Page 46 of Chasing the Rush
“WATCH THE TACKLE’Sfeet here,” I say regarding the clip playing on my iPad. For emphasis, I nudge Luca’s muscular arm, and he intently watches what I’m showing him.
We’re eighteen days into camp now. Only three days away from the start of preseason. And Luca’s still here, by God. True, Moriarty still hasn’t reached new terms with the organization, so I’m not sure if Luca’s continued presence here can be chalked up to the obvious, impressive progress he’s made at practices. But I certainly like to think it is.
For eleven days now, practices have been no holds barred. Full pads. Brutal tackling. Juices flowing on high for everyone. Nobody can claim they’re rusty any longer. If you fuck up, that’s on you. No excuses. Which is why I’ve compiled an extra-long series of clips for my latest one-on-one film session with Luca.
It’s after hours, so we’re alone in this dimly lit classroom. My father and his closest staff are probably hard at work upstairs on the third floor, since time is running out for them to decide which cuts to make before the upcoming first pre-season game. But down here on the second floor with Luca, it feels like we’re the only two people in the whole building. Perhaps even in the world.
The current video ends and I play the next one—a clip from today’s backbreaking practice. In the clip, Luca did everything right, once again. In fact, Luca was so damned impressive in this clip, any linebacker coach could use it as a teaching tool.
I point at my screen. “Why were you so ready to spin around the tackle that time but not the time before?”
Luca shrugs. “His stance. He had light feet that time. He gave himself away.”
“Exactly.” I fist-bump him. “But he gave himself away the prior time, too. You just didn’t know what you were looking for. Here, let me show you.” I play the prior clip and compare and contrast, and the beaming smile Luca is wearing by the time I finish my analysis tells me he totally gets it. Of course he does. He’s a smart man. And when he actually focuses that brilliant mind of his, he’s unstoppable.
I cue the next video and we watch Luca kicking ass and taking names, yet again. “Now, see, you were a brick wall there.”
Luca beats a comical fist to his chest and growls. “Nobody gets past Luca Maguire.”
“Oh yeah? Funny you should say that, because on the very next rushing play …”
He laughs. “Shit.”
“See, you sucked ass at reading the QB’s eyes that time.”
I show Luca the clip, and he not only agrees with my assessment, he also scribbles himself a reminder in his trusty notebook and murmurs, “I’ll get it right next time, Coach.”
Oh, my heart.“In fairness, you’ve improved exponentially in this area. I picked a rare clip where you sucked to prove a point, but I could have pulled four of you doing it really well.”
Luca waves a dismissive hand. “Don’t show me what I did right too much. That might lull me into a false sense of security.”
Goddammit. If I thought combative, begrudging, cocky Luca was attractive to me early on, then this version of him is damn-near irresistible. At this point, I’m so freaking attracted to this hunk of a man, I can’t stop pressing my fingernails into my palms to keep myself from saying or doing something out of bounds.
I return to the iPad, and we watch several more clips in rapid succession, which is when I suddenly realize all the remaining videos I’ve compiled for Luca today feature him doing everything right. That’s how infrequently this man makes mistakes these days.
“You know what?” I say, laying the device face down on the desk. “I think the time has come for me to share my spreadsheet with you.”
“No.Seriously?”
“We’ve still got lots of work to do, so don’t get complacent on me. But you’ve made so much progress, I think you’re ready to absorb and maximize that information now.”
Luca hoots like he just won the lottery, even though he’s got no idea what he’s in for, while I pull out my laptop from my bag. A moment later, I begin meticulously walking him through the analysis on my spreadsheet in extreme detail.
“This is pretty intense, Chelsea.”
“The devil’s in the details, baby.”
He cocks his head. “What does that phrase even mean? Details are devilish?”
I pause to consider. “I think it means the antidote to the devil is attention to detail. I don’t know. All I know is details are my all-time favorite thing, so maybe it meansI’mdevilish.” I wiggle my eyebrows, and Luca cracks up.
“I thought spreadsheets were your all-time favorite thing.”
“Detailed spreadsheets, actually. That’s like my two greatest loves having extremely passionate sex and making a baby.” I laugh, but it’s plain to see the mention of sex was a mistake. Atitillating tease. A subconscious one on my part, probably, but a tease nonetheless. I clear my throat. “Let’s get back to work.”
“Hang on. I need a ‘fun’ break, Coach.” He’s looking at me like he wants to swallow me whole. “Tell me what you love so much about these spreadsheets of yours. Why do they get you off the way they do?”
I blush. “I didn’t say they get me off.”
