Junior Year Box Set

During practice, it became apparent that the new formation was working because Coach Zoon’s boys were having a hell of a time stopping us. Jake and Ed, our slotbacks, had a much easier time of it. They were both dangerous in the open space, especially if a linebacker had to cover them. When we added Ty to the mix, we were unstoppable. The key would be that our offensive line absolutely had to hold up against Springfield. If the line gave me enough time, I could get the football to our speed guys, and we would be able to defeat Springfield’s superior defensive schemes.

This approach was very much from the old Oakland Raider playbook. They believed in stretching the field with speed and forcing defensive backs to have to make plays. This put tremendous pressure on the defense because instead of a brawl, where you had to fight your way through multiple opponents, you isolated one or two defensive players. They had to be able to defend against your best athletes. It only took a slight mistake to suddenly allow a big play. Coach Mason was a big believer in the 20-plus-yard plays stat. The team with more of those plays usually won.

The key to this working was me. I had the arm strength and accuracy to be able to throw the long ball. Usually, that would be enough, but with Springfield, I had to be careful. It would be a game of cat-and-mouse. I just needed to be aware, so I didn’t get turned into the mouse.

◊◊◊

I’d decided to bypass the dojo this week. Actually, Coach Hope had ordered it. He didn’t want to take a chance with my concussion.

Tami had also sent me information on the recovery process. There had been an animal study where they had given rats concussions. One set of rats received a mild concussion daily for a month. After the month, it showed that those rats had noticeable brain damage. Another group received a mild concussion once a week. What they found was initially up to ten percent of the neural synapses either had degraded or were interrupted. After three days, the pathways would heal back to normal function. The conclusion was that even mild cases of concussion had to be given time to mend. Tami added that she felt further studies would show that was why football players had problems over time. Repeated daily head trauma in practice and games had a cumulative effect because the brain didn’t have time to recuperate.

Of course, she sent the information to both Coach Hope and my mom. I saw the logic in the study results, and that was why I hadn’t fought the trainers on getting back onto the field too soon. The whole experience had scared me a little bit.

What I did after practice instead was more fun than letting Cassidy kick my butt. I gathered the team and cheerleaders together, minus Jim and Mona, before everyone took off.

“It looks like everyone’s here,” Wolf said.

“I’ve gathered you all here to participate in my diabolical plan,” I started, rubbing my hands together. “Homecoming is tomorrow, and we need to decide who’ll be King and Queen."

Kim jumped up, sauntered up to me, and grinned. I guess my expression gave away my thoughts at that moment because everyone started to laugh. I held up my hand.

“Okay, new plan,” I said as Tracy did the same little walk.

I looked between the two of them and must have had a brain freeze. Either that or Mr. Happy seized control of the body.

“Hang on. I might have a new plan,” I confessed.

“I think our fearless leader is worthless,” Wolf announced.

“I want to hear this new plan of his,” Yuri said.

“Everyone vote for Jim. The girls can fight it out,” I said.

Mona would have to win on her own merits. Kim and Tracy gave the guys their best sexy looks. I had a feeling Mona was in trouble.

◊◊◊

Halle went home with me for dinner. I’d put a stew in the Crock-Pot this morning because it was the perfect meal for when it started to cool off. When I got home, Dad had arrived first and was making drop biscuits.

“Devin Range and one of his employees will be joining us to go hunting this weekend,” I said.

“You aren’t going to kill Bambi, are you?” Halle asked as she wrinkled her nose.

“No, David’s going to kill turkeys,” Dad said. “John says that we can smoke some of them for Thanksgiving. One of the other farmers put in a smokehouse and has been bragging about it.”

I rolled my eyes. I knew where this was going.

“So he bought one and is having it installed,” Dad said.

“I like smoked turkey,” Halle offered.

“You have to shoot your own,” I said, thinking that would discourage her.

“Can I come?” she asked, surprising both my dad and me.

“Hold that thought,” I said, pulling out my phone.

“Brook, do you want to go hunting with us this weekend before we go skydiving?” I asked.

“Sure,” she said.

“Okay, we’ll need to leave for my uncle’s farm after the dance,” I said. “Oh, and Halle’s going with us.”

“I can’t wait to see her hunting,” Brook said and hung up on me.