“Next we have Coach Stork, also formerly of Beverly. He’ll be in charge of the defensive line, linebackers, and coach the freshman team.”
He looked fresh out of college and was a big boy. Coach Stork had obviously played some college ball.
“Now I want the offensive coordinators to come up. Coach Diamond will continue as our Offensive Coordinator and will be in charge of the skill positions. Coach Stevens is returning as our Offensive Line, Special Teams, and JV Coach.”
“Today is about conditioning. Last time we did this, it was for team-building experience, and if I remember correctly, a couple of smartasses worked as a team to get the freshmen and sophomores off easy. That is not happening this time, gentlemen! Mr. Dawson, get up here!” Coach Hope barked.
“What is our goal for this year?” Coach Hope asked.
“To win State, Sir!” I barked back.
“To do that do I need you to give me your best effort in everything you do?”
“Yes, Sir!”
“Do you think you’re the best athlete on this football team?” he asked.
I thought about it for a moment, trying to figure out what Coach might be asking me. Did he expect me to give a team-oriented answer, or did he just challenge me? I decided he wanted to make an example out of me, so I answered truthfully.
“Yes, Sir!”
Coach turned to the team and looked at all of them in turn.
“Do any of you think you can outrun Mr. Dawson?” he asked.
Ty, Ed, Mike, and Jake all raised their hands. I was worried about Ty. He might have a step on me.
“Mr. Dawson, are you willing to put your money where your mouth is, so to speak?” Coach Hope asked.
“Coach, I can beat any or all of them, so I’m up for the challenge,” I shot back.
Coach Diamond brought out a duffle bag and handed it to Coach Hope. Coach Hope gave me an evil grin.
He pulled out a pink skirt and matching t-shirt.
“Would any of you like to see Mr. Dawson wear this outfit all day tomorrow?” Coach Hope asked.
Wow! I thought these guys were my friends.
“I don’t think they like you much, Mr. Dawson,” Coach Hope said, and I had to agree. “Would you like to get a little payback?”
“Yes, Sir!”
I think some of them regretted joining in on the jeers. Tim and Jim, in particular, looked worried. They knew if I got serious about it, I could do some damage.
“Good, so you aren’t going to go easy on them?” he asked.
“No, Sir!”
“Lead them in sixty minutes of hell!”
“You heard Coach! Jim, Tim, line them up and let’s get started,” I directed.
I hid a little smile when all the coaches found a shady spot, kicked back and watched as I ran the routines Cassidy had taught us. Cassidy Hope had grown up on Marine bases almost all her life. She had learned the exercises they used to turn recruits into Marines. Most of us had been doing what Cassidy called sixty minutes of hell for the past year and a half. I didn’t expect this to overtax any of the people who had worked out during the summer. I suspected Coach Hope had done this to get us warmed up for what he planned for us next.
Since morning practice was scheduled for three hours, there would be two more hours for Coach’s evil plan to unfold. When we finished, he sent us to get water and then had us do some stretching to warm down. I noticed that my uncle had lost his breakfast two-thirds of the way through. I was happy to see that Roc looked to be in shape, and the guys he had brought from the farm seemed okay as well. It was now time for Phase II of our first day of conditioning.
“Mr. Dawson, I want you to take them on a thirty-minute run. If any of them beat you, I have a skirt you can wear. I want you to go as far as you can in that timeframe. However far Mr. Dawson runs is how far you all have to run,” Coach Hope announced to groans from most of the team.
We walked over to the track, and Coach gave me front inside position. Coach Stevens blew his whistle, and I settled into a solid pace. I wasn’t surprised when Tim eased up beside me as we ran. There was a lead group of about ten guys that were with me for the first eight laps (two miles). I glanced over at Tim.
“You ready?” I asked.
“Aw, shit, David!” he complained as I began to push a faster pace.
Over the next eight laps, I lost all but two runners. One I didn’t recognize, and the other was, surprisingly, Roc. The guy I didn’t recognize was a smaller boy who looked suspiciously like he might be one of the members of the cross-country team. I suspected he was a ringer Coach Hope had brought in.
What confounded them was that I used my speed-training drills where I would run at a steady pace for some time, and then increase the tempo by ten percent. I would then slow back to my usual pace. If you hadn’t practiced it, your legs would soon be gone. It was designed to push your limits and improve your speed. At the twenty-five minute mark, Roc was done and cross-country boy was breathing hard. That was when I began to really push it.
According to the unwritten rules, if you were a slower runner, you had to stay out in the outer lanes, so by now, the whole track was littered with football players in various forms of distress. Cross-country boy lasted two laps at my new pace before he collapsed on the side of the track. Coach Hope just shook his head when I came around alone. I’d forgotten to ask what I got, besides some payback, if I won.
I expected we had more conditioning in store, and I suspected it would be sprints, so I eased back and ran the last few minutes at a leisurely warm-down pace. I got water and stretched while everyone else finished. I was proud of Jim and Tim when they went back out on the track after they finished and helped the guys who struggled. When everyone was done, Coach Hope announced forty-yard sprints.
They had it set up so we would run two timed sprints. The top eight would then run two more. The top four another two, and then the top two would run head-to-head. As I predicted, Ty and I were in the finals. His best time so far today was 4.55, while mine was 4.62. I worried that I would lose, and everyone gathered around to watch just that. Moose got everyone fired up.
“I know you’re tired. Your legs have to be hurting. I want to remind you of something: Fourth Quarter, Baby! We’re down by a score and need you two to get us home. Are you going to run your best time of the day?”
“Yes, Sir!” we both yelled and lined up.
I took a couple of deep calming breaths to help me relax. It was counterintuitive, but the more relaxed you are, the faster you can run. On the whistle, Ty got a slight jump on me. I watched him dig hard to beat me. I focused on my form and what I had been taught by my speed coaches. I had a longer stride, and my training kicked in. Soon I was even with Ty. I knew I had him when he glanced over. With ten yards to go, it was all over, and Ty knew it. Coach Hope made a point to high-five me.
I had matched Ty’s best time of the day at 4.55, a personal best for me. At the Elite 11 Camp, I had run a 4.69. I attributed the improvement to my working out with the weighted vest Bo Harrington had given me. Running in just shorts and a t-shirt made me feel like I was flying.
When we were done, I was exhausted. I almost dreaded seeing what the coaches had in store for us at this afternoon’s practice.
◊◊◊
After I showered, I checked my cell phone. Eighteen messages. I needed my personal assistant to take care of something like this. I saw he had called, and so returned his call first.
“This is Brandon,” he answered.
“Hey, I saw you called.”
“Yes, thanks for calling me back. Kendal received an offer for you to do a movie over Christmas Break called The Secret Circle. They need someone who can pitch for some baseball scenes and act like a jerk. Kendal said it was right in your wheelhouse.”
“Tell Kendal to bite me and remind her we have to do the publicity for Star Academy, so it can’t conflict with that,” I said. Then it came to me where I had heard that title before. “Wasn’t The Secret Circle a TV show a couple of years ago? It had something to do with witchcraft, if memory serves.”