practice field to work with Coach Jones.”
A sizzle of anticipation builds in the group. They know what this means. Alex Jones is the JV coach, so if we’re sending them to him, they’re not making varsity this year.
