****Trev****
"Come on guys! We're only behind by fourteen!" I
clapped my hands and tried to encourage the offense as they ran off the field,
but my efforts didn’t do much good. Every single guy that walked past me looked
like a beaten down dog; none more so than Ryan.
"Shit!" No matter what I do, what we try, we can't
get a guy open in the end zone; not that it matters since I can't seem to keep
from throwing interceptions!" I knew exactly how he felt and would’ve
reacted the same way if I’d thrown even one interception, but I also knew that
if he focused on his mistakes, his confidence in himself would falter even more
and lead to other missteps.
"Don't beat yourself up." I gave his back a couple
of hard pats. "It's pre-season, they've got one of the quickest defenses,
and we're only down by two touchdowns. We'll get another chance when we get the
ball back." Most would consider it
a miracle that we weren’t trailing by more. Our opponent was the Pleasantville
Panthers who were considered the team to beat that season and early predictions
had them as a shoo-in for the Super Bowl. Any team would have a hard time
beating them, even one that had a solid starting quarterback.
Not that Ryan wasn’t good. He’d started all three of our
preseason games and played great during the first two, but the Panthers were on
a whole other level and would’ve rattled most veteran quarterbacks. His
inexperience and lack of confidence in himself didn’t help him and even though
I wanted a chance to play, I found myself trying to help him. It was an unusual
situation that gave me conflicting feelings; one moment rooting for him as a
mentor and coach, and then the next wishing that I was the one on the field.
But until Coach White made that decision, I set my mind to helping Ryan and the
team.
I walked over to the bench with him to talk about some
adjustments that he could make, but stopped at the sound of Coach’s voice. "Trev!"
My gut sank knowing that more than likely Coach was coming over to tell him
that he wasn’t going back in. "You still feel warmed up?" I nodded.
He thought for a moment and even though the sound of the
crowd, pads hitting on the field, and guys on the sidelines talking should have
been deafening, they all seemed to fade away as I anxiously waited for Coach to
make a decision. The slow nod of his head signaled that he had. "Get your
helmet; you're going in.” He finally spoke the words that I longed to hear and
my sigh of relief was met with a disappointed one from Ryan. The reversal of
roles brought a new set of conflicting feelings; excitement over being the
chosen quarterback but also sympathy for Ryan for becoming the one that stood
on the sideline.
He gave me a faint smile when I patted his back one last
time and I darted over to the bench where my helmet sat. As my hands grasped
the facemask, the crowd let out a big roar and the defense celebrated the fact
that they kept the Panthers’ offense from scoring any points. Right before I
turned to go on the field, Ryan gave me two big pats on the back and we
exchanged a smile. It partially surprised me that as I ran up to the guys on
the field, the crowd began to cheer and I let myself feel the excitement of it
for a moment; the hard, fast beating of my heart, the surge of adrenaline that
pumped through my body and gave my muscles a burst of energy. . .I had missed
it more than I had let anyone know.
As I approached the guys, I took several deep breaths and
tried to center the surge of energy the crowd gave me. After two plays, we had
only gained two yards and as I looked up at the clock and saw the last four
minutes start to tick down, I knew we needed to do something unexpected and
called a timeout.
"This is fucking insane!" Tiny complained as we
stood on the sidelines with Coach White and Ned. "We can't do shit against
them."
I looked around at the frustrated and disappointed faces and
got pissed. "You're right, not with that kind of attitude!"
"Spare us the sunshine speech, Davila." Brewster
rolled his eyes.
