Page 5 of Game Plan
2
HAWK
I stretchedmy arms over my head until my knuckles gave a satisfying crack. My mom hated the sound. She would have given me a lecture on the pseudo-science behind the dangers of knuckle-cracking. Or just told me to stop it. Turns out, that’s all bullshit.
I flopped down in a chair, let out a gusty sigh and listened to the guys seated around the table.
"Can you believe the timing?" Abraham 'Bam' Clinton sat to my left. He was shorter than me and not quite as big, but the intensity in his expression made him formidable on the field and off.
I shrugged. "It is what it is." Losing the head coach near the end of the preseason was bullshit. It would throw off our game if we let it. So we wouldn't let it. Simple as that.
I turned to face the team, hands behind my head as though I wasn't as rattled as they were.
"Coach Franks had no choice but to take care of his family," I said. "Coach Quinn has been with the Humpbacks for almost as long. He'll do fine."
I wish I was as sure as I sounded. Wayne Quinn had been offensive coordinator for longer than I'd been with theHumpbacks. He and I hadn't always seen eye to eye. As leader of the defensive team, I didn't alwayshaveto, but now we'd need to find common ground, for the good of the team.
"He better," Bam muttered. "This is our year. I can feel it."
"You feel it every year," Chase McKinney said. As our wide receiver, he was tall and lean. His usual expression was a smile. Sometimes because he was joking and sometimes because he was waiting for someone to fall for a practical joke he'd set up. When you knew him well enough, you could tell which smile was which. This time, it was a genuine tease, laced with hope. Of course, who didn't want to win the Down Under Bowl?
"And every year we get better and closer," Bam reminded us. "So, this year, we kick ass." He nodded around the table at us.
I jerked my head toward him. "What he said. There's no reason we can't win this year. We have the best coaching team there is and the best fucking players."
"Not to mention the best fucking quarterback, eh, Hawk?" Chase elbowed me on the arm.
"Absolutely," I agreed, no ego lacing my tone. Iearnedmy title. Ego was for those who didn’t work hard.
I worked my ass off to get better and stay focused. I had my off days, like anyone, but I did my best not to let it get the better of me. The Humpbacks couldn't afford to have me slip up too badly. Not just for the sake of winning, but because of the bad publicity that would come with it. The press were like a bunch of circling vultures, ready to pounce on a morsel for the right story.
That was why I did interviews as often as I could. If you keep the press on side, you might be lucky and avoid them turning on you when you slip up.
Yeah, okay, I wasn’t that naive, but it didn't hurt to have good publicity out there to balance the bullshit the tabloids served out. If you believed a word they said, I'd slept with half the women in Lowball Bay, especially the married ones. That kindof publicity was irritating as shit, but it didn't cause too much harm. Most people were smart enough to look past that kind of crap. Right?
"And the most humble," Chase said.
I gave him a smirk. "You're just jealous you're not nicknamed God's Gift." I nodded down the table at Ollie Tucker. Recruited in his first year in university, he was tall and muscular, with blonde hair and bright blue eyes that apparently women found appealing.
If he wasn't playing pro ball, he'd be in the movies. When he was first drafted for the offensive team, he was so shy he spent most of the time looking at his shoelaces. These days he was too busy fending off women's panties and marriage proposals to keep his head down.
Tucker grimaced in my direction. "Worst. Nickname. Ever."
"Becauseyou're a virgin," Chase teased.
"I fucking am not," Ollie retorted. "It's just a shit nickname. I'll leave the praying for a win to Bam. I'll work my ass off instead."
Bam shrugged. "No reason we can't do both. Cover all the bases, so to speak." He fingered the cross tattooed to his neck.
"Wrong ball game." Chase grinned as he stood.
Bam rolled his eyes. "No shit, really?"
"Really." Chase pretended he missed Bam's sarcasm. "That's not a bat you have in your hand every night before you go to sleep." He shot Bam a sly grin.
"It's probably a Bible," Ollie said. He looked surprised he'd actually gotten in a dig.
"At least I can read," Bam retorted. “And at least you acknowledge it could be mistaken for a bat in my hand.”
