“I’m sure all I’ll be doing is sipping cocktails poolside while I’m away. If you want, I can send you some pictures,” I teased.
“Get out of here. I might have to make an example of you and your smart mouth, and make you pull from the punishment jar,” Coach Hope said.
“By the way, I changed all the punishments to going out on a date with Cassidy,” Coach Zoon added.
I started to say something but thought better of it; I might actually want to attend practice tonight. Then I stopped as something struck me. I turned around, and both coaches wore curious looks as to what I might have to say.
“You already had all this figured out, didn’t you?” I asked.
Both coaches smiled, and Coach Zoon nodded.
“David, something you have to learn is to listen to your men. You want their buy-in. But you did add to what I’d already planned,” Coach Hope said. “You reminded me to look into the homeschooled players’ transcripts. I was focused on football, not eligibility. You also brought up an excellent point about bulking up. I agree, a call to Alabama is a good start. We want to do it right so that we add the weight the right way.
“I also like that you’re proactive. I planned to attack this at the start of the year. You’re right in pointing out that a lot of development can happen in a month. I’ll make sure I get everyone together after the season and have a brainstorming session like the one we did when we set all this up. I might even throw you under the bus once or twice and tell them something is your idea if they don’t come up with it themselves. That way it’ll come from a fellow teammate, instead of the coaches.”
I thought about what he’d just said, and could see where he was right. Teens didn’t like to be told to do anything. If they all worked together to come up with the ideas, we should be more successful.
“That’s fine, Coach. If they get out of line, tell them I said Cassidy’d make sure they get with the program.”
“Will do. Now go get ready. We have a game Saturday, and I’d like to remove any doubt. Nobody taught us to quit, and I’m not about to let that happen. I suspect the last game was a wake-up call for all of us.”
◊◊◊
Coach treated practice like a Monday. We watched film of our last game. Well, just the final play. I expect everyone knew how close we had come to ending our season. Believe it or not, some idiot had driven by the Nazareth Academy quarterback’s home and shot out the front window. I knew exactly how the kid felt. My first year, I’d had the football bounce off my facemask late in a playoff game; that had caused us to lose. What people needed to come to grips with was that it was just a game.
Then the coaches broke us down into offense and defense, and we reviewed Beverly’s game films. Coach Mason had looked at them and pointed out several concerns and opportunities. As I watched the video, I felt a calmness come over me. We’d played them the last two years and had split the games. It appeared that nothing had changed since Coach Hope and Coach Zoon had been head coaches there. They played tough defense and were conservative on offense. The problem was I’d been involved in game-planning against them the last two years. There was no mystery here, and I knew how to beat them.
As I listened to Coach Diamond and Alan break down Beverly’s defense, and how we would attack it, I could tell they’d done their homework. It confirmed everything I thought. I vowed to light them up on Saturday. I didn’t want to be in a position where we needed a miracle to win.
◊◊◊
After practice, I skipped the dojo because I needed to give my body a break. I stayed after practice and let Jill give me a therapeutic massage. I almost cried when she did it, but I knew how much better I would feel tomorrow. She sent me to the whirlpool after she was done to let the hot water beat against my body and loosen me up even more. When the trainers were finally done with me, I felt like a piece of limp spaghetti.
I drove home and found Mom had made split pea soup. After I’d eaten a couple of bowls, I was ready for bed, but Dad stopped me.
“I wanted to give you a quick update on what Frank found out. His uncle rehired Brandon Rigby after Tom let him go, so he’s an employee of Rigby, Thompson and Associates. I talked to Ms. Dixon, and she’s sending them a cease-and-desist letter. I authorized her to get aggressive in the verbiage, but not to make any threats we aren’t willing to carry out,” Dad said.
“What do you mean, aggressive?” I asked.
“Well, Ms. Dixon was more than willing to just turn them all over to the State Bar, she was so disgusted. She said this was a good compromise to her approach, but if Brandon doesn’t stop, there will be consequences. Frank promised to keep an eye out to make sure nothing new surfaces and that everything gets taken down. The letter was messengered over today,” Dad explained.
“Thanks for coordinating that for me. I really appreciate the assist today,” I said.
Dad just smiled. I took my trusty hound up to my apartment and crashed.
◊◊◊
Chapter 8 – If I Weren’t Careful Saturday November 14
I woke up to my phone ringing. I wondered who would be calling so early.
“Hello,” I croaked out.
“David, did I wake you up?” a familiar voice asked.
“What? What time is it?” I asked.
“David, it’s Mr. Hill. I wondered if you could do a shoot for me this morning?”
I looked at the clock, and it was 6:30 a.m. Our game with Beverly wasn’t until 7:00 p.m.
“I’d have to be back for my football game no later than 5:00 tonight,” I said.
“Is that a yes?” Mr. Hill asked.
“I guess. What time do I need to be there?” I asked.
“Can you be here by 8:00? I’ll have you out of here by 3:00 at the latest.”
“Alright,” I said and hung up.
My first thought was to call Kendal, but she no longer worked for me. I still didn’t have a PA who had power of attorney to sign off on things for me. Either my mom or dad would have to come with me; I sure hoped they didn’t have plans. I threw on a pair of shorts and got Duke. He wasn’t happy that I put him on the leash, but there wasn’t time for him to mess around. I walked in the back door and found Mom and Dad at the kitchen table.
“Mr. Hill called this morning and asked me to do a photo shoot today. Could one of you show up around 3:00 and sign off on the work?” I asked.
“When are you going to get a PA?” Mom asked.
“I know. This is my fault,” I said.
“What does he need you to do?” she asked.
Sometimes it sucks to be a guy. My dad bit his bottom lip and scratched the back of his head.
“David Allen Dawson. Are you telling me you have no idea what Mr. Hill needs you to do today?” Mom asked.
“He just said he needed my help. I figured it was important,” I said in my lame defense.
“I’ll go with you. Someone has to make sure you’re not doing gay porn,” Mom said, which caused Dad to shoot coffee out his nose.
I swear she sometimes just says things for shock value, but she wouldn’t be my mom if she didn’t. I just rolled my eyes and went back to my apartment to take a shower.
◊◊◊
As we pulled into Hill Advertising, their parking lot was full. Mom and I walked in and found the lobby full of models. I stepped up to the reception desk and saw there was the same girl who’d been the receptionist the last time I was there. This time she looked frazzled, so I didn’t ask her to detail the Charger. She looked up and gave me a weak smile.
“Mr. Dawson, they’re in Studio A,” she said.
Mom and I walked into the back. Studio A was the biggest studio at Hill Advertising; it was twenty by twenty with a fifteen-foot ceiling. I spotted Mr. Hill. He was busy with several suits who seemed to be giving him a hard time. He saw me and motioned me to come over.