They put together a workout routine for him.
As he and Cassidy were leaving, she took it from him.
“That’s the one they give all freshmen,” she said and tore it up.
“But I promised Coach Farrow.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll get you there faster,” Cassidy predicted.
“Did you see they want me to gain twenty pounds by the time spring football starts?” David worried.
“Your dork clothes might actually fit when that happens,” she teased and then got serious. “Swing by the nutritionist and pick up all the protein powders and other supplements you normally use. Now that you’re on the team, you don’t have to buy that stuff anymore.”
“When the RA took us on the tour of my dorm, she showed us a complete weight room in the basement. Word is that people use it first thing in the morning and then after classes; it’s not used most of the day. Do we want to use that in the afternoons?” David asked.
“What are you doing here?” asked a no-nonsense voice, interrupting their planning.
David turned and saw his friend and last year’s starting quarterback, Ridge Townsend. They both went in for a quick bro hug. David quickly reintroduced Ridge to Cassidy.
“Are you just visiting?” Ridge asked.
Cassidy excused herself to give David a chance to tell Ridge all that had happened to cause him to switch to USC.
When David finished, Ridge shook his head in disgust.
“The story’s been a hot item in the college football media for about a week now. Hell, a few of them have been having a field day with the ‘Where’s David?’ speculation. But even though most of them said USC was a possibility, no one’s heard a whisper that you actually landed here.
“But they didn’t even give you a scholarship?” Ridge continued.
David shrugged. He’d heard from his publicist that there’d been a media buzz about his whereabouts, but he hadn’t paid too much attention to it. David had been busy matriculating and getting his living situation set up. And frankly, he thought to himself, he really didn’t give that much of a damn. He decided he was probably still burnt out from filming the three movies over the last several months.
“They said they were out of them, and they would give me one as soon as someone left.”
“Bullshit. I know for a fact they have scholarships available,” Ridge said. Then he had another thought. “I bet Matt threw a fit. He was told he wouldn’t have any real competition at quarterback.”
“Well, that’s something else that no one knows. I’m walking on to play defense.”
David chuckled when he heard the string of profanity that Ridge uttered.
“That sounds just like them. When I announced that I was going to go to the NFL, I was told I could use the facilities but not to expect any coaching. My agent is going to have to hire a strength-and-conditioning coach and is going to get someone to get me ready for the NFL combine. I might have to hire receivers to work out with,” Ridge explained.
“Why don’t we work out together?” David suggested. “I already told Coach Farrow I planned to follow my own practice regimen until spring football. Cassidy can finally get you in shape, and I’d be willing to play receiver if you spend some time teaching me what it takes to be a college quarterback.”
Ridge agreed to meet David and Cassidy tomorrow afternoon at The Palace to work out. Ridge said he had to talk to his agent, and the guy would want his people involved. Ridge looked at it as cost savings. His agent wanted to hire a bunch of people to get him in debt and lock Ridge into using him for his first contract.
David waved goodbye. He had to get running because there were baseball tryouts for the hopeful walk-ons before practice today.
When David arrived at the baseball facilities, Coach Burris, the volunteer assistant coach, directed him to where he could get dressed. Nine other guys were already getting their gear on. David picked out a locker and did the same.
He’d brought his own gear, including the protective underlayer that he’d gotten from Range Sports. The owner of the company, Devin Range, had been the first one to hire him for a big modeling contract. When David was a freshman in high school, Devin and his marketing people had made him the face of their company. David had had to let that go when he entered college to avoid any issues with the shoe company that sponsored USC. He had no interest in running afoul of the NCAA.
The protective gear had been developed by Range Sports in conjunction with another company that had a defense contract to develop ballistic shirts for the armed forces. They’d sent him a prototype of the equipment in his senior year when he’d been targeted by other teams’ pitchers. At one point, he’d considered quitting high school ball because of the risk of injury.
Now, when a ball was either thrown at him or fouled off, he hardly felt the impact. The technology dispersed the force, so it all but prevented an injury. The underlayer fit him like tights or a second skin, and he wore his baseball uniform over the top of it.
The guy next to him nodded hello.
“I didn’t see you here on Saturday,” the guy said with an accent.
David didn’t think it was Australian or English, but something that sounded similar.
“I was told to show up today. I didn’t know I was supposed to be here Saturday,” he said.
“My da would say that it be sounding like there’s a bit of a kerfuffle about to be kicking off if you’re gate-crashing. You know why we’re here today, yeah?”
“To try out for the baseball team,” David answered. “Did they have tryouts on Saturday?”
“About fifty of us showed up, yeah. Only this lot was asked back.”
“David,” he said as he held out his hand.
“Seamus.”
With Seamus’s accent and looks, David suspected he was what they called ‘black Irish.’ He’d read somewhere that Spanish invaders married into Irish society and created a new class of Irish who were immediately recognizable by their dark hair and complexion. He wasn’t sure if that was true or not, but it would explain the guy’s black hair. The light blue eyes, though, together with the accent, gave his origins away.
Even David had to admit that Seamus was a good-looking guy. He imagined that with his Irish accent, women would throw themselves at him.
Coach Deneau walked into the locker room and had everyone gather around.
“I want to thank you for trying out. We wanted to get a second look, and in one case, first look, before we make a decision on who we’ll invite to practice with the team. If you do well enough, you might even start or, at the very least, make the traveling squad.
“Here is how it’s going to work. We’ll do the usual stuff like time you. Then we will try you out in the field. Finally, we’ll have you bat,” Coach Deneau shared.
“How many are you planning to take?” one of the guys asked.
“One outfielder and one catcher. Eight of you are fighting for the outfielder spot. You’d all be advised to show us your best effort.”
“Why did David only have to show up today?” Seamus asked.
Their coach got a pained expression.
“We’d penciled David in to take one of the spots because of his background. He played on the USA Under-18 National team and was their team captain. He was also the Pan-Am Games MVP. Beating him out for the last spot isn’t going to be easy, but the coaching staff agreed that you all showed enough on Saturday that we should give you a shot.”
’Frick!’ David thought.
Not that he expected them to simply hand him a spot. But if he’d known that this was going to be an open competition, he might at the very least have spent yesterday in a batting cage. He hadn’t done anything baseball-related since his last game in high school.
What calmed him some was that he’d worked out seriously while filming. He’d done it because his roles were action-related. People assume that when an action sequence is shot, there are many cuts. However, his director, Chubby Feldman, was the best in the business for a reason. He liked to shoot them nonstop from beginning to end when he could. Most had to be done multiple times. If David hadn’t been in world-class shape, he might not have survived some days.