He jogged up to the next station.
“Check your depth on your drops. I don’t want to see you rush. The next pass is pretty fundamental, it’s the dig route.”
I watched the receiver go straight up the field fifteen yards and then cut hard towards the sideline. Coach ran to the next station.
“Okay, this time we’re in the shotgun.”
There were two coaches waiting. One hiked the ball and the other acted like a running back. You had to fake a handoff.
“The receiver will hold his position until you’ve made your fake. He’ll then run a down-and-out. I’ll let you know if he got out of bounds or not. So, pay attention because the clock could still be running.”
He jogged up to the last station.
“Grip it, and rip it! Then go celebrate with the fans, baby,” he said as he made his last pass.
Coach Allen made it look easy.
Up first was Flee. He did well until the crossing route, where he let the ball sail. It seemed to rattle his confidence, and he was off from there. This camp was all about building you up, so everyone cheered him on. I could see it relieved some of the pressure. He went and talked to Coach Trent, who did an interview with him for ESPNU about his experience at camp and how he felt he did.
Roland was next. There must have been something about the crossing route. He put the ball on the receiver’s wrong shoulder. This wasn’t like the USC camp where if you messed up, you had to do it again. I think this confused Roland because everyone else had jogged to the next station and he was standing there. When he finally figured it out, the clock was against him. He tried to make up the time by cutting down on his drops, but they kept screaming at him to do it right. His final pass wasn’t even close, but we all cheered for him.
Mathew was up. It was funny how the other guys were more subdued in their cheers for him. He was the first one through to throw all the passes clean.
Ben sauntered up with a big smile on his face. You could tell he was having a good time. You could also tell the guys really liked him, too. He seemed to put a smile on everyone’s face. If I were looking at his performance compared to Mathew’s, I would have to give the edge to Mathew. If it was based on leadership, as the coaches had been saying, then hands down it was Ben.
As I walked onto the field, I heard our damned cowbells. I looked over and saw my mom and dad, Greg and Uncle John standing by Tami. She’d told me she was going shopping. Instead, she’d been picking up my family at the airport. I treated all the players to me throwing up into a towel. For some reason, I was suddenly nervous. I was sure the Ohio State alumni would not appreciate me puking on their turf.
Coach Allen jogged up to me.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Believe it or not, this is a good thing. If I throw up before a game, we win. I’m going to win this,” I said.
I took a deep breath and centered myself. I no longer heard the cowbells, or the guys cheering me on. I could tell from the first throw, I was on. It was going to take a tremendous effort from Tim to beat me. I never was hurried, but I had a sense of urgency, and every pass was on the money. When I was done, I shook Coach Allen’s hand.
“Thank you, sir, I learned a lot today.”
I then went over to Coach Trent.
“You’re not even breathing hard,” he commented.
“I work out a little bit.”
“I can see that. How was your experience today?”
“I can’t thank you enough for giving me the opportunity to compete against this caliber of player. This is a first-rate program.”
“I see your family showed up. Go say hi to them. Good job today,” he said, and then they let Tim begin.
He was up to the task. I think the only advantage he really had over me was a year’s experience. When he was done, we all came together one last time.
“Everyone take a knee,” Coach Trent said. “Okay, great job today. The first thing you need to do is give your wideouts a round of applause.”
We clapped for them. They’d been catching balls for us all day without complaint.
“Next, give your coaches a hand, and while you’re at it, your friends and family. Show them we appreciate them.”
I could hear the cowbells ringing.
“I wanted to congratulate you on the improvement I saw in each and every one of you. The way you do small things is the way you do all things. That’s a phrase to live your life by. Everything counts, everything counts. Everything you do: how you walk, how you talk, how you shake someone’s hand. Everything counts! Carry that over to your team. Help them become more. Not just your teammates, either. Carry that message to your friends, family, classmates, anyone you come in contact with.
“Now before we tell you who’s going on to the Elite 11 Finals, we have some awards. The first award is the accuracy challenge award. We have ten winners representing six states,” he said, droning on.
I think this was one of those times where everyone was going to get a ribbon and a pat on the head. I wanted to get to the meat of the matter. Was I selected to go to Nike and compete?
“This is my least favorite part of camp,” Coach Trent began. “This part is hard because we’ll only be able to hand out a few golden tickets tonight. There are so many of you who are deserving of going to the finals. The coaching staff will wrestle with deciding who gets a ticket beyond each camp’s MVP. We have 18 slots available, and we’ll fill the remaining 12 tonight. The hard part of my job is I can’t invite everybody.
“Right now, I’m going to give out one. I thought his tape was phenomenal. As soon as I saw him, I felt his presence. He bounced back from challenges all day. Today’s camp ticket goes to Tim Rogers.”
Everyone gave him a polite golf clap. I thought I had done enough to be selected, but I came up short. I went around and said goodbye to the new guys I’d met. I made a point to thank all the coaches. I then went to find my family.
No one wanted a hug. They said I stunk. I decided to go back to the hotel to shower and change instead of fighting with all the quarterbacks and receivers in the locker room. Everyone was staying at our hotel. Tami had made the executive decision to stay one more night in Columbus, and now I knew why.
MOM AND DAD WANTED to talk to me alone, so I went to their room. I could tell something was up.
“There are two news items we need to catch you up on,” Dad said. “The first is something unpleasant, I’m afraid. John Phillips blew out his Achilles tendon. They did surgery today, and they were happy with the results. He’ll be able to walk again. The concern is football. We talked to Tami, and she’s willing to drive you to Lexington to see him.”
It took me a moment to absorb what I just heard. In the blink of an eye, John’s dream may have disappeared. When they told me how it happened, I wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. He’d stepped off a curb wrong and it had torn.
I felt even worse when I realized I had just been down because I hadn’t won a contest. Granted, it would have been great, but compared to what John was going through it was insignificant. Mom and Dad hugged me.
“Remember, you can only do what you can control. Right now, John needs you to be his friend. You have other commitments this summer,” Mom reminded me.
I might have been offended if it had come from anyone else, but Mom was always the ‘tough love’ parent. She knew me well enough to know I’d want to spend all my time with John. I had a football team to work with. We’d made promises to each other to work to win State again.
“Now, down to business. Range Sports has made a settlement offer,” Dad said as he pulled out a sheet of paper and handed it to me.
It had two options. One was for me to continue to work with them on a job-by-job basis for the next two years. Part of that option was to give them the power to block me from working for certain companies. I read through the list and they were mainly other sporting-goods companies.