“Syd!” Colin’s voice echoes through the house as I pass his office. “Can you come in here?”
I poke my head in, curious. “What’s going on?”
He’s holding a piece of paper, a grin on his face. “I’ve got the roster for this season.” He hands it to me, and I scan the names.
Tristan Ross— Incoming Freshman—Quarterback
Lucas Alba— Incoming Freshman— Running Back
Connor Wilson— Returning Junior— Wide Receiver
Ben Higgins— Returning Senior— Wide Receiver
Brody Boyle— Returning Senior— Left Tackle
Jake Morgan— Returning Junior— Right Tackle
Scott Frye— Returning Junior— Left Guard
Ryan DaSilva— Returning Senior— Center
Liam Peters— Incoming Freshman— Right Guard
Dylan Carter— Incoming Freshman— Tight End
Derek Knight— Sophomore Transfer— Middle Linebacker
Cory Parsons— Returning Junior— Outside Linebacker
Ian Carr— Incoming Freshman— Outside Linebacker
Zack Alves— Returning Senior— Safety
Eli Lambert— Junior Transfer— Safety
Trevor Smith— Returning Sophomore— Cornerback
Christian Hall— Returning Sophomore— Cornerback
Shawn Witherspoon— Sophomore Transfer— Defensive tackle
Miles Claypool— Returning Sophomore— Defensive tackle
Brian Driscoll—Returning Sophomore— Defensive end
CJ Andrews— Incoming Freshman— Defensive end
Alexander James— Sophomore Transfer— Running Back
Excitement bubbles up inside me. I can’t wait for the summer to end, to step back onto campus, to start my role as assistant coach.
I’m also eager for Sophie to join me, for us to kick off our sophomore year as dorm room buddies.
“You’re familiar with some of the players from the games, but we’ve got new freshmen and transfers joining the team.” Colin explains. “They’ve sent in footage from their high school games so we can assess their skills before practice.”
My eyes light up. “Can I watch the footage with you?”
Colin chuckles, handing me a bag filled with tapes. “That’s why I called you in here, Assistant Coach.” He teases. “Do you have time now, or are you too busy to hang out with your old man?”
I roll my eyes, a smirk playing on my lips as I take the bag from him. “You’re on popcorn duty this time.”
I pull out a tape and slide it into the player. I grab a notepad and the roster list from his desk, settling onto the couch just as Colin returns with a huge bowl of popcorn.
“First up, Tristan Ross. Incoming freshman from Virginia, played Quarterback in high school,” I announce, as Colin takes a seat next to me.
“Okay. Let’s check this out.” Colin’s attention sharpens as we both munch on popcorn. “We need a solid quarterback. Damien was our guy last year, but he graduated and got drafted to the Saints.”
We’re watching what appears to be a YouTube video someone shot from the stands. Ross is scanning the field for an open receiver; finding none, he tucks the ball and bolts for the endzone. With his lean, six-foot frame, Ross displays impressive strength and speed, outpacing the opposing team’s defense and dancing his way into the endzone for the winning touchdown.
“Man, that kid is quick,” Colin says, a hint of nostalgia in his voice.
“He could be a running back,” I joke. “Who’s next?”
We go through tape after tape of incoming freshmen and transfers.
“And finally,” Colin says, pulling out the last tape from the bag, “Alexander James, a sophomore transfer from California. He was a high school quarterback, led his team to the championship after a decade of losses. But for some reason, he wants to be a running back.”
“That’s strange.” I refocus on the TV, studying the player’s skills.
This video seems to be shot from the sidelines. A man’s voice cheers from behind the camera, “Go, son! You got this!”
The score is tied, the clock is about to run out, and Alexander James, the underdog team’s quarterback, intercepts a pass at the eighteen-yard line. He hurls the ball as far as he can, and it lands perfectly in the hands of his team’s tight end at the opposite ten-yard line.
“Holy shit! Rewind that!” I tell Colin, who pauses and rewinds the tape.
“That was a seventy-seven-yard throw! I’ve never seen a non-pro throw that far!” I exclaim.
“It’s definitely rare,” Colin agrees, packing up the tapes and putting them back in the bag. “So, what do you think?” he asks, turning to me.
“I think James is the quarterback we need.”
“And what about Tristan Ross?”
“He’d be a great running back.”
Colin nods, deep in thought, when my phone rings next to me on the couch.
“Hey, Soph,” I answer, glancing at my dad.
“Guess who just made record time in the last six hours?”
“Wait, what? That’s almost impossible.”
“Well, I didn’t eat or drink anything so I could avoid all those gross rest stops.”
“So where are you now? What state?”
“I’m forty minutes from your house, bitch! So get some blankets and pillows ready for a sleepover, and I need pizza and a giant watermelon slushy because I am parched!”
“Forty minutes!” I jump off the couch, shocked and excited. “Okay, I’ll get everything ready. Can’t wait to see you!”
“Me too!”
“Okay, bye!” I tell Colin as I start cleaning up the popcorn. “Sophie’s almost here.”
“And I’m back to being outnumbered by women,” Colin jokes. “You better warn Drew. Sophie’s like a tornado.”
“Oh, I know. She’s already made her list of demands.” Colin chuckles at my comment.
“She’s like Uncle Andy, but the female version, which is way worse. You sure you want to live with someone that crazy?”
I shoot him a glare. “I’m telling her you said that.”
“Like hell you are!” Colin tosses popcorn at me, and we both laugh.
“I need to go get pizza and a slushy. Can I borrow the car?”
“Sure. Just drive safe.”
“Always. We can go over anything else tomorrow—”
“No need. I think we covered everything we needed to before our first official practice next weekend. You did good, Coach.” Colin smiles.
“Assistant Coach,” I correct, as always.
“Go before Sophie gets here.”
“Okay, love you.” I head for the door.
“Love you too, Sydney,” Colin calls after me, his voice warm.
