12. Omiri
Omiri
I t was early as hell and my body was dragging.
The past two months had me relaxed and it was time for me to get back on schedule so I would be game ready in the next couple of months.
My sleep schedule was all fucked up and I wasn't eating like I needed to, which was going to have to change.
I didn't know what that would look like when it came to Avi and Makari.
The two of them moved into the top spot on my list of priorities but the new contract offer on the table that I hadn't signed yet because I was in the process of switching agents meant I had to get my shit together.
Two hundred forty million for four years was enough to reevaluate my priorities.
They were guaranteeing me two hundred thirty-one million with eighty million sign on.
I was perfectly content with this being my last contract, but if that were the case, I needed to show the fuck up and show out for these next four years, which meant being on my game.
I dropped my head back, giving myself a minute to get my mind right before I headed into the training facility. I had conditioning then I would probably have to get with Coach to go over the new plays, which meant this was going to be a long ass day.
My phone vibrated from the passenger seat and I grabbed it, grinning at the text that came through. A photo of my baby smiling at the screen.
Makari: She missed you this morning.
Me: I'ma pull up later. Kiss her for me. Did her mother miss me last night?
Makari: Nope, she was too busy checking Love Lock for suitable matches to pair with once baby daddy gets tired of being exclusive.
My brows slammed together and my fingers were moving across the screen fast as hell, but I back tracked and deleted my original thought of “I wish the fuck you would” because there wasn't a chance in hell I was going to get tired of her or that damn pussy.
Not enough to risk losing it by fucking with another woman who would never measure up.
Me: I feel you. I was on that same energy last night. Send me their profiles so I can let you know if they're being legit or gaming you.
Makari: There is no way in hell I would even consider that!
I chuckled.
Me: Why, you don't trust my judgment?
Makari: I don't trust you not to threaten them to stay away from me. My options are already limited.
Limited as fuck. You only have one option…
Me: Aight, do your thing, big dawg. I'm ’bout to head into the training facility. I'll pull up later.
Makari:
I got out, grabbed my bag out the backseat, and was on my way to the entrance when Vanessa hit my line. I had a meeting with her later so I answered, knowing it would likely be quick with her just reminding me.
"Yo…"
"Our meeting is at four; don't be late."
I grinned, nodding even though she couldn't see me. "Chill, I'll be there."
"Don't tell me to chill, Omiri. You have been very irresponsible with your time management lately. You missed?—"
"Two meetings and I didn't really miss them. I rescheduled and you agreed, so again, chill."
"Be there at four or I'm dropping you as a client."
I laughed. "You're not going to drop me. I pay you too much and I'm your favorite client."
"I have three people on my waitlist right now who collectively will cover what you're paying me."
"Three, Van?"
"You're one person but stress me like you're three people, so even exchange. Four, don't be late."
She hung up on me and I grinned, powered my phone off, unzipped my bag, and dropped it inside.
I wouldn't need that for the next couple hours.
When I made it into the training facility, the weight room was already thick, which was surprising for six a.m. The rookies had their schedule but they typically didn't abide by them.
It would take some time for Coach to break them of their egos and entitlement.
I was still early enough to get my workout in before the chaos of shit talking began. I preferred to move through my rotations in silence with my earbuds in so I could focus. I dropped my bag on the bench in front of my locker and dug my tablet out.
The only access I had on here was to workouts from my trainer, meal plans from the dietitian I used during the season, and playbooks that Coach sent over. I kept the access limited so I could focus when required.
This space had become my sanctuary. If nothing else in my life made sense, being here did, at least that was the case when I could block out the politics, expectations, and bullshit attached to the amount of money they paid me to be the face of this franchise.
I pulled up the plan my trainer sent over for the day.
I had upper body, lower body, then movement and mobility.
I worked through my rotations, blasting my playlist to keep my mind clear of anything other than my form.
By the time I was finished, my body was feeling the ache in my muscles, proving I had a lot of work to do.
Once done with conditioning, I made my way to the throwing machine to work on my release point consistency and spiral rotation, doing a round of footwork before I had to meet up with Coach. I grabbed a few bottles of water and left the weight room, running into Ryland in the hallway.
"You're early as hell."
I looked him over, noticing the sluggishness all over his face and posture. His eyes were red and he was dragging. "If you would have been more responsible last night, your ass would have been here early too."
He smirked and brushed a hand over his head. "How the hell you know whether or not I was responsible last night?"
"You look like shit, that's how I know."
He nodded, grinning wider. "Coach has new formations. He send them to you?"
Ryland dug his phone out of his pocket and swiped through some notifications on his screen.
"Yeah, I got them."
"You checked them out yet?"
"Looked at them last night. More RPO variations and empty backfield shit that we won't use."
"Coach be pulling shit out his ass at the start of the season just to go back to what we always do."
I chuckled. "I'm good with whatever as long as we get another ring."
"Shit, that's the problem. These rookies are going to have to step up. You worked with McClain yet?"
I grunted at that and he arched his brow. "You not fucking with him?"
I'm gonna fuck with him alright. My damn fist in his face if he doesn't fall the hell back when it comes to Kari…
"He's straight. Needs to read the field better and work on his routes."
Ryland nodded. "With Kirk out, he's going to have to have his head in the game."
Mason Kirk was our wide receiver who tore a rotator cuff at the end of the game last season. He was the last seasoned receiver we had and now we were working with three rookies. Unfortunately, McClain was the best of the three.
"As long as their hands are up, I'll get the ball to them. I just need them to catch that shit. Make sure you're blocking. Your ass is getting slow in your old age."
"Nigga fuck you." He laughed. "My reaction times are just fine and I've been protecting you for the past four years."
"Hayes…" I glanced down the hall to find Coach Williams standing halfway between his office and the corridor. "I need to see you after you're done with conditioning."
I nodded and he stepped back into his office and Ryland pushed off the wall. "Let me hit these weights though."
"Aight." We dapped and he went one way while I went the other.
I made it to the throwing station and dropped my bag near the wall and brought one of the mobile racks with me.
I positioned myself about ten yards back and started with the basics, making sure I kept my elbow up and drove through with my hips.
Each pass spiraled with a perfect rotation so I moved back another five yards and repeated the throws.
My release point felt good and the rotation was tight so I moved on to my next set with my elbow up before I stepped into the throw, making sure to follow through across my body.
I smirked when each one launched with a perfect spiral. For the next twenty minutes I kept up the same rhythm in one spot then eventually added some footwork. I worked through twenty-five passes, keeping my release point consistent, which was pretty much muscle memory for me.
My last set was three-quarter. With my elbow just below my shoulder and my arm bent at a forty-five degree angle, I positioned my stance to throw the ball with a small tilt of my torso.
The ball cut through the air with another perfect spiral but with a lower release point.
After working through two more cycles, I started from the top and did ten back to back of each set before I wrapped up.
My arms and shoulder ached and my shirt was drenched, but the familiarity of having the ball in hand grounded me.
I wrapped up my session, hit the showers, dressed in a black and gray Sharks wind suit, and headed to see Coach so I could get this over with and head out.
I had a feeling if I was late Vanessa would hit my pockets for an inconvenience fee.
She loved making shit up when it came to me not valuing her time, but I always made sure she was generously compensated, because regardless of what she thought, I fucked with her heavy and I did value her time.
Coach was in the hallway when I rounded the corner on my way to him. He had a phone to his ear and held up one finger, asking me to give him a minute. Once he finished the call, he dropped the phone in his pocket and gave me his attention.
"Walk with me. These idiots don't understand what basic formations are. I'm about to go meet with the offense coaches," he mumbled, taking off. I fell in step with him.
"Gotta love rookies."
"No I don't." He cut his eyes at me. "How are things? You seem locked in with training."