The ball was snapped from center, and Drew ran through a gigantic hole the defensive line made for him and reached out to grab the QB’s jersey to pull him down onto the turf. Something went wrong between “You’re mine, dumbass” and the sack dance he’d been planning on.
Drew’s world crumpled in less than five seconds. His cleats stuck in the turf, his arm wrenched at an unnatural angle as he tried to yank another man off of his feet, and the ripping, popping sound he heard from his shoulder was so loud that he wondered (before he fell onto the turf, overwhelmed with pain) if the fans heard it in the stands.
Bodies crashed into each other all around him. One of Dallas’s linemen barely missed stepping onto his leg, and Drew curled into a protective ball. He could see his teammates frantically gesturing to the Sharks sidelines for the team doctor and the trainers as the play ended. Derrick dropped to his knees, unbuckled Drew’s chin strap, and eased his helmet off his head.
“Take it easy, McCoy. We’re here.” Derrick shielded Drew with his body. “We got you. Breathe, buddy.”
Seth helped him ease Drew onto his back. “You’re going to be okay,” he said. “Terrell got his ass for ya, guy.”
A couple of seconds later, they heard Terrell shouting at the Dallas QB, “There’s more where that came from, candy ass.”
“That’s my boy,” Derrick said approvingly.
“Damn right,” Seth said. “C’mon, buddy. Breathe.”
Drew was in so much pain it was hard to get a breath. He grabbed his now-limp arm with his other hand as the doctor and the trainers dropped to their knees around him.
“Breathe, Drew,” the doc said. He was already gesturing for the paramedics and their rolling gurney. Drew managed to pull some air into his lungs. He could see his teammates gathered around. Some had taken a knee. Others appeared to be praying. He’d done that maneuver a thousand times during games before. He wondered how it went so wrong today. Coach Stewart’s face swam into his vision.
“McCoy, I’ll meet you at the hospital. I’m not going back to Seattle without you,” he said. He squeezed Drew’s gloved hand as the paramedics transferred him to the gurney, strapped him in, and pulled up the wheels. “You’re going to be fine,” he said.
“Thanks, Coach.”
Through the haze of hellish pain, Drew knew the coach was lying through his teeth, but he wasn’t going to argue about it right now. He had no control over his arm. It wasn’t a dislocation or a sprain. He made the extra effort to flash a “thumbs up,” and he heard applause from the stands as he was taken off the field and loaded into an ambulance. The paramedics looped a cannula beneath his nose for oxygen, made sure the gurney was secured, and the ambulance screamed through the streets of Dallas on the way to the hospital.
“Do any of you guys have a cell?” Drew asked.
“I do,” one of the paramedics said. “What’s up?”
“Will you call my parents?” He gave the number. The guy dialed and held the phone up to Drew’s ear.
His mom answered on the second ring. “Mom, I’ll call you as soon as I know something,” he said.
He could hear the tears in her voice. “I’ll get there as soon as I can, honey.”
“Don’t.” Shit, he hurt, but he had to get this out. “I want to see you, but come to Seattle instead. I’ll pay for the ticket.”
“We love you.”
“Love you too.”
A FEW HOURS later, Drew’s worst fears were confirmed via MRI: He had a torn labrum and a partial rotator cuff tear too. “Your shoulder’s a mess, buddy,” the team doctor told him. “You’ll be having surgery in Seattle as soon as we can get you back home.”
Drew was pretty doped up on big-time painkillers, but he knew what the doctor’s words meant: He was done for the season. Even worse, his pro football career might be over.
Chapter Fifteen
* * *
WHILE DREW WAS doing battle on the turf in Dallas, Kendall staked out a place on the Miners sidelines at Lambeau Field and patted her coat pocket to make sure she still had her phone. Green Bay was known for cold. Today was no exception. It was mid-October, snow flurries were predicted, and she was already freezing her ass off.
She didn’t want to be here today, but she was still employed by the Miners. She was somewhat amused by the questions she’d received in team press conferences this week about the fact the team had stepped up their search for a GM candidate. Considering the fact she’d told them to do so, it wasn’t news to her. There were also leaks from within the Miners organization. The censored version of her colleagues’ remarks to her during their discussion brought an on-site surprise visit from the league commissioner two days ago. If things were bad before, they’d officially hit rock bottom after a few of her colleagues were told the league was opening an official investigation. There would be hell to pay.