Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24418 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24418 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
“Really?” She pops up from the chair with that bright smile of hers. Too bright.
“Yeah, really.”
“Awesome!” Tins practically hops after me to catch up.
I have truly kicked off this year with a bang. There’s no way things could get worse.
Right?
Chapter Two
COACH SHAY
“Take a lap, O’Doyle!” The sophomore who thought I couldn’t hear him rolls his eyes. “Now it’s two!”
“Come on, Coach Shay, I didn’t mean it,” he pleads, but I shake my head and point. His sigh is dramatic as he huffs towards the edge of the field and starts to jog.
My baseball cap is pulled down low, and I’ve got my sunglasses on, but I see everything. These boys think I’m stupid, and no matter how many times they get caught, they keep doing the same dumb shit.
The defensive coordinator runs another drill, and I stand back, watching the players. This is my first year at Legend Prep, and it will be my last. My job here as head coach is temporary, and I’m fine with that. Dealing with rich assholes and their offspring isn’t what I dreamed of when I retired from the NFL last year.
A friend of mine has this position full-time, but he’s taken a year-long sabbatical to stay at home with his wife and new baby. When Coach Mayson first asked me to cover for him, I was surprised, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Mayson's wife had a really difficult pregnancy, and their daughter was born two months early. Since then, he hasn’t left their side, but he didn’t want to risk losing his good-paying job. He also needs to deliver a win in their division to keep it next year.
When Mayson called me, I knew I had to step up. He was one of the best trainers and coaches I had before I was drafted, and I owed my career to him. He and I share a coaching style, and I already knew his playbook. It was the same one he used to make me run.
“How are we looking, Coach Bill?” I ask the defensive coordinator. “Will they be ready for Friday?”
“Yes, sir.” Bill is about thirty years older than me, but it’s not about age on the football field. It’s about rank.
“Good man.” I nod at him and then grab the whistle from around my neck. After I blow on it twice in quick succession, I cup my hands around my mouth. “Bring it in, boys.” When the kid on the track turns around, I shake my head. “Not you, O’Doyle!”
I wait for the rest of the team to come over and take a knee. Once they are all listening, I talk about the plays we're going to run on Friday and that everyone should be rested up. It’s the first game of the season, and I need a win. Hell, I need a win every Friday until the season is over. For Mayson to keep his job I need things to go as smoothly as possible in his absence.
“I’m going to end practice early today so you guys can get some rest. The pep rally is tomorrow afternoon, so make sure you wear your jerseys.”
I do my best to give them a pep talk and then I tell the guys to hit the showers. I even wave for O’Doyle to go in with them, and he acts like I’ve cut his prison sentence in half.
I tell the other coaches I'll clean up since I know they’ve all got families to get home to. There’s no one waiting for me back at my rental house, so I grab the equipment and carry it into the gym. It’s been a few weeks since school started, and I think we’re all starting to find our rhythm. For me, it’s a lot of alone time, but I don’t hate it. At least they didn't ask me to teach a class. I’ve got my own office, and I manage the football team, but that’s all I’ve been hired to do to cover for Mayson. Someone else is taking care of his classes, and that’s one of the reasons I agreed to do this job.
I’m sure I could figure something out, but I’m not qualified to be a teacher. Nor do I want to deal with kids I can’t yell at to run laps. I’m honestly not sure how to get through to people otherwise.
When I go into the gym, I’m surprised to see people there, but then I remember that this is the first time since I started that I’ve ended practice before dark.
There’s a guy with his arm in a cast standing next to a trampoline, and when I look at what he’s doing, I have to hide my smirk.
One thing Mayson failed to tell me was that the school's mascot was a beaver. I’m sure he didn’t want to hear the jokes he’d already heard a thousand times but come on. What kind of school has a fucking beaver as a mascot?