Troy forced a closed-lip smile. “It’s selfish of me to want to practice.”
“Bye weeks are meant for physical and mental recovery,” I said, realizing this was only his second year in the league. “It’s nice when they come a little later in the season. Once we’re back, we have ten straight weeks. No rest.”
“Naw,” Troy said, “we’re not done the beginning of January. The Coopers will be playing all the way to the Super Bowl.”
My cheeks rose. “I like your confidence.”
“We’re headed to the cafeteria,” Dijon said, tapping my shoulder.
“I’ll see you there. I’m headed back to the training center.”
“How you feel?” Jamir asked. “You looked a little dazed when you were lying there on the field. I was glad when they sent you back in.”
Standing, I tried not to groan or grimace. “I’d lie if I said I wasn’t sore. That’s what two weeks are for.” I smiled toward Troy. “Besides, it doesn’t take too much energy to sit on the bench. That’s where I’ll be.”
Most of the others headed toward the cafeteria. A smaller group of us went the other direction, toward the training facility. Lacy’s gaze met mine when I entered. She waved me toward her.
“Come with me, Fin. I want to show you something.”
I stood taller, ignoring the sense of dread. “I figured you’d say all is good and let me eat.”
This woman was easily a foot shorter than I was, yet I realized she held the key to my future play. Lacy didn’t speak as she took me back to one of the exam rooms.
After closing the door, she spoke. “Have a seat. I want to show you what we found.” She remained standing. “Are you sure you haven’t had shortness of breath?”
“I told you, I’m fine.”
“Fin,” she said exasperatedly. “Answer my questions.”
“After the hit. I was winded. That’s all.” There was no way I was going to mention the stars. The trainers did concussion protocol in the tent.
“Nothing since that time?”
“No.”
She took the rolling chair and sat. We both turned toward her laptop.
“The reason your side is tender,” she began, “is because you have a hairline stress fracture of rib number nine. The bone isn’t split apart.” She pointed at the screen. “Nevertheless, it is broken. The good news is that your lower ribs are what some call false ribs. They don’t attach directly to the sternum. They’re connected anteriorly by cartilage. They’re usually less stressed. No doubt, the cartilage is bruised.”
“How long will that take to heal?”
She inhaled. “Full healing will take four to six weeks.”
She must have read my expression.
“A fracture like yours isn’t considered serious. You’ll probably be good to play in two weeks. I hate to give you this power, but you’re the judge of your pain. If your pain level isn’t high, you’ll play sooner.”
My mind was going through the season. I didn’t care that I was on the bench. I wanted to be out there on the sideline. “Okay, we’re not talking IR.”
“Injury reserve, no. You will go out on today’s injury report as questionable for the Titans.”
“That’s the only game?”
“Again, Fin, we’ll reevaluate. Quarterbacks can take longer because your position requires torso rotation and impact absorption. Take this week to rest. No weights. No running. No practice.”
“Our next practice isn’t until Saturday.”
Lacy bobbed her head. “It’s a good time for a bye week.”
