Chapter 4

Milo

 

 

They sometimes say that fate has a way of making things work out, and I believed it. Last season I had fucked up. I fucked up bad, and I could admit it. When I got benched and sat down as the backup quarterback, I wasn’t all that surprised. It sucked, but I knew it was my own fault.

Sitting on the bench was not my idea of fulfilling my dreams of playing in the NFL. In fact, I could see those dreams evaporating before my very eyes. I was twenty-seven, and my career was over. At least I’d thought it was until I got a call that reminded me of an old saying one of my social workers had always told me. When one door closes, look for a window.

Coach Summers was my window. He had been pulled up to the NFL three years ago, and his luck had not been so great either. He needed me, or I needed him, one or the other. It didn’t matter. I was back in the game and had another chance to make my dreams come true.

“Hey, Coach!” I greeted him.

We were meeting at a restaurant to catch up, now that all the business had been taken care of.

“You’re looking good, Milo!” he said, standing to shake my hand.

“How’s it going?” I asked him, taking my seat at the small table. The waiter quickly took my drink order. Wanting to make a good impression, I ordered a Coke instead of alcohol.

“Not as great as I would like, but I’m hoping you can change that for me.”

I nodded. “I hope so too. So, what happened to your QB?”

He shook his head in frustration. “First guy goes and gets his leg broke, and no, he wasn’t on the field. The dipshit slipped at home while walking to his pool. Then my backup went and got a couple ribs broke. That one was on the field, and you can bet the line has already been put on notice.”

“I hope I can help you turn this place around,” I told him sincerely.

“You damn well better. From what I understand, your agent negotiated one hell of a deal for a benched quarterback. You want to tell me what that was all about?”

I took a deep breath, knowing I couldn’t lie.

“I got into the club and party scene, Coach. I was late for practice a few times, and I just wasn’t giving my best.”

Nodding, he went on. “I get it. You aren’t the first one to fall into that trap. You know I don’t tolerate that kind of behavior. I hope that’s all in your past.”

“It is. I learned my lesson the hard way. I promise, I’m beyond all that. Thank you for giving me the chance to prove myself.”

We finished our meals, and I promised to see him tomorrow for the first practice.

Walking into the locker room on the first day was a lot like walking into a new school. Thankfully, my time in the foster care system had given me plenty of practice with that. It was always a little tense, and I knew I was replacing two QBs that were pissed because I was taking their jobs. If I could prove myself to be better than them, I knew I would hold the position as starting quarterback, even when they healed up and got cleared to play.

This situation was a little different, considering I had played against this team and the first-string quarterback and won. I could admit I hadn’t been very gracious about it, and there had been some things said face to face and on social media.

“Ready to walk into the lion’s den?” Coach Summers asked, meeting me in front of the locker rooms.

I grinned. “No time like the present. I promise to be humble.”

He guffawed.

“Okay, humbler than I have been. Baby steps.”

He pulled open the door, and it felt like the temperature dropped ten degrees. It was going to be a tough crowd.

“Guys, welcome your new quarterback. Let’s not let this one get broken,” he announced.

“Hey, guys. Look, I want to clear the air. I can be a real ass sometimes, and I’m sorry about that. On a good note, I’m a great team player. I’m not an ass to my teammates.”

There were a lot of grunts, groans, and F-bombs directed at me, and I wasn’t surprised.

“Look, he’s your quarterback. I don’t care if you hate his guts off the field, but on the field, you better protect him. Got it?” Coach said, in his authoritative, no bullshit voice.

The response was less than lukewarm, but honestly, I couldn’t expect much more. I would just have to prove myself. That was the only way I was going to win these guys over. Play hard and keep my mouth shut. I could do that.

Coach left and headed for his office, so I was forced to deal with the guys on my own. I wasn’t too worried. This was a situation I had seen plenty of times in the past. Usually, I was on the other side of the coin. I was the guy in the locker room, already established on the team and giving the newbie a cold welcome.

“Alright, I know I’ve been a real dick to a few of you, but let’s put that aside and play ball together, okay?” I said, hoping I sounded enthusiastic.

“Well, don’t get comfortable. These ribs will heal soon enough, and I’ll be taking my place back,” the benched quarterback growled.

I shrugged a shoulder. “That’s fine. In the meantime, wouldn’t it be great if this team was able to make it to the playoffs so you have a chance to play?”

He grumbled something under his breath. I stared down the remaining few who chose to try and intimidate me with evil looks before finding my locker and stripping out of my clothes. I was nervous as hell, but I wouldn’t let them know. Never show any fear. That was a lesson I’d learned as a kid, and it still served me well today.

I changed and headed straight for the field. The atmosphere in the locker room was a bit too tense for me. I was going to step on some toes, but I didn’t give a shit. This was my chance, and I was going to take it. Broken rib guy could keep his sorry ass on the bench. He sucked. He only got a shot at first-string because the real QB was injured. He didn’t have a chance of making it in the NFL. I knew that, and I had a feeling he knew that, which was why he was feeling so threatened.

“You’ll be alright,” a voice from behind me said.

I turned around to see an unfamiliar face headed for the bench. He was a small guy, and I pegged him for either a running back or kicker.

“Thanks.”

“Hey, I’m Luke Dawson. They weren’t exactly friendly when I came on board a few weeks back. We can be the newbies together. I’m a running back, or at least that’s what I thought I was. I haven’t exactly got any playing time in yet.”

I nodded my head in understanding. So many college guys thought they struck gold when they got drafted. What they didn’t realize was that making first string in the NFL was tough. They could very well be on the team and never play a game.

“Milo Pastek. Good to meet you, and really happy to know there’s at least one friendly face on the team,” I said with a grin.

“Want to toss a ball a bit before the rest of then get out here? It’d be great to feel like a real player.”

I looked at the coaches huddled together down the field.

“Sure, we can do that. It doesn’t look like they’re ready for us anyway.”

It felt good to relax a little and enjoy something I hadn’t been able to do in a long while.

“You boys ready to get started?” Coach Summers yelled to everyone.

The relaxing part of practice was long gone. We’d been put through a series of grueling drills, and I was dripping sweat. I had to get used to the heat of Miami again. It had been a while since I had to train in the heat and humidity since I’d been up north for the past several years. Up there, hot meant eighty degrees. I’d kill for that weather right now.

“Are we going to be game ready on Monday?” Coach Summers yelled.

“Yes, sir!” the team shouted back.

Guys began shuffling off the field, but Coach Summers asked me to stay back.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“Are you ready?”

“I think so.”

He shook his head.

“I asked if you’re ready.”

“Yes. I can do this. I’m ready. I’ll keep studying the plays. I won’t let you down.”

“Having only two practices makes me nervous. I don’t expect anything spectacular, but I need you to prove to these guys and the owners of the team that I made the right choice in picking you up. Don’t let me down, Pastek,” he said and walked off the field.

“No pressure,” I mumbled under my breath.

By Monday afternoon, I was all nerves. I had to go for a slow run to help calm down and get my head straight. By the time I made it to the locker room, I was in a good place. I couldn’t say the same for the rest of the team.

Coach gave a hell of a pep talk and sent us out of the locker room. I felt that familiar stirring of adrenaline as I walked towards the sidelines. The crowds were screaming and cheering. Soon, I hoped they would be screaming my name.

The game didn’t go as well as I had hoped. I hadn’t sucked, but holy shit our defense was awful. Now I knew why the team was 0-3 for the season. It didn’t matter how many points we got on the board; the damn defense couldn’t make a stop. I was disheartened but had full confidence in Coach Summers. He would start kicking some ass and whip the defense into shape.

“Milo! Milo!” I heard my name being shouted.

I turned to see a very attractive female reporter on the sidelines, and was very surprised that she apparently wanted me.

“Hi,” I said, walking over to where the blond woman was holding out a microphone.

“Milo Pastek, how’s it feel to be back in Miami after all these years?”

I immediately put on my best public persona, one that had managed to charm fans and sportscasters for years. A little flirting with the ladies was one way to ensure the interview went my way.

“It’s great. I missed it and couldn’t be happier to be back. I especially missed all the beautiful woman down here.”

The woman pretended to be embarrassed, but I knew the dance all too well. “This was your first game as starting quarterback. Are you disappointed with the performance of your defensive line?”

It was a loaded question, and although I was very disappointed, I could never publicly say that. “Not at all. Those guys played their butts off. We’re all getting used to each other. I have full confidence in Coach Summers and know he’ll pull us all together in no time.”

The woman nodded her head, and before she could ask her next question, a little girl went streaking by yelling, “Papa, Papa.”

My attention faltered for a brief moment, but the reporter pulled me right back in.

“Is this your last year in the game?”

“What? Hell no! I’m just getting started!” I shot back, only a little perturbed I would even be asked the question.

She batted her eyelashes, “Will you be starting in the game next Sunday?” she asked.

“I hope so, but that’s a question for the coach. My job is to be ready. I feel like I am just getting started. This team only had two practices together before this game,” I gave her my best charming smile, “and look how well we did. Imagine how awesome we’ll be after a couple of weeks together.”

The reporter started to say something else, but I politely excused myself. I looked back to see the coach holding the little girl while talking to a reporter. That was new. I didn’t even think to ask the man if he’d remarried. If so, good for him. I truly respected Coach Summers and wanted the best for him.