Maybe begging to save her?
My mind can’t get past that spark I saw there, that unspoken plea that I know is there.
I take a peek out of the corner of my eye to see Landon sitting two rows in front of me on the bus staring at the iPad in his hand as he watches scrimmage videos.
When we get to the stadium, it’s our usual routine, pre-game rituals, praying, taping ankles, talking to the offensive coordinator and the starting offensive line. Going over plays. It’s a good couple of hours before we take to the field. When we do, it’s all business. There’s usually very little joking around and game faces in place.
I know what I can do on the field. I know where plays can happen and where they can’t. I know the strong guys, and I know the ones who tend to get caught up. Landon’s strong, he rarely gets caught up and pays attention. I can trust that if I throw to him, he’s gonna be there. Same with Holden. I know where both of them are at all times and, yeah, I favor them on the field because of that.
I’m having an amazing game throwing for over 366 yards so far. My passing is spotless even though the guys I favor on the field are covered a lot. In the first and second quarters I’ve run the ball three times already.
Half-way through the third quarter, I call the play, looking left, then right, seeing the boys poised and ready. The ball snaps, I take two steps back, then another. I see Landon mid-field but then I’m jarred from the left, blindsided, feeling the reverberation through my skull. Right before my head snaps back, I see Colton on the ground when he should have been blocking me. My head snaps back, my helmet goes flying and then next thing I remember about twenty guys are around me.
If I could have kicked Colton’s ass right then, I would.
That one knocked me pretty good. I can’t even stand up without seeing stars.
They don’t let me off the field without strapping me to a backboard. I do see Colton as I’m being hauled into the locker room and make him come closer to give him a piece of my mind. “You need to protect me in the pocket, bitch tits.”
He says nothing.
Fucker.
Blinking, I try to focus. It does nothing and I still can’t see.
The coaches swarm around me after that as does our team physician. I don’t think he knows what the fuck he’s doing half the time. He’s dramatic and stupid if you ask me. I’m fine. But I’m also bleeding from a cut above my eye. I think it’s making me a little loopy.
Once they get me to the locker room on that fucking backboard that I find completely unnecessary, Larry Benton, our team doctor, is in my face asking me all kinds of questions but I have no answers. I can’t even see him let alone answer him. Everything’s blurry.
Coach Lander, our head coach, pats my shoulder. “Let’s get you checked out, kid.” He smiles when I squint at him. “Just precautionary.”
They make me take a ride to the hospital and it’s uneventful. Mostly people in my face asking me questions I probably didn’t know before the game. About four nurses surround me with two more coaches from my team all making sure I’m all right.
The do some scans, x-rays and a neurological exam. After a CT scan and x-rays, it’s decided pretty early I have a concussion but nothing more.
They give me some medication, tell me I’m going to be monitored for a while, and when it kicks in, the pain in my chest eases and I’m feeling good.
Flirty.
I laugh suddenly, about the time my body starts feeling warm from the medicine they gave me and nudge Benton with my elbow. He rolls his eyes when I point to the nurse because he knows I’m about to say something stupid.
“Hey, baby,” I say to her, winking with the eye they’re not stitching up. The nurse giggles as she continues her cursory exam.
Saylor, who I didn’t know was there, shakes his head when she leaves. I apparently offered to show her my penis, only I don’t remember that. Apparently I did hit my head pretty damn good cause I’m saying stuff I wouldn’t usually say.
I don’t remember the bus ride back to Eugene. At all. I apparently slept the entire way on Saylor’s lap. He treats me good.
When we pull up to the stadium he shakes my shoulders. “Time to get up, sleeping beauty.”
I sit up noticing the bus is nearly empty. “Did we win, coco puff?”
Saylor laughs. I call him coco puff sometimes. Mostly when I’m drunk. Or obviously when I’m concussed. “Yeah, we did.” He stands and reaches for my hand. “Now am I gonna have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you home?”
Sitting there for a few minutes I sigh when I see that we are in fact the last people left on the bus. He nudges my knee. “I have to piss man, get up.”