A Different Side (University Park #4)

by C. M. Doporto

  “Raven, where were you today?” Coach Stevens, the university’s strength and conditioning coach, held a stern expression as he folded his arms across his chest.

  I dropped my backpack next to a chair. I preferred not to discuss my tutoring sessions and wondered why Coach Anderson hadn’t informed him in private. “Um, Coach Anderson didn’t mention I wouldn’t be working out with you on Tuesdays and Thursdays?”

  Stevens slapped his forehead. “Oh, that’s right. I forgot.” I wasn’t sure why Coach kept him on staff. The guy could never remember a damn thing and his workout methods were ridiculously old school. Since he and Coach played football in college together, I’m sure that was the reason. “Make sure you get your workouts in because I won’t be hanging around after practice.”

  “Yes, sir.” I nodded and hit the chair. Working out after practice, totally sucked. I’d be dead tired.

  Josh leaned over. “Hey, we got the hook up.”

  I eyed him. “What hook up?”

  “You know Luke Thompson, the baseball player?”

  I had to stop and think a moment. The name sounded familiar and after a few seconds, I recalled him. “Yeah, I met him last year. I’ve talked to him a couple of times. Why?”

  “The word is he’s a damn good trainer, works part-time at the rec center. Anyway, Shawn and I ran into him earlier and he said for us to meet him tonight.”

  “He’s going to train us?” I took out my playbook, ready to take notes.

  “Yes. All we have to do is show up.” Josh sounded optimistic.

  “Does he know what he’s doing?” Did a baseball guy know what football players needed? The sports were different, and I didn’t want to waste my time doing exercises not beneficial to me.

  “Yeah, I overheard a couple of the guys on the team talking about him. He knows all the cutting edge workouts, not like this shit Stevens has us doing. He’s a bad ass, I’m telling you. I think we should give him a shot.”

  I shrugged. “If you say so.”

  The players began to fill the room and Coach Anderson stood at the front. “Alright, guys. We’ve got some competition ahead of us this weekend...”

  After a hard practice, Josh and I headed to our apartment. I was beat and wasn’t sure I’d be able to make it to the rec center later, but I had to or I’d pay for it. Not only from the coaches and the team, but also on the field. We were facing a team we lost to last year and I was determined to show them we were better and stronger.

  My phone buzzed and I hesitated to look at it. “Shit,” I sighed, seeing Macy’s name on the screen — another girl I could barely handle. She was a regular hook up and pulled her roommates in on several occasions, making it totally worth my time. But right now, every part of my body was in pain. The last thing I needed was Macy and her groupies all over me. I needed to save my energy for a workout, not sex.

  I powered down my phone and tossed it on the bed. For several minutes, I lay there, my thoughts going back to Lexi. I recalled the look in her eyes and the reaction she had when I winked at her. It was obvious she wasn’t a Macy or a Joni, and I had to keep asking myself why I went along with Joni’s phone sexapade?

  Idiot.

  I still wondered whether she told Dr. Phillips, but all I could do was wait and hope she’d continue helping me. Because I honestly wanted her help. Never had a person taken the time to figure out why I struggled. Lexi did. And that made me want to get to know her. Everything about her. Because one thing was certain: there was something about her. Something I liked. Maybe it was that don’t-take-crap attitude or the fact that she was trying hard not to like me. Either way, over time, we’d get to know each other really well.

  “Get up, man.” Josh’s voice waved over me. “C’mon, you lazy ass, it’s already after seven.”

  I pulled my pillow over my face. “I’m not going.”

  “The hell you aren’t.” Josh snatched the covers off me in a quick sweep. “Shawn’s waiting for us. Let’s go.”

  I moaned as I turned on my right shoulder. A nagging pain that had plagued me off and on throughout the years had returned. “Shit, I don’t know. My shoulder hurts.”

  Josh threw my shoes at me. “Quit complaining and let’s go.”

  I rolled out of bed and slipped on my shoes, hoping I wouldn’t regret my decision tomorrow. I needed my throwing arm in top shape. Grabbing my bag, loaded with my gear, I followed Josh out the door.

  “Damn, took long enough,” Shawn said as I opened the car door.

  “Sorry, man.” I ducked my head and crawled in to the backseat of his Camaro.

  “Lazy ass over here didn’t want to get up.” Josh gave me a nudge and I toppled in, landing on my shoulder once again.

  “Fu—” I groaned, grabbing my upper arm. “I think I messed up my arm today.”

  “Eh, you’ll be alright.” Shawn waved off my comment. “Just need a good workout.”

  “Slap some Tiger Balm on it and you’ll be good to go.” Josh turned up the radio and Shawn sped down the road toward campus.

  Shawn parked the car at the athletics facility and we crossed the street. Since we usually worked out at our practice facility, I’d only been to the rec center a couple of times. I recalled the additional workout I got last time from a girl who had followed me around as I exercised. I rubbed the scruff on my chin. Maybe this was a good idea, after all.

  We trekked up the sidewalk toward the building. A group of girls wearing tight yoga pants made a U-turn and followed us, proving my theory. I smiled, knowing tonight had promise written all over it. Suddenly, my shoulder felt better and I had more energy.

  “Are those girls following us?” Josh looked over his shoulder.

  “Oh yeah.” I gave them a wink and they waved.

  “Shit. I better call Shelby to come up here.” A worried look formed across Josh’s face as he whipped out his cell phone.

  “Seriously?” Shawn jerked his head. “Can’t you have one night without her?”

  Josh huffed. “I know you hoes don’t understand, but trust me, one day you will.”

  Shawn and I traded glances and broke out in laughter. Seeing myself settled down with one girl would be a cold day in hell.

  As I reached for the door, a girl bolted out the front. I quickly stepped to the side so she didn’t trample me.

  “What’s the rush, sweetie?” Shawn asked as she clipped his arm.

  My head spun around, doing a double take. I swore she looked like Lexi, but whoever she was, she was definitely in a hurry. Either she was pissed, or late for something. My gaze stayed trained on the girl watching as she broke into a sprint and then disappeared into the dark. I squeezed my eyes shut for a second. Why couldn’t I stop thinking about Lexi?

  ***

  Thursday morning arrived before I knew it and the pain in my shoulder wasn’t any better. The workout session with Luke was definitely good, but it didn’t help my injury and neither did yesterday’s workout. I jumped in the shower and turned the water to cold. Every muscle constricted, including one I didn’t want to shrink, but I needed to try to reduce the inflammation.

  “Shit.” I slammed my hand against the tile, pissed. The game was Saturday and I had to be able to play. My team was relying on me, and so was Coach. After standing under the cold water for fifteen minutes, I got dressed, grabbed a protein shake, and headed out the door.

  I thought about my options. I needed to see a trainer before practice, but doing that meant skipping my tutoring session with Lexi, and I really didn’t want to. A part of me wanted to see her. I dropped my shoulders, realizing I sounded like Josh. The pain quickly reminded me I needed therapy. If I didn’t get the throbbing and swelling under control, I’d be so screwed.

  I took out my phone and sent a text to Marcos, one of the trainers, telling him I needed a Stim-PAC. He told me to come in once I got out of class. I agreed, and then scrolled through my contacts, looking for Lexi’s number, but quickly realized I didn’t have it. Based on the way our
last session ended, getting her number would’ve been out of the question. Without much choice, I looked up the number to the writing center and told them to let Lexi know I couldn’t meet her. That would give her some time to forget about what happened and for me to form an apology. It was the least I could do.

  By Saturday, my shoulder was feeling better and I was ready to crush our opponent. During practice, I had sat in a few of the coaching meetings, learning whatever I could about the team we were playing. I wanted to show Coach I was serious about football. It also helped me inspire the team. We were going to win this game.

  “Alright, guys, we’ve got a game to win.” Coach walked into the locker room and we gathered around him. Several of us knelt on one knee, our helmets in our hands, ready to hear his words of wisdom. He was excellent at motivating and propelling the team into the right state of mind. He inspired me to play my best and the thrill of winning filtered through my blood.

  With his hands gripping his waist, he said, “Today we’re facing one of our toughest opponents, but that doesn’t mean we can’t beat them.”

  “Yeah!” Several of the players confirmed his statement.

  “Defense, get in there and hold them so they don’t score. Create a turnover at every opportunity. Offense, you know the plays and what it takes to drive that ball down the field. And I know you can do it. You can win this game!”

  “Yes, sir!” We all agreed.

  “It doesn’t matter what happened last year. Today is a new game. It’s your moment. You take it.” He made a tight fist and shook his hand. “You go for it! Go do what you’ve been practicing to win this game. Win this game for PHU. Show them what the Dragons are made of!”

  “That’s right! We’re going to show ‘em, Coach.” I pumped a fist. The team hollered and energy filled the air.

  Winning energy.

  The right mentality we needed.

  We would win this game.

  “Are you ready?” Coach’s voice lilted.

  “We’re ready.” We clapped.

  “I don’t think I heard you, Dragons.” Coach inclined his ear toward us. “Let me hear you.”

  We rose to our feet and with our helmets held high, said, “We are the Dragons. We play with passion and pride. We fight to the end.”

  “Let’s do this!” Coach roared.

  “PHU! PHU!” we chanted repeatedly as we put on our helmets.

  I led the team out of the locker room, continuing to recite our mantra. The roar reverberated off the concrete as we passed through the tunnel. My heart pumped faster and sweat trickled down my face. The sensations traveling through my body were surreal. Regardless of how many times I’d been down this path, I’d never tire of this excitement. It was what I lived for — the thrill of the game.

  Music wafted through the air and smoke surrounded us. The spirit club ran on to the field, warming up the crowd. The excitement from the team continued to build as the tension increased with every boom funneling through the passageway.

  “Yeah! PHU!” I was pumped and ready to play.

  “Let’s do this.” Shawn grabbed my mask and we rammed our helmets against one another. The blast horn blared and we rushed on to the field. The crowd roared to life as we ran past the thirty, forty, and fifty yard lines. Waves of purple and white covered the stadium, speckled with red and blue. PHU supporters dominated the scene, which always gave me that extra push to do well. The fans were relying on me — on the team — to win this game.

  The team lined up for the kickoff and the ball flew down the field. The opposing team caught it at the fifteen-yard line and ran it to the thirty before we stopped them. The defense held them at bay and on the fourth down, they punted the ball to us. We advanced the ball, earning two more first downs.

  On the second down, we lined up and Matt hiked the ball to me. I faked a pass to Shawn and handed the ball to Josh. He cradled the ball and ran forty-two yards to score the first touchdown of the game.

  “The Marshall’s in town!” The crowd erupted in a cheer. Josh was one of the best running backs in the college football league. Scouts were at every game, talking to him and enticing him with hopes of playing for the pros. Come May, I knew he’d be drafted. I was just glad he decided to finish his senior year instead of going in to the draft like everyone had predicted. The team was stronger with him on it.

  It was a close game, but we managed to stay ahead. At the end of the first half, we were up by seven points. Coach gave us another pumped-up talk and we returned to the field more determined than ever to win. We were neck to neck during the second half, but didn’t back down. With thirty-eight seconds on the clock and the ball in our possession, I turned to Coach for the next play. The other team was expecting us to kneel down and run out the clock. We were ahead by two points and the game was ours.

  “What do you want to do, Coach?” I asked in between breaths.

  Coach closed his eyes for a brief moment and inhaled. His eyes opened and he placed one hand on my shoulder. “Let’s show these assholes who the Dragons are.”

  With enthusiasm, I said, “Yes, sir.”

  Coach had some hard feelings about last year’s game due to some controversial referee calls that caused us to lose. That game crushed our spirit and nothing gave me more pleasure than returning the favor. I fastened my helmet and ran back onto the field. I called the play and we sprang into action.

  Matt snapped the ball to me and instead of kneeling it, like the defense thought, I dropped back to pass. My eyes darted from left to right, searching for Shawn. He wasn’t in place again, so I had to redirect. I turned to my right to see Josh arm-locked with a defensive player. I searched for Quinton, our tight-end, and found him on the ground. With little options, I spotted an opening and rushed twenty-two yards, scoring the last touchdown of the game.

  We had done it!

  We won!

  We’d won the game we were favored to lose.

  Proving once again that we belonged in the South Central Conference. A small town private college that had risen through the ranks at the hands of Coach Allen Anderson. He worked hard at building a successful team and we were going to the big championship. Nothing could stop us now.

  “Raven!” My mom waved to me, getting my attention as I exited the locker room to the area where family and fans waited. My brothers and grandmother were with her. I shuffled through the hordes of people, signing a few autographs as I made my way toward my family. My mom had definitely been a big supporter of my football career. When I was younger, she always found a way for me to attend a football camp every year. Whether that was working overtime, selling baked goods, or holding garage sales, she did whatever it took so I could be successful.

  “Hey.” I pulled both of my brothers into a headlock at the same time, being careful not to hurt my shoulder, which was packed with ice.

  “Stop, man.” Trey slipped from my grip, throwing one of his attitudes. I needed to pull him aside to see what was bugging him, but it would have to wait until later. Ever since our stepdad died, he’d had this shitty attitude. He’d been taking it out on everyone and it was time we had a good brother-to-brother talk.

  “I’m going to get you. You just wait,” Ashton protested, but laughed as I rubbed his head with my knuckles.

  “Yeah, right.” I gave him one more noogie before letting go.

  “You played well, son.” Mom smiled. Her eyes darted toward my shoulder and her smile turned to a frown. “Did you get hurt?” She placed a hand on my injured shoulder, noting the stack of icepacks Marcos had wrapped around my arm after a hefty dose of electrical stimulation therapy. That machine was like a miracle drug, nearly vanishing all traces of pain.

  “I just strained it. I’ll be fine.” I wrapped my arm around her, showing her I could use it, and squeezed. “You didn’t have to wait for me.”

  She patted my chest. “Nonsense. I wanted to congratulate you.” She planted a kiss on my cheek and then wiped her lipstick off with her finger. “I saw
that guy approach you as you were walking off the field.” She eyed me suspiciously. “Who was that?”

  “A scout for New Orleans.” I winked.

  “Really?” Her eyes lit up. Even though we’d been in Fort Worth since I was twelve, relocating here after Hurricane Katrina, her heart would always remain loyal to her hometown.

  “Yeah.” I smiled, unable to contain my own excitement. A few scouts had approached me last season and during summer practice. This was my third year playing for PHU and that placed me closer to the pros.

  “What did he say?”

  “Yeah, what did he say?” My grandmother, Mimi, leaned in, anxious to hear.

  I straightened and took a deep breath, still a little awestruck. “That they are impressed with my results and are keeping a close eye on me.”

  “Oh, Raven, that’s wonderful!” Mom’s hands flew up in the air.

  “God bless.” Mimi covered her mouth and her eyes watered.

  Mom hugged me tightly. “I’m so proud of you, son.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” I pressed my lips to her forehead, feeling grateful for the support. Mom made every effort to be at every home game. Sun or rain, she was there as long as she didn’t have to work.

  “You’re going to make it, Raven. I just know it.” Mimi held her arms open, enveloping me in them. “See what I told you? Working hard and staying out of trouble will get you to your goal.”

  “I know,” I agreed. “I’m working hard to stay focused.”

  “Good.” She gave me a light pat on my cheek. “Because this is your last chance, boy. No more screw ups, you hear me?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I swallowed hard. Mimi had a strict, old fashion way of discipline. When the university suspended me, she ripped me a new one. She knew how to put the fear of God in anyone. I think she had to learn to be tough. Raising three girls on her own after my granddad died was no easy task, but she did it. Just like my mom.

  “Tomorrow I’m cooking a big breakfast before I head back to New Orleans.” She adjusted my PHU ball cap. Next to my mom, she was one of my biggest fans. Donning one of my purple and white jerseys, she was proud to support me. “So you better come to the house.”