Chapter Four: Conversations - Part One

****Trev****

Two weeks flew by like nothing. Probably because I was insanely busy with my sister’s wedding, a family vacation, and my brother getting engaged. But I didn’t mind the craziness since it helped keep my mind busy and off of having a drink.

I hadn’t been out of rehab for very long, but I was already starting to figure out some things that triggered carvings and what helped. Talking with other people was one thing that worked. Not about the bullshit that most people wanted to talk about, but the honest talking that only happened with family and close friends like Ryan, Stan and Coach.

That was one reason that I was happy to be heading back to Coach’s house. I’d asked for his help with getting me back into shape for the upcoming season and he suggested that I come back after my family vacation.

I hadn’t expected the same three cars to be there when I pulled into the driveway. He hadn’t mentioned family being around during the week that I was staying there and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. Sure, things were a little better with Pam and me, but we weren’t anywhere close to being friends.

And then there was Tiff. I’d avoided her multiple attempts to corner me, but I wasn’t sure I could do it for a whole week and I hoped that Coach was going to keep me busy so I could avoid her without it looking like I was.

I rang the bell and was more than a little relieved when the door flung open and Coach’s ear to ear grin greeted me. “Trev! Come on in!” He patted my back as I walked past and barely closed the door before giving me a bear hug that squeezed all the air out of my lungs. “Good to see you.” He grunted and I nodded as he let me go.

“You too.”

I didn’t even have a chance to catch my breath before Mrs. H. came around the corner from the kitchen. “Oh good! He’s here!” She gave me another hug, one that allowed me to breathe, and looked me over after taking a step back.  “You’re still too skinny, but I can fix that.  I’ve got several pizza’s baking and I’m working on the salad now.”

I chuckled and shook my head at her fusing. “You shouldn’t have gone to that much trouble, Mrs. H. You could have ordered pizza or even heated up a store bought one and I’d have been happy.”

The cross look she gave me reminded me of one of Mom’s. “Nonsense! Besides, homemade pizza always tastes better.”

“Well, I appreciate the effort and I’m sure it’ll be delicious.” I flashed her a smile, one that usually got me out of hot water and she shook her head; pretending to be upset with me by narrowing her eyes and placing her hands on her hips.

“How many times has that smile gotten you out of trouble?”


“More times than I’d like to admit.” I gave her another smile and they both laughed.

Coach and I hung out in his office until the pizzas were ready and walked across the hallway to the dining room. The scene was similar to lunch a couple weeks before, minus Tiff barging in or bending over in front of me.  There was one change that threw me for a loop though. When we were sitting down, I happened to glance over at Pam and she gave me a small smile. I couldn’t remember the last time she’d done it and I sat staring at my plate, trying to remember when it was.

“Did you have a nice vacation with your family?” It almost didn’t register that Mrs. H. had asked a question, since I was busy staring a hole in my plate. It only hit me when I looked up and saw everyone staring me.  

“Oh…yeah, I did. It was relaxing and it gave me a chance to go over plays and figure out where I want to improve; having competition will do that.” I hinted about Ryan and Coach sat forward in his seat.

“He’s good, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, he is and he’s a nice guy so it makes it really hard to not like him.” I joked and got serious again. “He’s also better than he wants to give himself credit for too.” Coach nodded.

“You didn’t spend your whole vacation reading and watching football, did you?” Mrs. H. half joked.

I chuckled. “You sound like my Mom. Let’s just say that I spent the amount of time I thought I needed doing prep work.”

“I don’t know how anyone could think of football while visiting such a romantic place…” I had to give some credit to Tiff; her timing was impeccable. But my focus on my recovery wasn’t the only reason why I wouldn’t even think about testing those waters. She was Coach’s daughter, and I wasn’t about to do something so stupid.   

“I…suppose that some would find it romantic. I know my brother George did.” It wasn’t the greatest answer and I was sure she’d try again. But she didn’t get a chance to thanks to some unexpected reinforcements.

“I’ve heard the snorkeling there is amazing. Did you have a chance to?” As baffled as I was by Pam’s smile, I was even more so from her help with Tiff and my answer was just as guarded.

“I did; several times. I would recommend it to anyone who goes there.” She nodded, gave me a little smile and looked over at her mom who’d steered the conversation in another direction.

I kept staring at her and wondered what version of the Twilight Zone I was in. Not that I minded her smiling at or helping me. But it was completely uncharted territory and I wasn’t sure what to do about it.

My journey into the Twilight Zone continued after dinner, when we sat down in the living room and Coach and I started talking about what he had in store for me that week. We hadn’t gone over many specifics during the previous ones, partially because he wanted to see me in action before figuring out what we should work on, and also because he liked being a sneaky bastard.

“When I mentioned to some of the players that you were coming in, several of them talked about wanting to be here to meet you. Would it be okay if we go down to the stadium tomorrow morning? Some of them even hoped to catch a couple balls.” It was a question disguised as a statement and I chuckled as I tried to get him to admit what we would really be doing.

“Are we just throwing balls, or are we running plays?” He smiled but didn’t say a word.

“Really, Nick…he just got back from vacation.” Mrs. H. protested.

“Oh, I don’t mind. I just want to make sure I know what I’m getting myself into tomorrow especially since he’s agreed to help whip me back into shape.”

“And what better way to do that, than to have you run plays with some youngsters…” Coach finally revealed the beginnings of his plan and I nodded.

“So we are running plays…” I smiled and everyone laughed.

“I can’t understand why you think you need to get into shape. You look like you’re in great shape to me…” It wasn’t her comment that caught me off guard, it was the way her eyes traveled up and down my body and I actually was at a loss for words.

“There’s a difference between being in shape and being in shape to play. It’s like running, you have to build up endurance.” It was Pam to the rescue…again and I found it just as confusing as the first time.

“Exactly, and playing football not only involves preparing your body, but also your mind by knowing plays and reading defensive and offensive lines. Be prepared so you can adjust. The better prepared you are, the easier it is to adjust your strategy and plan of attack or defense.” I hadn’t heard Coach’s motto or followed his advice in years. But the second he said it, I realized that it was exactly what I needed to do if I wanted a shot at getting my job back.

One way to prepare was by reviewing games. Sounds easy, but when it’s reliving how bad you’ve played for the last several years, it quickly loses its appeal. But it’s what I’d done through college and in my early years as a Buck, when I actually played worth anything, and it seemed like a good place to start.

I woke up the second morning at Coach’s determined to bite the bullet and watch myself look like a complete ass on the field. With it being summer, I had my pick of the viewing rooms and went for the one at the end of the hallway. There might’ve only been a handful of people there and the games had already been broadcast around the country, but I didn’t want to draw an audience to watch me do it again.

The beginning games weren’t so bad. I wasn’t as dependent on alcohol at that point, but I could see a steady decline in my performance with each game and by the sixth one I was cursing at myself for being such an idiot.

“God! That was so stupid! Why did I not see that defensive lineman?” I wrote down a note on a pad of paper and fast forwarded to the next play. Sure that I was about to see another mess up. Sure enough, it was me throwing an interception.

“Shit! I completely missed that Anderson was open…” I grabbed the pencil, made another note, and sighed as I reached over to fast forward to the next play.

“He’s not the obvious choice though.” I almost jumped out of my chair. I’d been so caught up in watching that I hadn’t heard anyone come into the room.

I slowly turned around and squinted to see who I already knew was there. It took a second for my eyes to adjust but when they did, I saw Pam with what can only be described as an “Oh shit” look on her face.

“Do you have a habit of sneaking in rooms and watching people when they’re not looking?” I was more than a little upset when she first revealed herself, but seeing her face turn red with embarrassment softened my annoyance a bit.

“I’m sorry. I got curious and wondered what you were watching. I’ll just go.” She quickly turned to leave but I wanted to know why she’d made the comment.

“I didn’t say I minded. I just wondered if it was a habit of yours.” She turned back around but looked at the screen instead of me and I spun my chair back to look at it too. “Why’d you say that about Anderson? That he wasn’t the obvious choice?” I asked her as I rewound the play.

“Because I have a big mouth and can’t keep comments to myself.” She blurted out and I chuckled.

“That may be true, but I’d still like to know…” I hinted and she walked a little further into the room.

She shrugged as she continued to look at the screen. “He’s not someone that you usually throw to.”

“But that’s what would have made the play work.” I said as I looked back at the screen.

“It probably would have…”

“But…”

“I didn’t say but.” She snapped but didn’t leave.

I looked sideways at her, knowing she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from letting me know what she thought. She sighed and continued. “You didn’t read the defense correctly. If you had, you would’ve realized that the player you intended to throw to wasn’t an option and would have noticed Anderson was wide open.”

I nodded and completely agreed with her. “You’re right; and any decent quarterback would’ve seen that. Doesn’t help that the quarterback on the video had a massive hangover that day either.” I said with complete disgust.

“That may be true, but…” She sat down in a chair across the aisle and pointed to the screen. “…if you fast-forward to the next play, you might see something that the quarterback on the screen did right.”

I felt my brows come together as I looked at the screen in confusion and fast forwarded the video until the next play came up. Tiny snapped the ball, I caught it and looked to the intended receiver, pumped, but then turned to throw the ball to Anderson who was open. Exactly what I should have done in the previous play.

“See?” She crossed her arms in front of her and glanced over at me with an “I told you so” look on her face.

I nodded as I continued to look at the screen. “Doesn’t change the fact that I missed it the first time.”

“Trev…” She sighed and turned so she could look at me instead of the screen. “You’re being way too hard on yourself. Every player makes mistakes.”

I started to disagree with her, but something else popped into my head and I had to ask her about it.. “How did you remember what the next play was?”

She whispered something under her breath and squirmed in her seat as she looked up at the ceiling. “I have a photographic memory.”

“You have a what?”

“A photographic memory, you know…when I see something I remember it.” She said louder and with a hint of testiness. I stared at her, completely dumbfounded.  I’d known her since we were eighteen and had never known that about her.

“What happens next?” I tested her because I still didn’t fully believe it was true.

She sighed and looked straight ahead at the screen. “You throw to Washburn, he catches it, and you gain ten yards.”

I went to the next play and watched as it happened, exactly like she said it would. “Whoa.” I whispered my amazement and kept staring at the screen.

“Anyway, you did some good stuff last season, and you’re trying to get better, so don’t be so hard on yourself.” She said matter-of-factly and stood up. “I’ll leave you to it…I’m sorry I interrupted you.” She scooted the chair back up to the table and started to walk back down the aisle to the door.

She might’ve spied and interrupted me, but it didn’t mean that I wasn’t grateful for her advice and unexpected pep-talk. I turned around and called after her. “Pam?”

She stopped and glanced over her shoulder and I once again felt like I was in some version of the Twilight Zone as I added, “Thanks.”

I got a nod and she left the room, as quietly as she entered it.