Catching Jordan

Catching Jordan - Section 2

Ty’s bigger, obviously stronger, and, unlike me, he probably didn’t screw up in the final two minutes of a state championship game. Johnson City beat us 13–­10 because I threw an interception and they returned it for a touchdown.

What if Coach gives my position to him? I try to shake this thought from my mind—I’ve worked years for this. I’ve earned it. For the coach to give away my position, I’d have to mess up in a spectacular way. Like five interceptions followed by a fumble.

Finally, Coach Miller comes back over. “Woods, Ty—let’s talk,” he says, gesturing for us to walk away from the rest of the players. Henry glances at me as we move toward Coach.

“Ty—that’s quite an arm you’ve got there. And you’ve got highly developed instincts as well,” Coach says.

“Thanks, sir.”

“You’re a senior?”

“Yeah.”

“And you started for your team in Texas when you won the championship last year?”

“Yeah.”

Now it’s my turn to stare at the grass.

Thanks to our boosters, mostly wives of former Titans players who still call Franklin home, Hundred Oaks has the best high school football program in Tennessee. We have shitloads of money to put toward buying state-of-the-art equipment and paying first-rate staff. Coach Miller used to coach college ball, but gave it up for a slower pace of life when his wife got sick. His expertise has led several players to get full rides to college.

I bet that’s why Ty wants to play for Hundred Oaks. It’s like we’re in the same league, but he’s one step higher. Tears sting my eyes. I need to focus. I can’t cry in front of my team.

Damned estrogen.

Coach narrows his eyes. “Why would you give all that up? Your parents couldn’t stay in Texas one more year to ensure you got your choice of colleges? And why Franklin? If you had to move to Tennessee, I’m surprised your parents didn’t search for a school district lacking a star quarterback.”

The pain returns to Ty’s eyes. “I did what I had to do, sir. I just moved here with my mother and sister.” Mussing his sandy hair, Ty peeks at me. “Some things are more important than football.”

What? A Texas football player who doesn’t kneel down and pray to the Cowboys every Sunday?

Epic.

Coach nods. “I see. Well, you’re on the team, but I don’t know how much playing time I can guarantee you.”

“Thank you, sir. Being on the team is good enough for me,” Ty says with a hint of a smile. He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“Great. We’ll get you a uniform—wear your jersey on Friday for the pep rally,” Coach says. “That’s enough for today, Woods. No practice tomorrow—the team needs to rest before the game.”

“Got it, Coach.” I walk back to my team and yell, “No practice tomorrow. Don’t do anything stupid on your day off.”

I pull my helmet off and head to the girls’ locker room as quickly as I can—I need to get in and out before cheerleading practice ends or they’ll quiz me for information about their crushes, aka my teammates.

They don’t seem to understand that the guys don’t spend all their time talking about girls. Only about, I’d say, ninety percent of their time is devoted to that. And even then, it’s only about who’s hooking up with who, and who wants to hook up with who. The day I hear JJ talking about his feelings is the day I’ll run to a nuclear fallout shelter and pray for my life.