CHAPTER 18
BRADY
Getting my head completely in the game was hard, but seeing the fans who had driven out here in the stands, cheering with their banners held high and their cowbells ringing, reminded me of the importance of tonight. I wasn’t out here worried about a girl who I couldn’t stop thinking about. She was okay now. We were okay. And the idea of a future for us excited rather than scared me. I was ready to win this game now. This wasn’t just my future weighing the balance. It was all of ours. Even those of us who would hold this as our last memory of football. It would mean something.
By halftime we were down a touchdown. The Panthers were tough, and even with all the prep work, we were having to be on our very best game to keep up with them. West slung his helmet across the field house as he let out a string of words that I knew Coach would overlook. We hadn’t played a game this hard all season.
Gunner slammed his fist into the old, beat-up lockers that were reserved for the Panthers’ opposing team. He didn’t let a string of curses fly from his mouth, but he continued to beat the locker a few more times before resting his forehead on it. We had two quarters left to change this.
Coach would talk to us and remind us who we were and what we’d come here for. He was good at halftime talks. I could count on him to get the team’s heads back up and ready to go fight.
There would be roars and fists in the air as we charged back onto the field. This wasn’t the first halftime we had been behind. It was just the first time we had been shaken. The way we had played tonight should have had us a touchdown or more ahead. Not behind.
“Where is your head tonight?” Gunner asked me as he lifted himself up from the locker he’d been leaning on.
Was he blaming me for this? “Not sure what you mean by that,” I replied, anger slowly building inside me. The accusation on his face was enough to tell me he was pointing at me instead of all of us. “This is a team. Where is your head?” I shot back.
“Fuck that. You’ve got the ball. You run the team. And I’ve been playing ball with you since we were kids. Your head isn’t with us out there. So where the fucking hell is it? Because we need it on that field.” He was yelling now.
“Back off, Gunner,” West said, stepping up between us. Nash and Asa had also moved closer to us. As if a fight was about to start and they all needed to be there to break it up.
“No! He is going to lose us this game. His head isn’t there, and we need it!” Gunner yelled. “Hunter is a damn sophomore and not ready for this. We can’t hand the game over to him. We need Brady to get it together before we walk back onto that field.”
I wanted to get in his face and tell him just where he could shove his accusation. The idea of slamming my fist into his face was also appealing. However, he was right. My head wasn’t completely there. Gunner was the only one with balls enough to point it out.
“Go drink some water and calm down,” Asa told Gunner. They all thought we were about to tie up. Any other time, I just might do it. But tonight Gunner was right. This was my fault. Admitting it hurt, but it was true.
“What’s going on out there, boys?” Coach asked as he entered the field house. The local media had stopped him for an interview on his way to us, so he’d missed the confrontation.
Everyone but Gunner turned to look at Coach while Gunner’s eyes stayed glued to me. He was waiting on his answer. He wasn’t getting one because the truth would cause more than just me messing up. Hell would break loose.
“I’m off tonight,” I replied to Coach’s question while keeping eye contact with Gunner. “This is all on me.”
That was the first moment I’d had to do this in a locker room in all the years I’d been playing. It had never been me. It had always been someone else I had to talk out of whatever funk they were dealing with. This was hard. Like admitting I was a failure.
“Then let’s fix this. You’re the best senior quarterback in Alabama, Brady. Or did you forget that?” Coach replied.
I hadn’t forgotten. I may not agree, but I hadn’t forgotten the title had been given to me in the latest stats. If I lost this, Riley would blame herself. This wasn’t her fault. It was mine. This wasn’t just for me; it was for this entire team and our town.
“I’m ready,” I told him.
Coach nodded and started in on his plan for the next half. Now we had seen the Panthers’ play and their strategy, we had to adjust ours. I soaked it in and managed to put Riley Young out of my mind. Tonight I had a lot to prove. Especially now.
As we ran back onto the field, Gunner came up beside me. “We’ve got this.”
That was his way of apologizing. Making sure we were okay.
I nodded in agreement. Because we were. We’d win this game tonight. Then we would prepare for next week. It was almost at an end for us and Lion football. Graduation would be our next step.
I was ready for the future, but the smell of the fresh-cut grass and the cheer in the crowd while the guys who learned to play football with me when we were kids were all huddled around me—that would be missed. We’d never get that back.
Because of them, because of that memory and all the others that went with it, I gave everything I had and then some I didn’t know I had. With each play called, I focused harder than ever. I drowned out the roar of the fans. I ignored the pop shots called at me from the other team. I had one mission. One drive. To win this game.
And we did. By three touchdowns.