I sighed and hung my head. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Coach asked.
I didn’t blame him. I’d been around football players my whole school life. We did have a reputation for getting into trouble.
If he didn’t say what, there was a chance I would incriminate myself with something even worse. But I knew what this was about.
“I’m failing Business 101,” I said. The words hung heavy in the air. It did not feel better to get them out. At all.
“What are you going to do about it?” Coach asked. Direct and to the point.
I swallowed. “I’m getting tutoring,” I offered. “It was for Econ, but I can ask for more.”
Coach nodded. “I’ve noticed your Econ grades improved a little,” he said. “Harvey, we’re in the early part of the year, but it’s still important. You need to keep those grades up. If you get failed out of a class, you won’t be meeting the minimum requirement to stay. Then you’re going to have to find a way to get extra credit on your other classes, or you’ll have to leave the team.”
“I know,” I nodded miserably. The rest of it went unsaid. The fact that if I was forced to leave the team, I’d lose my partial scholarship.
There was no way I could afford to go to college on my own. Without the scholarship, I would have to drop out. If I dropped out, I could kiss any chance of a good job goodbye.
I just had to pass two classes – and I was failing even at that.
“Do that,” Coach nodded. “Get more tutors if you need to. I need to see you trying.”
I nodded. I kept my head down.
“Is there anything else?” Coach demanded.
I had better tell him. “I’m getting tested for dyscalculia,” I said.
Coach grunted. “You think it’s smart staying with Business and Econ if you have dyscalculia?”
I looked up in surprise. Was he telling me I wouldn’t make it? “I need those classes for my future. In case I don’t make it in football. I have to pass them.” I couldn’t risk leaving college without useful qualifications. I wasn’t going to be like my parents. I wanted to start my own business. Make real money. Not just work for the man for the rest of my life and stay poor.
“Hm.” Coach paused and looked at his notes. “Then that’s what you’ll do.”
I blinked. “What?”
“You need to pass,” Coach said. He picked up a pen and pointed at me. “So, you’ll pass. You do whatever it takes to study harder, to get around your disadvantage, and you pass. Get a tutor. Get five tutors. I’m serious. We need you on the team, and you’re smart to want a backup plan. So, you pass. Got it?”
I nodded sharply. “Yes, Coach.”
“Good.” He put the pen down again. “Now, go get ready. You’re going to be late to the field.”
I quirked a slight smile at his hypocritical statement and turned back to the locker room.
He was right. By the time I was out on the field, the rest of the team was already doing drills. I joined them and tried to focus on putting my all into it. I couldn’t do great in class. But I could do great at football. That was what mattered.
Maybe I could play well enough that I could get scouted before I graduated. Then I wouldn’t need to worry about passing.
Of course, I still had to make it to the first game to even have a hope of that.
“Alright, that’s it!” Coach called out. I looked around. The sun was lower in the sky than I had expected. Had it really been three hours already? “Everyone get cleaned up and go back to your dorms. See you again tomorrow.”
The others stood around for a moment chatting or else walked right off toward the locker rooms. I hesitated. I didn’t want to go back to the dorm yet.
I was so stupid. I was failing everything. But if I could get fitter, run faster, maybe I could save this. Maybe I could be good enough at football that none of the rest would matter.
I took one last look at the other guys and turned my back on them to start another run around the field.
