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“Your locker is over there,” Craig said, pointing to the one with his number eleven.

Lucky him. Matt was right next to him. They made a point of ignoring each other until Matt said something.

“What is that you’re wearing?”

“It’s my impact suit in case we go live today.”

“A what?” Matt asked.

David looked down and could see why Matt was confused. Football players didn’t usually wear skintight one-piece garments that covered them from ankle to neck.

“The outer covering is made from military-grade ballistic material. Inside is a jell-like substance that causes impacts to radiate over a larger area to substantially reduce the risk of injury.”

Matt still looked confused.

“When I play baseball, people like to throw at me when I’m at bat. It doesn’t hurt as much if I get hit with a ball, and the same goes for football.”

“Oh,” Matt said. “Where do I get mine?”

“I don’t think they’re available for the general public yet. They’re using this technology to make ballistic shirts for the military,” David explained.

“You can’t wear it,” Matt said.

“Why not?”

“It’s an unfair advantage.”

“It’s the same thing as linemen wearing knee braces or you wearing a football flak jacket. If you think it’s a big deal, go tell on me,” David challenged.

Matt was just acting jealous. Sometimes life wasn’t fair. If he had an older brother, Matt would know that.

David’s adversary gave up, so they both got dressed.

◊◊◊

David hadn’t noticed that Coach Stackhouse was watching them during warm-ups until she said something to Craig.

“Your routes aren’t crisp and tight. You’re rounding your cuts, not hitting your spot and making your turn. You’re trying to trap the ball with your body, not catching it with your hands. You need to shake it off and relax. Your body language says you’re too tense and tight.”

During the week, she’d made observations that made a lot of sense. At first, players had been skeptical, but now they were hanging on every word Coach Stackhouse uttered.

“What am I doing wrong with my cuts?” Craig asked.

“Plant your foot and turn. Don’t just run around the corner. A crisp, hard cut will get you open, and you’ll make more catches.”

Once she mentioned it, David saw what she was talking about. It was little stuff like that which could make a big difference in how well Craig played.

◊◊◊

After warm-ups, they went to the locker room. On the way, he spotted his family in the stands, minus his kids, who were at his townhouse. His mom had reasoned that the game would be too long to hold their interest. When that happened, all bets were off. He could just see Coby running naked, dodging security as he dashed across the field.

Coach Merritt gave them a brief pre-scrimmage talk before leaving the locker room. The plan was for everyone to play in at least one series. He reminded them to do their jobs and not be heroes because that was when bad things happened. His contention was that if everybody took care of what they were responsible for and allowed their teammates to do the same, they would be a much better team.

When facing a defense, David tried to spot players who wanted to cover for others, like a safety cheating up to support the run. When the safety was out of position, he was a prime target for a play-action pass because faking the run would draw him in closer to the line. David would send a receiver behind him, and they would either score or make a long gain.

When the team went out, the understudies dominated the first part of the scrimmage. Letting everyone get enough reps to show what they could do took up about two-thirds of the practice. He and Matt didn’t see the field until they were to run a two-minute drill to simulate the end of a half or the game. The goal was to score a touchdown.

On the first play, Matt dropped back, saw his primary receiver was covered and began his read progression. David was mentally screaming for Matt to throw the ball away because he saw Todd Davis, their transfer outside linebacker, was on a delayed blitz. If it had been a real game, they might have had to carry Matt off the field. But the referee blew the whistle as soon as he saw that Todd would tackle Matt.

“Line up! Line up!” Matt screamed because the clock was running.

Bill made a nifty move on the next play and got by his defender. Matt spotted him and threw a pretty pass. Bill would have scored if it hadn’t been for Mario Robinson, their safety, turning on the jets and making the tackle.

The ball was now inside the twenty, or red zone. They caught the defense thinking pass on the next play and let Marcus Eshete run a quick-hitter up the middle. He was finally tackled at the four-yard line with over a minute left on the clock.

Matt got everyone to the line of scrimmage and threw a slant over the middle to the slot receiver, Tyrell Mulford. He leaped in the air to make an impossible catch on an overthrown ball. As he came down, two defenders slammed into him. Tyrell’s body was hurled several yards before bouncing across the turf like a rock skimming a pond. When he finally came to rest, he lay in a crumpled heap and didn’t move.

It took several minutes for them to work on Tyrell before they could get him to his feet and help him to the sideline. It was clear that he was done for the day.

Matt’s confidence was shaken, and he threw three straight bad passes as the offense came up short.

The last drive was David’s. The offense began to click as the line opened some holes for the running game, allowing Marcus to have some nice gains. David found his rhythm and mixed in passes to methodically move the chains. With thirty seconds left, they had reached the fifteen-yard line.

‘Big Cat’ Collins, the freshman slot, had replaced Tyrell. David dropped back and was on the run when Percy Wilkes, defensive end, destroyed John Johnson, left tackle. David rolled out to extend the play and saw Big Cat come open. He was doing a victory dance as the ball flew to his receiver when Mario made an incredible break on the ball and intercepted it.

‘That didn’t work,’ was David’s brilliant thought as the defense celebrated.

◊◊◊

When they reached the locker room, Coach Merritt had them gather around.

“In football, talent is maximized by effective teaching. We obviously have failed you because, after a hundred times, we’re still doing the same thing as if it hasn’t been said 99 times before. Despite that, somehow, you haven’t been listening, so that’s on me. We obviously haven’t found a way to communicate with you,” Coach Merritt said.

David looked around, and the whole team had that ‘Oh, Fuck!’ look on their faces.

“I don’t think they even worked up a sweat, Coach,” Coach Farrow added.

“If we don’t play our ass off, they beat us in the opener,” Coach Thomas piled on.

“We can’t have that, can we?” Coach Merritt asked.

When no one responded, he asked louder, “Can we?!”

“No, sir!”

“Put your helmets back on and follow me,” Coach Merritt ordered.

The team filed out and grimly lined up. Waiting for them was Cassidy.

“Give them the full sixty minutes,” Coach Merritt told her.

“You heard the man! Begin!” Cassidy barked out like a drill sergeant.

One of the players collapsed after about fifteen minutes. Coach Merritt got into his face.

“We don’t sit on the field! Get your ass up! If you’re tired, take a knee! Otherwise, hand me your jersey!”

Somehow, the whole team, including Knackers, made it to the end. Some had to take a knee, but they got back up. Coach Merritt had everyone gather around.

“Next week, we’re going to pick up that pace in practice. Everything will be run with tempo, and you better have your heads right because I will see improvement before the next scrimmage. We’ll not get into the red zone and get blanked like we did today. I will see maximum effort out of all of you. Is that understood?”