Page 66 of The Backup Plan

He lifts his bottle of beer to me. “We have indeed. Let’s hope we get to do the same here.”

“Hopefully.”

“Us two old fuckers showing these young kids how it’s done.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Someone does a cannonball into the pool and soaks half the deck.

“Give a warning next time,” I say, pushing myself up and pulling my phone out of the newly soaked deck and hold it up. “Cell phones.”

“Yeah, yeah. Like you can’t afford to buy a million of them,” someone shouts out.

Laughter rolls through the group as I lift my middle finger in their direction.

When I look around, I notice Cole has moved across from me. He’s leaned back on an elbow, sunglasses on, and a drink in hand. He’s quieter than usual today. Still rough around the edges but definitely not looking for a fight as seems to be his usual MO.

Progress.

It’s easier than I expected here, as no one treats me like a legend. They don’t treat me like dead weight either. I’m beginning to feel like everyone else—just another guy trying to make a roster spot.

A linebacker tries to put a beer in my hand.

I shake my head. “I’m good. Thanks though.”

“C’mon, Hale. One won’t kill you,” Dominic says from where he sits on a raft shaped like a frog in the pool.

“Nah. I don’t take chances with anything that might make me throw like shit tomorrow,” I say.

That gets a laugh and a nod of understanding—or is it respect?

Cole tilts his head. “You really don’t drink during the season?” he asks.

“On a very rare occasion.”

“Huh.” He considers that. “Guess that explains the arm.”

Was that a compliment? I believe it was, but I play it off. “And the lack of a social life,” I joke.

He smirks. “Fair.”

We lapse into a comfortable silence, where it doesn’t feel like anyone is sizing up anyone else.

“So,” a tight end says, leaning back in his chair. “What’s it like?”

“What’s that?” I ask, but I know what he’s asking. It’s the subject that always comes up when I’m sitting around rookies.

“The Super Bowl,” he says.

A few heads turn, and I don’t miss the way Cole stills.

I shrug, wanting to be the voice of experience but not the one of arrogance. “It’s loud.”

That earns a chuckle.

“And incredible.” I shake my head as I think back. “It’s just like any other game and no other game you’ve ever played. There are so many distractions off the field that you have to work hard to concentrate and remain on it. But it’s over fast.” I pause as more guys step in to hear. “And then you spend the rest of your career chasing the feeling.”

“So, what’s the secret?” someone asks.