Coach Mason had agreed to be our offensive coordinator next year.
“I figured as much, but you can’t argue with his offensive production,” I said.
It was a little disappointing because I felt that my running the ball helped us. But I was aware that I wouldn’t run the ball nearly as much in college, and I’d run it even less in the pros. Everyone wanted a mobile quarterback who could extend plays and pick up first downs with his feet, but the flip side was the danger of his getting hurt. There simply weren’t enough elite quarterbacks, so you had to protect them.
“With that in mind, Coach Rector has suggested that we put together seven-on-seven teams this spring to help learn the new offense,” Coach Hope said.
“He told me it would take precedence over baseball, but I’m not sure I can do that.”
“I know you like baseball, but your senior year is going to be important.”
I thought about it for a second and decided not to throw Moose to the wolves.
“While I was in LA, the movie I was doing originally called for me to be a baseball player. Part of my deal was that I’d get the services of a hitting coach. They sent me to a high-level training facility, and I was lucky enough to get the Cubs’ hitting coach. He was impressed enough to call in one of their scouts. They feel I should switch to play center field. My coach is submitting my name for consideration for tryouts for the Under-18 USA baseball team. They invite the top 108 baseball players in the country.
“I guess what I’m saying is that my dream was always to play professional baseball. I love football, but I need to give this a chance, too. You know I’ll do whatever it takes to help us win football games. I just want to have the chance to decide what’s best for me in the end. To do that, I’ll need to focus on baseball in the spring,” I said.
“I’m not really in a position to help you, baseball-wise. If you remember, you roped me into helping last year.
“As far as football goes, I’ve been around you long enough to know that you’ll do whatever it takes to be ready for next year. This might be an opportunity to build some depth. I’ll need players after you graduate,” he reasoned.
“Thanks, Coach.”
He gave me access to the football software so I could start learning the plays. He also told me he would smooth everything over with Coach Rector.
“Oh, one last item,” he said as I turned to go. “National Signing Day for college football recruits is on February third. Try to say something nice about Jim, if anyone asks you.”
Coach and I grinned at each other before I turned and finally made my escape. He knew I’d find something fun to do about it.
He really was my coach and not a fellow prankster. Right?
◊◊◊
Cassidy and Brook were waiting for me. I dreaded what was to come. Cassidy would want to show me what all I’d done wrong when I was in LA, and this was the first chance she would have at me in the dojo. To appease her, I didn’t ask for my keys back. Instead, I just climbed into the back of the jeep and let her and Brook have the front seats. From their conversation, I could tell they had become friends and had spent a lot of time with each other over Christmas break.
When we arrived, Fritz was already there. I was happy to see Coach Hope show up a few minutes later. Brook went off to her class, and I stepped over to talk to the two men.
“She’s going to hand you your ass,” Coach Hope predicted.
“I don’t think so. David’s learned a thing or two while he’s been away. I bet he can hold his own,” Fritz said.
“Sheeeit, you can’t handle me. What makes you believe you could teach him enough to stand up to my daughter?” Coach Hope asked.
“This is practicing in a dojo. If you and I were to really fight, you wouldn’t last two minutes,” Fritz predicted.
“Oh, really?”
“You’re both wusses,” I teased.
That comment made the old men laugh.
“I believe I’m going to enjoy seeing Cassidy teach you a lesson,” Coach Hope said.
“You ready?” Cassidy said to draw my attention from her dad and Fritz.
“They said you were going to teach me a lesson, but I think I can take you now,” I boasted.
I guess Shiggy must have ‘mom ears’ because he cocked his head and turned from his class to see Cassidy launch herself at me.
Something Fritz had taught me was to be more physical when it came to fighting. I was a big guy, and he reasoned I should use that to my advantage. The problem was that Cassidy was lightning fast. Her usual tactic was to strike, move away, and then strike again. She’d learned how to use her small body to whip into her opponent, which multiplied the force with which she hit you.
I knew that she would hit me, but also knew that if I could get hold of her, I could turn it into more of a fight to my liking. What I wasn’t counting on was that Cassidy was genuinely mad at me. Her first move was to kick me in the balls. I realized it was just a feint, but I challenge any guy not to react to Cassidy Hope acting like she’s about donkey-kick you in the nut sack.
As I bent over, she launched herself at me with the plan to put me into a sleeper hold. I snatched her out of the air and let my forward momentum carry us to the floor with Cassidy under me. I heard the air forced out of her lungs as we slammed to the mat. Before I could follow up on my advantage, Shiggy tossed me off her.
“I will have none of that,” he barked.
“I had him right where I wanted him,” Cassidy bluffed.
“If you mean him pounding the stuffing out of you, then I agree,” Shiggy said.
I smirked.
“You,” Shiggy said, and my smirk disappeared. “You can no longer spar in my dojo without me present to supervise. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
He turned back to Cassidy.
“If you want to spar with him, wait until my beginners class is over,” he ordered.
“Yes, sir.”
Cassidy gave me a tongue-lashing about holding back in an actual fight. She then had me show her everything Fritz had taught me. Cassidy was a sponge when it came to learning stuff like this. She would stop me when she thought I did something wrong and have Fritz show her.
Sixty minutes of hell and then the dojo wore me out. Coach Hope volunteered to give Brook a ride home for me.
◊◊◊
My uncle, grandmother, Caryn, and Greg’s family were all at our house for dinner. My grandma was vocally admiring the second clock, and Dad was trying not to mutter too obviously. I caught my family up on my trip to LA as we ate. Then I remembered my AP classes. I was sure if Tami or Alan were involved, Mom would know.
“I picked up my class schedule today, and I was signed up for a bunch of AP classes. Do you know how that happened?”
“Yes, your dad and I changed your schedule,” Mom said.
“You did what?” I asked in my teen angst voice.
“We talked to Bo Harrington at your Elite 11 camp. He suggested that if you could handle it, we should sign you up for AP classes because they would count towards college credits. They would also eliminate some of the entry-level classes you would need to take. He reasoned that college football would require much more of your time, and if you needed to lessen your load, it was better to do it in college,” Dad said.
“But why did you sign me up for so many of them?” I asked.
“Because we know you can handle them,” Mom said.
I put my hand over my face and massaged my temples to stave off the oncoming headache. Here I’d assumed it was Alan and Tami. They’d always pushed me to work hard in school. I believe they sometimes thought I really was a ‘stupid boy.’
I decided not to fight it. Mom was right, in that I could handle it. I would’ve liked to have been consulted about it, though.
After we were done eating, Caryn wanted to talk to us. I wondered why Greg and Angie joined the group while Dad watched the kids.