“Lucas Hale,” Coach says. The name hangs in the air.
His profile appears on the screen. Age. Injury history. Contract details including incentive. It’s basically a countdown disguised as data.
“He’s a risk,” one coordinator says.
“He’s also a draw,” the guy with sunscreen says. “Fans know his name. Some will follow him here simply because they liked him when he played for the Cougars.”
“True, but they’ll also jump off his bandwagon if he goes down again,” Grant says. “He’s a valuable asset for many reasons, but Lucas’s role here is very clear. He’s here to lead Cole Valor.”
A few heads nod around the table.
“To mentor him,” Coach says. “Round out some of his rougher edges and help him navigate the league without burning bridges or himself down in the process. Maybe teach him how to be a good PR asset as well.”
Grant folds his arms. “Valor has talent, but talent without discipline or humility gets you injured, benched, or both. Hale’s job is to steady him. Teach him how to survive this league. Temper some of his ego.”
I lean forward slightly, fingers pressing into the edge of the table, trying to understand what I’m hearing. “So, I’m supposed to rehab and ready a quarterback who you have no intention of ever stepping foot on the field in a game?”
Silence settles in the room. Grant exhales slowly, like he’s already made peace with the decision. “He might.”
Coach nods, just once. “That’s not the plan though.”
Something cold settles in my chest. I glance back toward the glass wall, toward the practice field that’s empty now, and subtly shake my head.
“Does he know that?” I ask.
My question is met with another pause before Grant fills the silence. “Some of it.”
“And he still took the contract?” I continue.
“He did.” Grant meets my gaze with a cocked head and questions in his eyes. “He came here under no pretenses. He’s not guaranteed a spot on the final fifty-three-man roster but knows his experience is invaluable to us. The man’s a throwback player whose love for the game is both his strength and his weakness. Even if he never takes the field, his love for the game will drive him to train hard and lead where he can. Other players will follow his example.”
“Hale thinks he’ll play or he wouldn’t be here,” a voice from down the table, one of the coordinators, pipes in. “He thinks he’ll prove the naysayers wrong, and despite his injury, he’ll strive for first string and the QB1 spot because that’s all he’s ever known.”
I exhale a long breath before I can stop myself.
First string? Daily reps and the intensity of a live game with defenders out to sack him? Regular recovery protocol for a shoulder says it’s possible this far post-op. But it could also be catastrophic if he pushes hard the way I watched him push hard earlier out on the field.
And that’s what they’re asking me to decide for them.
“So, you’ll exploit his love and dedication for the game to the team’s advantage,” I say before I can stop myself.
Shit. Probably not the best thing to say on day one.
No one comments right away, but I feel the room shift. The acknowledgment that what Owen and I are holding isn’t just medical data. It’s leverage.
“As any good team wanting to compete would,” Grant says unapologetically.
Coach clears his throat. “Regardless, we need expert eyes on him.” His gaze lands squarely on me. “Our initial plan is to roster him as our QB2, but that assumption is being made off his old doctor’s references and Lucas’s assurances. They both say he’s ready to play—full return to action. And we’re ready to go with that assessment and let him play without restrictions. The man is talented and would not only be a steal contractually if that’s the case, but also a boost to team leadership. That’s why we’re depending on you to help him further his rehabilitation. But at the same time, if you see a decline in his shoulder, you report it. Immediately.”
I nod. “Of course.”
“No protecting him. No optimism,” Coach adds.
I almost smile. “I don’t operate on optimism,” I say. “I operate on evidence.”
“Well, if his performance drops because of injury, we need to know it before it costs us games,” Grant says.
But if you don’t plan on him playing, then he won’t cost you anything. Does anyone else hear him contradicting himself?