Telegraph Ave

Chapter 30: Focus

=35 minutes later=

Practice was officially over... I say to myself, resting in the cubby of my locker. Sweat continues to trickle down my face,  falling to the floor as I breathe in exhaustion. I'm worn out, but I did exactly what I came here to do and that was to give it my all. My calves are numb, and my hips have withered in the sacrifice of my core. With every step I take my legs quiver and I get off balance. However, being sore is a good sign. Even though I have to deal with the fact that my body is now bitter, I'm happy with the understanding of what works. I'm happy my coaches know what they're doing. I just have to soak in some epsom salt when I get home, but definitely need a hot shower before leaving.

"Yo, X!" I hear Markus's voice. Lifting my head I watched him stroll through the entrance shirtless, with a golden chain dangling from his neck. "Damn nigga, you good?"

Nope...

"Yeah, I'm just tired."

He nods his head with concern written over his face."Shid you look more than tired, looks like somebody poured a bucket of water on you."

I shrugged my shoulders. "I sweat like my grandfather, this isn't the first time I heard that. But wassup?"

He raised his right hand, clenching a paper booklet. "We got a new playbook." He explained, walking in my direction to approach his locker. "Coach asked me to make sure you stop by his office to get one. We're going to need to know the plays before the end of summer. Oh by the way... They said you'd fit the mold of what they're trying to do."

"That's cool and all, but I don't want anything just given to me."

"X, you're earning this shit." He sits to my side. "Dawg, you put on a good show out on the field today. Do you think if you did terrible, that they would still consider taking you?"

I exhaled, easing myself back down to ten. "Im just not use to it bro."

"I know, you've told me your stories back in Phoenix. But trust me, you're better than you think you are." He clenches my shoulder. "If you can just transfer that skill and hard work over in pads, then you're good my boy." Rising back to his feet, he placed the booklet in his bag. "Besides... They don't know shit about you, except that you're new... With a fine ass mom."

"Shut up Markus." I laugh.

"Aye, nigga I'm just saying. But on the real though, favoritism doesn't exist around here. This is Oakland."

Favoritism was a huge issue I had to deal with in Phoenix, which is why I'm constantly on alert. I couldn't play in my position until they eventually gave me a chance and put me in the third string. That was alright with me. I was ready to work my way up since it was the position that first drew me into football. They, on the other hand, wanted to do things their way with the individuals they selected, so it was no longer in my hands.

"You ain't nothing but right dawg." Throwing the towel over my shoulders, I grunt in the motion of standing up. "But... I can't perform if I don't know the plays, so Ima hit the office now."

"Bet, I'ma go hit the showers and afterwards go watch Tiffany practice."

That's right... Volleyball practice... I speculated, remembering they train today as well. I'm certain Stacy would like for me to give her an audience.