equity.” Coach waved Wes’s fumbling words away. He downed the rest of his whisky in one swallow and slammed the glass down on his desk. Nodded and then leaned forward, bracing his meaty forearms on his tree-trunk thighs. “Now, we need to talk.”
He knows. A river of fear sluiced through Wes. “Coach—”
“Let me talk, son.” Coach glared until Wes snapped his jaw shut, squeezed his lips into a thin line. He didn’t even sip his whisky. “Look, out of all my starters, you are the only one I really worry about. You know why?”
Wes said nothing. He didn’t move.
“You’re what some people call a gentle soul, despite being in this game. Seems years and years of this gridiron haven’t relieved you of the burden of having a big old heart. Most guys get to where you are through sheer, single-minded determination, and they aren’t opposed to throwing some elbows on the way up the ladder. Not every boy who dreams of the NFL can get to the top, you know?” He hesitated, his thumbs tapping together. Coach knew the value of silence and a heavy stare. “Now, I know you’re a beast on the field, and there’s nothing I or another team can throw at you that can get you off your game or get inside your head. But you’ve never played at this level before, son. Even last year, when you were trading starts with Watson. You weren’t the starter. You weren’t ranked as the fifth-best player in the country.” His eyebrows rose, and he smiled as the blood drained out of Wes’s face. “That’s right. Number five in the nation. There’s a few weenies from Ohio and Mississippi in front of you, but by the middle of the season, I think you’ll knock them down a few pegs. I think you have a few more rungs to climb. When I look at you, I see the best player in the nation.”
“Coach…”
“Shut up and listen.” He leaned forward, closer to Wes. “You’re the top dog at this school, Wes. In this program. And in this sport. I have to ask: are you ready for what’s about to happen to you?”
Wes stared, his eyes about to fall out of their sockets. His hand trembled, the whisky sloshing against the crystal walls of the glass. Coach took it gently from him, set it on his desk. Wes gripped the edges of his hat, let the cold sweat from his palms soak into the wool.
“You are going to be under the microscope. Everything about you is going to be turned upside down. NFL scouts will be crawling over your life. They’re going to look at your grades, at your girlfriends, at your social circle. What kind of photos you’ve been tagged in on Facebook. Who you know, and who knows you. Reporters are going to follow you. Dig into your life. Everyone is going to want something from you. You think you’ve had pussy before? You’re about to drown in pussy. Girls will be throwing themselves at you faster than you can blink. Everything is going to change—but all of that, all of that, Wes, is a distraction.”
Jesus Christ. Wes’s fingers dug into his hat, mangled the brim. Squeezed until he couldn’t feel his fingertips.
“Everything that’s about to happen is a distraction from what’s most important.” Coach leaned forward, eyeball to eyeball with Wes. “Remember why you started playing this game. You started, and you stayed, because of the team. Because when you step out on that field, it’s not about you, about your glory or the pussy you get or the contracts you might sign someday or the money people promise you. It’s about the team. It’s about all of you coming together and doing something greater than yourselves. Giving your all to each other so that together, together, you can achieve glory. Greatness. So you can all step on that field at the end of the season as champions, and as the best football players in the nation. And so every single one of you can grab those dreams you’ve had since you were knee-high boys and see them come true. That’s why you play, son. For the dream.”
Wes couldn’t feel his heart. It was either faster than a hummingbird or it had stopped completely. He had no idea which.
“You are going to go pro. I know, I know, you say you haven’t decided. But listen. I already have six NFL coaches calling me asking about you. You have the