Page 15 of Chasing the Rush
“Raul?” Bellamy says with a gesture toward Coach Martinez, the linebacker coach. “You’re the only one here who believes we’ve got any chance of snuffing the adrenaline junkie out of him and turning him into a player with some actual discipline like his big brother, so I’ll let you tell the group about him.”
Big brother?Instantly, my mind races to Luca Maguire, since he’s an edge rusher with a famous big brother. But that can’t be, no fucking way, given his last name. My father would never in a million years let a Maguire onto his roster, even if it’s only for training camp, and even if it’s only to light a fire under his best player.
As Raul lists off some key information about “the guy,” I’m on pins and needles. Waiting with bated breath for him to name the guy or supply another detail that cements or hopefully negates my hunch. But unfortunately every bit of new information only makes it more and more likely Luca Maguire is the player in question. He’s a fourth-year outside linebacker, Raul tells the group. Age twenty-six. An edge rusher who showed “superstar potential” in college … atNebraska. But then flailed after an injury and never lived up to his potential.
At this point, I’m on the cusp of hurling with anxiety. My mind races for another fourth-year edge rusher from Nebraska with a famous big brother, but no matter how hard my brain tries to create a long list of potential candidates, there’s only one name that squarely fits the bill on all counts:Luca Maguire.
“His first two years as a Cornhusker,” Bellamy interjects, “he was an unstoppable force. If he hadn’t gotten injured andbecome a head case after that, he would have gone in the first round of the draft.”
Raul agrees and adds, “The kid was a wrecking ball before his knee injury. Unstoppable. Even better than Moriarty, if you ask me.”
Fuck. It’s definitely Luca. Moriarty was a year ahead of Luca in college, but once Luca entered the scene and started playing immediately as a freshman—a very big deal—the comparisons to Moriarty came fast and furious. And pretty much always, like Coach Martinez said, fans and talking heads alike agreed Luca Maguire was even better than Moriarty.
“It’s true we’ll be his third team in four years,” Raul says. “But I attribute that to his lack of discipline, not his lack of skill and athleticism. Last season, he showed flashes of brilliance that reminded the world he’s a Maguire, through and through.”
And there it is.Confirmation this is going to be my worst nightmare. I already knew the incoming player had to be Luca, but hearing it confirmed out loud makes my stomach revolt and my heart drop precipitously into my toes nonetheless.Shit.
“If we can get Luca to knuckle down and stop clowning around so much,” Raul continues, “I think he could return to the unbelievable form he showed at Nebraska.”
I look down at my shaking hands on my keyboard, practically hyperventilating with stress. After all these years, I’m going to come face-to-face with Luca Maguire again. What if he sees me and blurts something in front of my father like, “Hey, I remember you!” What if he tells his new teammates, “You’re never going to believe this, but the head coach’s daughter once dry humped me like a feral dog on a leg.” My God, there are at least a thousand things Luca could say to embarrass me and torpedo the long path to my big dreams within mere seconds of his arrival here!
“Are we completely sure his prior knee injury is a nonissue?” the defensive coordinator asks.
The team physician nods. “He’s been fully cleared for years now. Whatever issues he’s been having, they’re not physical.”
“I truly believe,” Raul says, “Luca’s problems are all mostly mental. Basically, he’s an adrenaline junkie with low impulse control who lacks focus. True, he was all those things back in college, too. But back then, he used that stuff to his advantage. Frankly, I’m excited to try to return him to his past form.”
“Knock yourself out, Raul,” Dad says dryly. “At least, till Moriarty comes to camp. After that, he’s on his own.”
“Well, let’s not forget about his famous, marketable last name,” Bellamy says. “If by some miracle Raul and his staff can turn this kid around, it might be worth it to put him on the roster as a business decision. I’m sure we’d sell a whole lot of ‘Maguire’ jerseys.”
The defensive coordinator—a strategic, no-nonsense guy who’s worked under Dad for the past ten years—snickers. “Walker, if you think Jack Parker would allow that last name on his fifty-three-man roster, you don’t know him at all.”
Coach Martinez, the linebacker coach, adds, “Add the fact that Luca’s a class clown, which isn’t Jack’s favorite personality type, and I’d say Luca’s got his work cut out for him to make it through the first week of training camp, let alone all three.”
“Yep,” the defensive coordinator agrees. “All things considered, I’m betting this kid’s got less than a snowball’s chance in hell of making it to the first preseason game, let alone to the regular season.”
I feel kind of bad for Luca, if that’s the case. But admittedly, my panic about him coming here and destroying my reputation and career goals is more important to me in this moment than hoping Luca performs miracles at his third NFL team in four years.
I’ve been following Luca’s career every step of the way, so I know enough to agree he’s a head case now. Probably a lost cause, honestly, despite what Raul said. So, it’s not like his failure here and the rapid exit that will follow will be out of the blue or unfair to him. On the contrary, the fact that my father is allowing him to come here at all, no matter the reason, is a massively generous thing. And once Luca’s here, it sounds like all I have to do is avoid him till Moriarty signs his new deal, which should be in a week at most, given the stats on holdouts, and I’ll come out of this unscathed.
“All I’m saying,” Bellamy says, “is that all things being equal, I’m glad to have a Maguire here to light a fire under Moriarty’s ass. Especially the one who everyone said was even better than him in college. And, hey, if by some miracle, Luca eventually proves himself worthy of a roster spot, my marketing team will be able to capitalize on his last name like gangbusters.”
Scattered replies erupt, but Dad’s voice rises up from the din.
“You’re all underestimating me. I don’t have any beef with Luca Maguire. I’m a professional, guys. All that matters to me is turning the Mastodons into a winner, through any means necessary. Which is why I told Walker last night, yes, I’m open to bringing Luca here, if only briefly. If Luca proves he’s exactly the guy I think he is, or if he becomes too big a distraction with his showy personality, I’ll cut his ass, no matter how marketable his last name might be. Likewise, if he earns a spot, I’ll put him through, just like anyone else.” He shrugs. “All I care about is winning football games. Period.”
It’s a lovely speech. And mostly true. But I know in my heart the part about Dad not caring that Luca’s a Maguire is total bullshit. Dad despises the Maguire name as much as I do. In fact, I think it’s fair to say hearing that name gives him mild PTSD-like symptoms, every time. But what else canhe possibly say in this moment, when his star edge rusher is holding out and his boss clearly thinks bringing Luca here will shake things up?
My mind is racing.
Luca, Luca, Luca.
I can’t believe I’m going to see him again. Albeit from a distance. Obviously, I can’t get close to Luca and let him see me and then quite possibly recognize me and blab about what we did.
Shoot.
I just realized Luca, a linebacker, coming to camp means I can’t help Coach Martinez, the linebacker coach, like I’ve been begging Dad and Raul to let me do. Although the good news is it sounds like Luca will exit quickly, so hopefully, by the time Dad and Raul let me shift into that role, assuming they do, Luca will almost certainly be long gone by then.
