Senior Year Box Set

When we walked in, the locker room was silent. Then I heard Coach Mason and Coach Hope screaming at each other.

“I didn’t sign up for this crap. If you’re not going to play the obvious starters, I’ll go out and tell the press exactly what you’re up to. I bet you’re out of a job come Monday morning,” Coach Mason threatened.

“This is my team!” Coach Hope got out before I slammed the door open.

“Coach Mason, let me handle this,” I said.

He took one look at me and smiled.

“By all means. I think I softened him up for you,” Coach Mason said, then left the three of us alone.

“What …?” Coach Hope started, but I cut him off.

“Guess who Wolf and Tim got when they called your office to tell you about their plans to go to Mexico and ask for permission to go? Guess who told them that if there were a problem, he would call them back? And never did? Guess who gave me a tiny locker? Guess who hid my gear? They all have the same answer. Instead of talking to us, you trusted this little rat. I suppose you expect me to bail your ass out since you started this dumpster fire. If it weren’t for my teammates, I’d tell you to stick it.

“My question to you is, when are you going to get your head out of your ass and do something about Alan? I signed on to win State. I didn’t sign on for this bullshit, or to be your whipping boy whenever you have control issues. Until we all get on the same page, I may need to take a step back and reconsider my options. I won’t be a part of these kinds of head games, especially when you can’t seem to man up and come to talk to us if you have a problem. This could all have been resolved with the smallest bit of communication,” I said in an even, calculated voice.

Coach Hope looked at my dead-serious face and then at Alan. The dumbass wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“Dammit! Are you telling me that you’re the one who caused this mess?” Coach Hope asked Alan.

When Alan didn’t answer, Coach Hope turned to me.

“You’re all starting the second half. Let me deal with this, and I’ll be out in a moment.”

From what we could hear, my mom was no longer the scariest parent I knew. Coach Hope’s Marine Corps background made him loud and to the point. I looked around, and the whole team was smiling. I slowly came to realize that none of them liked Alan.

Then I saw Wyatt with my phone out. Our drama was being shown live on streaming video. Shit! I figured the situation couldn’t get any worse, so I decided to ignore it.

Coach Hope came out of the office and joined the team.

“I screwed up—big time. We’ll deal with that after the game. Right now, let’s spend our time talking about how we’ll get back into this thing,” he announced. Then he split us up into offense and defense so our coaches could talk to us.

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I wasn’t sure who I was madder at: Alan for his antics or Coach Hope for falling for them. Instead of tamping it down so I could focus on the game, I decided to use it. I felt that nervous feeling in my stomach and rushed to the bathroom, barely making it before throwing up. I turned around to find Wyatt filming it.

“You okay?” Wyatt asked, concerned.

“He’s more than okay. That just means he’s ready to play some football,” Ty said with a big smile. “I really want to beat these guys.”

“I’m going to need your help, but I’m ready to give it my best shot,” I said.

Coach Mason gathered the offense around.

“I wish we were either tied or ahead. In all my years, I can’t remember the last time I coached a game where we were down 29–7. I bet that Washington thinks we’re going to go pass-happy. We’re down three scores and a two-point conversion, so it’s not panic time. We may have to go to our two-minute offense, but I think we need to run the ball and make them respect that. I don’t want them in max-pass defense for the whole second half.

“What we can’t do is take our time. I want you to hustle every chance you get. On first downs, we’ll make substitutions to keep everyone fresh. If you see me holding up an orange card, I want to swap out the skill players.

“On clock stoppages, huddle up and catch your breath. I expect each of you to leave it all on the field,” he said and looked around. “Are there any questions?”

There were none, so I stepped over to Coach Rector and the defense.

“You ready to go?” Coach Rector asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“We’re making a change. I want to move you to defensive end and run a four-man front. We need to stop their run game, or this game is over,” he explained.

Coach Rector planned to pull Bryan and Brock Callahan and have them focus on offense. In their place would be Howard and Carl Lewis, two brothers who had moved in over the summer. They would join Dan Ball, Jim’s cousin, with me on the defensive line. Ray Quinn and Yuri would remain at outside linebacker with Tim in the middle. Nick Rake and Wayne Turk would be playing the corners, with Bert Nelson and Ed Pine as our safeties.

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