Dad reminded me that I’d promised to tell Oklahoma and Wisconsin if they were out of the picture. If Wisconsin had an architecture program for Tim, I might have committed to them. I felt they had the easiest route to the national championship playoffs. At Michigan, I would have to get past Ohio State, Michigan State, and Penn State to get to the Big Ten Championship game.
◊◊◊
Rick Thomas, a senior tight end who had been our chaperone last year, came out of the locker room to see us. He and Wolf had hit it off when we visited. They shook hands, and Wolf introduced Rick to his family and Sarah.
“Coach told me you were serious about coming here.”
“We have some other places to check out, but so far, this is at the top of our list,” Wolf offered diplomatically.
“You still planning to visit that place down south?”
The rivalry between Michigan and Ohio State was such that their fans wouldn’t even say the other school’s name.
“We fly there tonight,” Wolf confirmed.
“Do me a favor. If you don’t pick us, for the love of God, don’t go there. I would hate to not cheer for you in college,” Rick said.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Wolf said and then wished Rick luck.
◊◊◊
Because we weren’t on an official visit, we didn’t have to follow Ty and the rest of the recruits around. We decided to grab lunch and then check out the pregame festivities.
We asked some people where we should go, and they suggested a place called The Produce Station. When we got there, the place was packed, and Cassidy pointed at another restaurant called Biercamp. You walked in, and the place smelled like a butcher shop. The smell made my mouth water as it was packed to the gills with freshly smoked bacon, brats, hot dogs, jerky, and cheeses.
We grabbed some seats in the beer garden. It wasn’t anything fancy, just picnic tables on gravel outside. To get started, we ordered a jerky platter and chili-cheese tots. The dads all ordered beers, and we settled into some good food. If The Produce Station was better, I would have to make a point to go there the next time I was in town. Their 16-hour slow-cooked pork sandwich was excellent. Brook tried their smoked salmon. She made me split our lunch so she could try the pork.
It was nice to not be on a schedule. We finished up and walked towards the stadium. Michigan was playing Penn State in one of the midafternoon games that would be televised nationwide. Penn State was working their way back to relevance after the scandal that rocked their program.
One of their coaches had gone to jail for doing things with young boys. It had gotten their legendary coach and most of the athletic department fired because they dragged their feet in reacting to it being reported. It was sad to see such a long-standing and legendary program brought to its knees like that. They’d found themselves a young coach who was in the process of turning their fortunes around and restoring them to better days.
I predicted Penn State was in trouble today, even though they’d scored 106 points in their first three games. The problem was they were young. They only had 12 seniors on the roster. That was a drawback when you were going to play at fourth-ranked Michigan in front of their 109,000 fans.
Vegas agreed with me. They had Penn State as an 18.5-point underdog. I suspected that Michigan’s defense would be too much for them since this was their Big Ten opener. I was especially excited to see Michigan’s all-star defensive end and linebacker in action. He was the reason I held out hope that I might be able to play on both sides of the ball in college because they sometimes used him on offense.
Early in the game, Michigan tackled the Penn State quarterback on their 1 yard line. They were forced to punt out of their end zone to my hero. He muffed the punt and picked it up at about the 38 yard line. I think I would have scored. A turf monster tripped him up, and he fell down at the 5 yard line.
From there, it was a massacre. Michigan scored six rushing touchdowns on their way to a 49–10 rout.
◊◊◊
After the game, we were worn out. It was decided to go ahead and fly to Columbus so we could check into our hotel and relax. Before I left, Damion walked me out of the stadium.
“Do you plan to go here?” he asked, getting right to the point.
“Looks like it. Why?”
“I want to have the chance to play ball with you, but I have a problem.”
He seemed to always have a problem. If it weren’t for his insane talent, he would have been written off a long time ago. I’d stepped up and introduced him to Teddy Wesleyan, who, in turn, gave him a scholarship to play at his school. Damion had reclassified because his core grades were an issue with the new NCAA guidelines.
“How can I help?” I asked.
“You noticed my parents weren’t here today. I heard you comment about it.”
“Yeah. Why aren’t they here?” I asked.
“This isn’t an official visit. Michigan couldn’t give me one because I haven’t cleared the red tape yet,” he admitted.
“Your grades?”
“It’s looking like I might have to play JC ball. What I wanted to ask is that if I can get eligible, you’ll put in a good word for me. I think between us, we can make our mark here. I need to make some money, and right now, my best shot is the NFL. With you throwing me the ball, I know I can make it.”
“You do know that the odds are against us, don’t you? Like only two percent of college athletes end up turning pro. If you do the math, that averages out to a college team turning out a pro player once every two years.”
He gave me a sideways look.
“How do you figure that?”
“If the average class size is twenty-five, and one in fifty make it to the pros, you would need two classes to put someone into the NFL.”
“Are you going to give me that whole ‘I need a backup plan’ just in case? If you are, save it.”
I laughed.
“You’re a dick,” Damion spat.
“You’ve been talking to Mike.”
“Maybe.”
“Hey, you have the talent to make it to the pros. What I’m trying to say is that talent alone isn’t going to get you there. If you can’t get this grade problem straightened out, you’ll never get the chance to prove you should be part of the two percent.”
It was his turn to laugh.
“What?” I asked.
“My mom says that the top one percent is what’s wrong with this country.”
“As soon as you sign an NFL contract, you’ll be one of those guys.”
“Don’t tell my mom.”
“I promise,” I said, and then got us back on track. “Do you even know what you need to do to get into college?”
“Yeah, and it ain’t happening. My college boards weren’t high enough to make up for my early grades. It’s junior college for sure.”
“Then you need to find the best program to get you into college. You can’t mess around when you get there. Focus on the prize and put the work in both on the field and in the classroom. I bet if you ask, they’ll help you get your grades.”
“I still want to know. Will you help me?” he asked.
“Damion, if you take care of business in the classroom, I’ll make sure they know you’re looking to play ball and that I want you on my team. I would love to help you become a better receiver. I know you will make me better. Together, we could do some serious damage, maybe even win a national championship.”
He wrapped me in a bear hug and then suddenly was on his knees. I was confused until I saw my little ninja.
“Release!”
“God damn!” Damion complained as he shook his arm to get feeling back into it.
“Damion, this is Cassidy. She’s my security.”
He looked around, and my crew was smiling at him.
“It would probably be too much to ask you all to forget that a little girl just took me down?”
“Dude, chill,” Tim said.