“Is that the girl from yesterday who made me puke?” Larry asked.
“Yep. Don’t worry; I did the same thing the first time she worked me out. I kept looking at this little girl and couldn’t believe she could outwork me. She sometimes does that routine twice in a night,” I shared.
“Now that you mention it, a feature on her would be a good idea,” Jeff said, contemplating that.
“I would also suggest doing something on the Sullivans, Tom Dole, and my dad. Along with Coach Hope, they were the driving force behind getting us better equipment and facilities. The trainers helped us learn to use the equipment and enlisted outside help to get us physically ready to play ball. Another group is the guidance counselors who make sure we keep our grades up and prepare us for whatever comes next.
“It’s not just me; the whole team has set a goal to make Lincoln a powerhouse for years to come—not only in football, but in all athletics. And in academics,” I suggested.
“Since you’ve given me some good ideas, I’ll leave you to your lunch and not pester you with questions,” Jeff said and left.
We had a good time at lunch. It was nice to spend time with three guys who were going through a lot of what I had to deal with, being the faces of their programs. When we finished eating, they said they needed to go get ready for the afternoon, because they had some catching-up to do.
◊◊◊
On the way out, Coach Title stopped me.
“Do you have a minute?” he asked.
I was a little wary that I would get another butt-chewing, but accompanied him to a spot where we wouldn’t be overheard.
“I wanted to tell you I’m sorry about yesterday. After seeing you play this morning, I have to admit that I was wrong in my evaluation of your talent. I hope we can put this behind us and have a fresh start from here.”
I thought about letting it go, but the teenager in me just wouldn’t.
“Well, I think you got it backward,” I finally said.
“Why? You don’t owe me an apology,” he said, confused.
“No. You ripped me very publicly. The cameras will show in detail what you thought of my play and my commitment to football. Now, you apologize in private, where the record can’t be set straight.
“Before yesterday, I was probably going to pick Michigan as my football destination. Your program is on the rise; I expect you to be in the mix for a spot in the College Football Playoff for the next few years. You even took the initiative to have a camp here at Lincoln High, where my teammates and area football players could get additional training.
“While there are other schools in serious contention, like Alabama, Clemson, and Ohio State, I’d thought Michigan might be the best fit for me. I have to thank you for yesterday. It has prevented me from picking Michigan at the end of camp, which I’d considered doing so I could end this recruiting circus.
“All I could think of while you were questioning my commitment was that you didn’t know me. You haven’t done your homework to find out how hard I work and what an asset I could be at the University of Michigan. What kept running through my mind was, do I need someone like you coaching me for the next four years? You didn’t for one minute consider what your comments would do to my reputation once they played your little drama on national television. All you were focused on was establishing yourself as the one I needed to listen to while tearing me down,” I said, winding down.
“Would it help if I made my apology public? Would you commit if you have my word that this sort of thing will never happen again?” he asked.
“My dad reminds me that my actions have consequences. Honestly, I can’t imagine what you hoped to accomplish, but your actions have affirmed my desire to look at all my options.”
“I really am sorry. I didn’t think about the cameras being in the room,” Coach Title said.
“It wasn’t just that. Several of my coaches were there too,” I said, and sighed. “It wasn’t just you, either. Coach Haber was sitting right there when you did it. He didn’t say a word to stop you. That makes me think the Michigan coaching staff felt I needed to be sent a message that I should forget about baseball and acting if they interfere with football.”
“You’ll have the same issues at any of the top football programs,” he said, not denying it.
“Don’t you think I’m aware of that? Ohio State sent their baseball coach to talk to my parents and me to show us how it would work. While football was the priority, they were willing to make sure I got a shot at playing college baseball.
“You can try to bully me into doing what you want, but it won’t work. If anything, it’ll cause me to dig my heels in. You’ll find that if you talk to me, I can be reasonable. Telling me what to do is disrespectful, especially if you’re trying to get my buy-in. You’re not my mom,” I said.
“Will you still consider Michigan?” he asked.
“I didn’t leave camp, so that should show I haven’t closed the door.”
He nodded and left me to think about what had just happened. I shook my head to focus on football. I had the three best high school quarterbacks in the nation coming after my number one spot, and I wanted to defend that position.
◊◊◊
The afternoon session was one of the best I’d had at any camp. The three other guys had gone through the indoctrination at Elite 11 and were supportive and helpful. It was like we had four extra coaches on the field, working to make each other the best we could be.
“You’re going to die when you get to college,” I told Matt.
“What are you talking about?”
“In high school, you’re the biggest, baddest dude and can take a shot. In college, there’ll be ’roided-up freaks of nature who will plant you if you stand there and take a hit. You won’t do USC any good sitting out because you got injured being stupid,” I said, smiling to soften what I was telling him.
I realize it sounded funny coming from me, who’d admitted to everyone how much I loved the contact. That little fact wasn’t lost on my teammates helping out on the drill. They’d heard similar tirades from our coaches over the years.
“If he’s broken free, just go down and cover the ball. If your lineman has him engaged, help him out.”
“What do you mean?”
“The reason you step up in the pocket is to allow your lineman to push him past you. It might even help to take a step towards the rusher while stepping up. That will shorten the space he has to get loose from his block,” I said.
“Show me,” Matt said.
I had Jay play the backside tackle and Larry the rusher while I played quarterback. Once Larry got his shoulders past Jay, I explained that I was in trouble and needed to move. I stepped towards Larry and angled so I would be behind Jay’s backside; that way, he was in a better position to re-engage and make the block. It gave me a little more time to find an open receiver.
“Work on those cone drills where you move a couple of yards, and it’ll save your life,” I suggested.
We all offered each other suggestions to improve our games. I expect it was one of those times where you’d heard the advice before, but when it came from someone else, it sank in. We all knew football and played the position. I’m sure we all learned some good things.
◊◊◊
After practice, I was summoned to the video room again. When I entered the room, I found the same people there as yesterday.
“I asked David here to apologize in public for what I said yesterday,” Coach Title said, and turned to Jeff. “I would hope that you would delete what I said yesterday because it wasn’t fair to David. Since then, I’ve talked to several people, and my evaluation was completely wrong. I’m embarrassed to say I knew better,” he said.