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I appreciated that the coaches said that those who wanted to could stay and practice football. It gave my Lincoln teammates people to practice against. The guy who had taken a giant step forward was my half brother Phil. Last year, he’d assumed that everything would be handed to him because he was related to me. At some point, the light had switched on, and he realized that he had to work to be good.
I believe the smartest move the boosters had made was to hire Connor Fletcher, our outside strength and conditioning trainer. Connor had transformed my teammates’ bodies. While Cassidy had helped them become lean and flexible, Connor had added strength and explosiveness. I’d noticed the difference when we’d gone skins versus shirts the other day. Yuri, Roc, and Phil had much better muscle definition than my baseball teammates. Usually, that wouldn’t have surprised me, because most baseball players don’t work that hard in the weight room. These guys who’d made the USA team were different; they’d worked their tails off. My only conclusion was that the difference was Connor.
The Greene twins, Logan and Royce, both played defensive back at their high school. In fact, Logan had been offered a scholarship to Western Kentucky. He was holding out because he wanted his brother to go to college and play ball with him too. Royce had received a baseball scholarship, but like his brother, he wanted to play football as well.
The reason I mention the Greene twins was that they were both going to be seniors in high school and played football at a high level. Roc and Phil would both be sophomores, and they were dominating the twins. Granted, Roc had a couple inches on them, but Phil was an inch shorter. It put a smile on my face when my guys would simply outmuscle the older boys and then outjump them. Roc was taking to the fade routes we were learning. He relished fighting for a reception and was getting good at causing the defensive back to lose his rhythm when he bumped them.
There was a lot of me in Phil. He liked the contact and wasn’t afraid to mix it up with the older boys. I couldn’t wait to see him in pads. I had a feeling he would surprise some people.
Roc hadn’t slacked off, either. Yuri told me Roc had claimed one of our JUGS machines as his own and used it regularly to catch balls. The results of his efforts were showing up in our practices. Bill Callaway, who now played at USC, had the best hands I’d ever seen. He was one of those rare players who made the people around him look better. I can attest to that because I’d thrown him footballs for two years. He rarely dropped a pass. Roc was quickly catching up to Bill in that regard.
During our practices, Roc was my go-to guy for deep balls. It was almost like when I played Madden Football and pulled out Jerry Rice. You just sent him deep and threw him the ball. Alan and Jeff had banned me from picking him after I’d dominated the video game for a few weeks.
Yuri, my little Russian thug, had also improved. I guess I shouldn’t call him that because he was scared of Pam. You couldn’t be a tough guy and be afraid of a girl, even if she carried a Taser. Yuri would be a beast when it came to coverage from the linebacker slot. In most cases, he would either be matched up with a running back or tight end. He more than held his own against Phil and Roc. If he didn’t have hands of stone, I would have begged to have him play offense. Phil and Roc couldn’t outmuscle or outjump him. And on top of that, Yuri was almost as fast as they were.
The reason I loved to have them practice against him was that they couldn’t cheat. They had to run precise routes and trust that I would get them the ball where it was supposed to be. Otherwise, Yuri would either swat it away or knock it loose as they came down with it. It was good that they were friends, or we might have had some problems. When they went head-to-head, tempers would flare because they were competitive.
As we practiced, I felt the rust coming off my football skills. While I’d been good enough to beat out the guys who’d participated in Elite 11 at the Michigan camp, I never thought I was at my best. That was something they’d taught us at Elite 11: the competition wasn’t against the other campers, it was against yourself.
Yes, my inner Alpha Male wanted to take on all challengers and show dominance. I was self-aware enough to admit that. But once the Alpha Male in me was satisfied, I tended to ignore the competition and focus on myself. I was a little afraid to think about what it would be like when I picked a college and stepped onto the field for the first practice. All I could think was that it would be interesting until I proved I was the best.
The part of me that loved contact couldn’t wait until it was time to put my pads on and hit somebody.
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When I got back to the hotel, I checked my phone and found there was a message from Saul to call him back.
“Saul Gessler’s office. How may I direct your call?” a woman’s voice answered.
“I’d like to speak to Saul, please. This is David A. Dawson, returning his call.”
“One moment.”
I was put on hold and had to listen to classical music. Maybe Saul thought this would make him seem more upper-crust.
“David! I have some news that will make your panties wet,” Saul said by way of a greeting.
When he talked like this, I knew he was about to unload a bunch of BS on me.
“I’m all atingle with anticipation,” I said in my fake ten-year-old excited voice.
“As you should be. I just got off the phone with Chubby Feldman about the James Bond movie. They aren’t waiting for Daniel Craig. It looks like they’ll end up signing him for a two-movie deal, but it won’t be for this one. They’ve hired Stewart Thatcher to play Bond,” Saul revealed.
Stewart had played Callum Ascot in The Royal Palm with me. When I first saw him, I thought he could play James Bond. He already had a British accent and had the looks to pull it off. Stewart was also ten years younger than Daniel Craig, who was pushing 50.
“They’ve changed who plays James Bond before, but I have to wonder, wouldn’t it be better if Daniel Craig was the lead?” I asked.
“I talked to Chubby, and he was fine with who they’ve cast. They planned to pay Craig $50 million. Without him, they can spend more on production and on other talent. Chubby hired Rita James to play your mother, and Mia Hilliard to be your Bond girl.”
Mia was the new Megan Fox, who’d been the love interest in the first two Transformer movies. Mia had been in three straight action movies that had made money at the box office.
I knew that Rita had been contacted, but I thought everything was still up in the air. I’d signed a placeholder contract because they weren’t sure if they were going to shoot the film. Daniel Craig had balked at signing because he currently had more money than God and wanted to spend time with his family. He had a son in grade school that he didn’t want to be apart from for the time it took to film one of these.
“Chubby sent over a contract to firm everything up. He asked that you remain at the same salary, but take two points on the back end. If it does anything like the last couple, that will double if not triple what you’re getting paid,” Saul said.
“What does Caryn say?” I asked.
Saul made a rude noise.
“You’re 18 now. You don’t need Caryn or her lackey Kent getting in the middle of this,” Saul said.
I’d forgotten that Kent was now my manager for everything associated with movies. Even so, I paid for a manager for a reason.