mandatory group training sessions, and time with your teams.” He explained where the various fields were located. During their appointed sessions, each team would have access to half a field.
The camp was organized. Cody loved that. It left him time to think about his players, what they needed to gain this week to be successful. If they were going to leave here a team, the work ahead was daunting.
Coach Henry wrapped up his talk and allowed five minutes for water and dressing out. The Lyle team wore matching T-shirts, navy and white, the Buckaroo colors.
“Come on, guys … get a drink. Let’s be first on the field.” Cody stayed with them, encouraging them. He looked for signs that they cared about each other, and again he didn’t see any. Still, they managed to be third on the field after the break. Better than last, Cody told himself.
Stretches came first. Coach Henry walked the lines of players shouting truth at them. “Being limber and warmed up is crucial. No one ever took football seriously if they didn’t know about stretching.” He had them pair up and work together, helping each other stretch their hamstrings and back muscles.
Stretching led to footwork, monotonous movements that caused Cody to watch his players closely. Were they on board with Coach Henry’s aggressive approach? Were they listening? The coach was going on, telling them about the daily competition. “Every day we’ll award points.” He stared them down. “The team with the most points wins first place for that day.”
The glare of the sun made it hard to see, but Cody squinted at his guys. A few looked down, as if they weren’t even here. Arnie Hurley whispered to Joel Butler, a lanky wide receiver from the junior class. Joel’s parents were in the middle of a messy divorce. Other than DeMetri and a few others, Cody’s team treated this opening session like a morning biology class.
High school coaches were allowed to walk the lines, casting glances and keeping their players in order. Cody headed toward Arnie and Joel, and the boys noticed him. Immediately they paid attention. The other players seemed to pick up their pace.
Even still, by morning break — after their first team session — Cody wasn’t impressed. “Listen up.” He called his guys over, and when they didn’t run, he blew the whistle around his neck. The sound got their attention and most of them hurried into place in front of him. “Listen.” He didn’t want to get angry. But if they didn’t find something special at camp, the time would be a waste. “This isn’t the picnic. We have to be serious.”
He called his assistants over. “Everyone knows their playbook, right?”
A murmur of yes‘s and sort of‘s came from the crowd. Cody tried to keep his patience. “We will know our playbook by tomorrow. If we don’t, we will use every minute of our team time to run the perimeter of the college.” He looked over the players, catching the surprise in some of their eyes. He hadn’t been this strict with them before. There had been no need. “Does everyone understand?”
Again the response was weak and mumbled. DeMetri shot an angry look at his team. “Did you hear, Coach? That’s not how you answer, y’all. Understand?”
Cody swallowed the smile that played in his heart. DeMetri was a leader. He needed several of those — but this was a start. The sort of beginning his team would need if the week were to matter. “Smitty is right!” Again Cody’s voice boomed. He remembered Jim’s advice. Take charge … let them know you’re in charge. They have to know what you expect. Cody lowered his clipboard. “When I ask you a question, you respond as a team. You say, ‘Yes, sir.’ Is that understood?”
The response was better than before, but nowhere near where Cody wanted it. He raised his voice again. “I said … is that understood?”
This time most of the team figured out what they were doing wrong. Their voices came together again in a fairly loud chorus of “Yes, sir,” and “Yes, Coach.”
Cody caught the satisfied nods from his assistant coaches. They were making progress. “Good. Now let’s get to work.”
The afternoon teamwork was long and arduous, and temperatures hovered in the high nineties. Cody gave them numerous water breaks, and at the last one DeMetri approached him. “Guys are going through the motions.” He looked ready to cry, sweat pouring down his face. “I’ve been praying for this team …