“As long as Tank approves it,” Willy qualified.
Tank knew what Cassidy did with David and the other players who worked out with him. Unless there was a medical reason why not, David was confident Tank would allow them to work out with Cassidy.
The offensive line asking made total sense to David. They played the most grueling position in football. They were in on every offensive play while their counterparts on the defensive line substituted freely to stay fresh.
David could also understand why Marcus was there. If he could remain on the field and not take a break, it would only help with his numbers since Marcus would get more touches of the ball. It wasn’t uncommon for running backs to have to split time after consecutive plays or long runs because they had to catch their breath.
◊◊◊
One benefit of living in the athletic dorm was the cafeteria. During training, many football players consumed massive amounts of calories. So, the food was plentiful, and there were healthy choices. David also didn’t get stared at when he loaded his tray with his meal.
He’d told his guys that they should eat with other players because David didn’t want to create an ‘us versus them’ situation like in high school. They might not like everyone, but they were a team all working toward a common goaclass="underline" winning football games.
He decided to eat with his new roommate and Bill.
Craig ate like a caveman.
“Easy, dude. The food isn’t going to run off your plate,” Bill quipped.
Craig ignored him.
“How do you want to handle it when a girl comes over?” Craig asked.
“I planned to go to my townhouse if I wanted to do something,” David admitted. “Why do you ask?”
“I received a message from my favorite jock bunny.”
“Is she the freak that has been with half the team … Daisy?” Bill asked.
Craig smiled as confirmation.
“She would love it if you wanted her after I was done,” Craig offered.
David was stunned.
“David grew up in a small Midwestern town and just arrived on campus in the spring,” Bill told Craig and then turned to David. “Did you encounter jock bunnies playing baseball?”
“A couple. But my teammates would hook up with them after games.”
“After Sage and I broke up, I was probably with six to eight different girls a week. Some, like Daisy, I made multiple visits with. Eventually, I slowed down. But even the most incompetent football player will be with two to four different girls per week,” Bill said.
“What about girlfriends?” David asked.
“We have them, but they don’t last long. My time with Sage was really the exception. If one of them shows interest, don’t worry that her boyfriend will get too mad. What you do have to watch out for is their sisters. That’ll get your butt beat,” Bill said.
“Tell me about it. I made the mistake of confusing one of the guy’s sisters with a jock bunny. He was royally pissed,” David remembered.
“Another thing: always wrap it. Jock bunnies are how a lot of teammates end up with the same STI. Last fall, fifteen of us had a nasty one. The same girl hooks up with multiple guys who don’t use rubbers because the girls are on birth control.
“Oh, and people forget that many viruses can transfer via oral sex. EBV and HPV account for most cases of prostate and throat cancer as well as cervical, ovarian, and uterine cancers. As a side note, those viruses are not included in standard STI tests. Your doctor has to order them specifically,” Craig shared.
“How do you keep from getting that?” David worried.
“Don’t go down on them,” Bill said, like that should be obvious. “I also make it a policy not to kiss, just to be safe.”
“I think I’ll pass,” David decided, even though he was horny. “We didn’t work out what we’re going to do about the room.”
“Just use the sock on the doorknob bit. Also, message when you plan to be busy,” Bill said to help them out.
Craig got his phone out and sent David a message, which amused all of them. Craig had just claimed the room until ten. Bed check was at 10:30, so the girl would have to be gone by then anyway.
“Some of the receivers were going to play a little poker. We could always use another, if you want to join us,” Bill offered.
“What he means is he wants to take your money,” Craig said.
◊◊◊
When he sat down at the table, he looked at all the smiling faces. Ashley had warned him that if he couldn’t figure out who the fish—the weakest player—was, it was probably him. David agreed; he was the fish.
By the end of the night, he was only down ten bucks. He considered that a win against the more experienced players.
When he got back to his room, Daisy was still there. He was surprised that she looked like an average student. He would have never guessed that she regularly slept around with the football team.
“I promised her that she could say ‘hello,’” Craig said with a pleading look that told David to play nice.
“Sup,” David said with a head bob.
“I wanted to give you my number if you were ever in need of some stress relief. It would be no-strings fun; just hit me up, and we can hang.”
“I just might,”—never do that—David said and thought.
When she left, Craig was all smiles.
“Thanks, man. Daisy was going to bail on me after the first time until I told her I could arrange for her to meet you.”
“Anything for the cause, I guess.”
David was worried that he would take forever to fall asleep because he had a roommate. But he fell asleep faster than he thought he would. It was probably the fatigue finally catching up to him.
◊◊◊
Chapter 56
Coach Jason Merritt
Though he had his faults, something Coach Clayton had been exceptional at was organizing. He’d laid out a practice plan that looked like a blueprint Jason could live with. That had freed him up to hire a special teams coach.
When he’d played college and pro ball, it had been apparent that it was a man’s sport. The whole time he’d been playing, he’d dated and eventually married Emma, who it turned out knew more about football than many of his coaches. So much for it being a ‘man’s sport.’
When he retired from pro ball and became an NFL assistant coach, they’d landed in Arizona, where he coached defensive backs. Carl Stackhouse, the owner, had a daughter who was a kindred spirit to his wife.
Amy Stackhouse had grown up following her dad around as he oversaw the team. There were stories of her sitting in film sessions as early as age five. When she was a teen, her dad barred her from being around the players. She learned that her dad had heard a couple of players talking about his daughter in inappropriate ways. Both players were released, but he didn’t want to take any chances. Amy was growing into a woman.
Later, Amy had come to the realization that she would never work for her dad, so she’d gone to college and gotten her psychology degree. The summer before her senior year was when Jason began coaching for Arizona.
They’d drafted a wide receiver in the first round who’d won the Biletnikoff Award as the best receiver in college. When he joined voluntary workouts, it quickly became apparent that something had happened because the kid looked very average. The coaching staff tried everything and couldn’t seem to get through to the young man.
Amy had gone to her dad and asked if she could work with the guy. By the end of summer, she’d fixed him and turned him into a solid contributor to the team.
Since then, Amy had set up her psychology practice in Phoenix, specializing in helping young athletes.
There was a knock on his door.
“Come in.”
Amy walked in. While Jason didn’t like to compare women’s looks, Amy always reminded him of Emma Stone. It was mainly in her eyes and the quirky smile she had that made you think you were in on whatever secret she had. He would admit that she looked good in her USC coach’s polo shirt, but as a married man, that was as far as it would ever go.