Page 71 of Hard Count
He stared at the ceiling as he tried to get his body to connect with his head and get the fuck up.
His body always did this on game days. The difference was that it rarely attached itself to anything specific. He always had a blank drive to perform.
Today felt different.
He tried not to think too hard about it.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, moving into the routine before his mind could follow.
By the time he reached the kitchen of the suite, the light had shifted just enough to outline the windows. He made coffee and poured it into his protein shake.
***
At the facility, Tank didn’t bother pretending Piper was okay.
“Looking dialed, bro,” he said as Piper walked in.
“It’s game day, of course I fucking am.”
Piper grabbed his tape and started wrapping his wrist. He pulled it tighter than necessary.
“They’ll bring pressure early,” Piper said.
“I know.”
“Make sure you’re set before the snap.”
“I’m always set.”
“Last week you weren’t.”
Tank paused.
“That was one rep.”
“It was two.”
Tank gave him a look. He wasn’t annoyed at Piper, but was aware of the vibe.
“I’m set today,” he said.
Piper nodded.
“Good.”
He stood, dropped the tape, and picked up a ball.
“Go throw,” Tank said.
Piper threw the ball and it came out clean, sharp, and controlled.
His ribs didn’t agree with the second throw. He could feel a small flare. He had taken a hit late in practice on Thursday but ignored it. He adjusted his stance and kept going.
By the sixth practice throw, it was gone. Or far enough away to not matter.
***
The first drive of the game ended in a field goal. Score: L.A. 3, Denver 0.
