12. Bailey
12
Bailey
L achlan seemed reluctant to let go of my hand as we got out of the truck.
“Hey, man.” Nolan walked up to us, his helmet tucked under his arm. Lachlan gave him a nod and bumped his fist with Nolan’s. “We good?” Nolan asked in a hushed tone. I pretended I hadn’t heard him and moved to get my gear out of the back of the truck.
“Yeah, thanks for that.” Lachlan’s tone was also low.
“Why’d you skip out?”
“Just, I’ll let you know later, ’kay?”
“If you need help again, text me.”
I turned back to them as I pulled the massive duffel bag over my shoulder. Lachlan and Nolan slapped hands and bumped shoulders. I paused and looked around, knowing I was missing something. “Damn it, forgot my water bottle this morning.”
“I have an extra one,” Nolan said, pulling a red bottle out of his bag. “I haven’t used it.”
“Thanks.” I took it from him, and we walked together toward the school, Lachlan and Nolan on either side of me. “Ugh, it’s so cold out.”
Nolan wrapped his arm around my shoulders, moving his hand, as if to warm me up. I probably shouldn’t have, but I leaned into him. His leather jacket wasn’t the softest, but I could feel the warmth coming off him. “It’s only going to get colder. Last year, it was snowing during our playoffs. But you’ll warm up after the first few tackles.”
“Now that, I’m looking forward to. Think we will do some tackles today?”
Lachlan laughed. “Out for blood, are you?”
“Maybe.” I grinned. I had to admit, I was most excited to learn how to tackle. It both scared the shit out of me and pumped me up, especially the chase before the tackle. How far could I get before they would come for me?
I followed the guys down to the gym locker rooms, where Coach stood in the hall, talking to another player. “Bailey.” As he looked at me, Nolan dropped his arm. “Do you have a specific number you want?”
“Number?” I asked.
“Your jersey,” Nolan clarified.
Oh. “No—”
“Twenty-three,” Lachlan said.
Coach looked down at his papers. “We have that. Wait here a minute.” He walked back into his office.
“Twenty-three?” I asked Lachlan.
He shrugged. “It was your number in tykes.”
“You remember that?”
“We have a picture of our team on the wall in the store. All the teams we sponsored are up there.” Huh, cool.
Coach returned a moment later with a silver helmet and stack of clothes. “Your pants. If they don’t fit, let me know. There’s your jersey, and let me check the fit of the helmet.” I tugged the helmet on. The fit was snug but not tight. “Looks good.” Coach tapped it a couple times. “See you out there.” He handed me the rest of the stuff.
“Is she offense or D?” Nolan asked.
“Offense,” Coach said.
Nolan nodded and turned away with us, walking down the hall. “You’re going to wear your silver jersey during practice. Just bring your gear down because we warm up without it…most times.”
“Okay.”
I went to the girls' change room and took a lock from my bag, claiming one of the lockers in there for my gear before heading outside to the field.
A lot of players were already there, stretching and talking. I set my bag down in the line of others. Despite wearing sweatpants and a hoodie, I was still frozen, but I knew, once I warmed up, I would be fine. Most of the guys wore shorts and a T-shirt. I spotted Chase over by the bleachers, talking with Hadley and her friends. A few parents were already there, ready to watch the practice.
Coach came walking down not long after with two other adults. He waved me over. “Bailey, this is Coach Jamieson.” He pointed to the middle-aged fit guy wearing a black cap with the silver panther, our school's mascot, covering his blond hair. I shook his hand. “And Coach Tates.” Tates was younger than the other coach. He had large shoulders and arms but a small waist, his arm muscles so large, they pulled his shirt tight. He had a black, neatly trimmed beard. He also wore the same school ball cap. I shook his hand. “They are our defense coaches, but you will still be working with them. Today, they’ll go through safe tackle techniques with you and two other players who just joined. Coach Bryer will be here soon. He and I work more with offense, so most of our drills will involve you. Once the whole team gets here, I’m going to go over our schedule with everyone.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
“Have you had a chance to go over the playbook?” Coach asked.
Pretty sure the crunch study session I had this morning ingrained a good five plays into my head. “Yeah, I’m getting through it.”
“Keep it with you, and any chance you get, memorize those plays. Don’t let anyone else see the book, all right? Keep it close.”
I nodded to him, and he and the other coaches moved away to talk. I noticed others sitting down and putting their cleats on, so I did the same. I was just finishing tying the laces when Nolan and Lachlan dropped down on either side of me. “I’m telling you, the mere existence of water vapor on the surface proves there are extraterrestrials,” Nolan was saying.
“Could support life. Could . That doesn’t mean there is life,” Lachlan said, winking at me.
Coach interrupted their debate by calling the team together. Once he was through introducing me and the other new players to the team and what the practice and game schedule was like, he started in on a lecture about professionalism and working together.
“Remember,” Coach continued, “our goal isn’t to obtain a certain position, right, men? Our goal is to play as a unit, as a team. Positions are given to best fit, not longest played. Understood?”
A few “yes, sirs” sounded. I knew joining was a big commitment, and somewhat intimidating, but it had just dawned on me how much Dad would have to take on without me to help bring the crops in, right during harvest season too. I’d have to work more on the farm in the evenings to make up for it.
“During practice, you are expected to be ready. Don’t gear up until we tell you to, but I do want you all to warm up on your own and do your run. Cleats on the field are a must.” Coach paused. “Go.”
To my surprise, Nolan jumped up. “Let’s go, Panthers,” he commanded and began jogging. I quickly pulled my hoodie off and tossed it down.
Lachlan sighed. “I don’t want to run today,” he grumbled but got up all the same.
Everyone got into formation to do the exact same run they had Tuesday morning. Nolan was in front, jogging, and every time he yelled out, the person from the back had to run all the way to the front. Stupid me was in the back of the line already, Lachlan in front of me.
Off Nolan ran, leading everyone. The signal came, and I realized that, no matter how difficult this would be, no matter how much my legs were about to burn, I had to go. I had to show them I could keep up.
I sprinted forward. I focused on what was in front of me and gave it my all, overtaking the line and sweeping in front of Nolan. I saw the smile on his face as I passed him, so I stuck my tongue out at him.
I did it.
As we made our jog around the field, and more and more players sprinted to the front, I relaxed and was able to focus on the exercise. I was worried and almost expecting comments and sneers about me being a girl. How I wouldn’t be able to keep up. However, as we finished our jog and moved right into stretches, which morphed into teams doing more warm-ups, I found it was the opposite. These guys might act like fools in class, in school, but out on the field, they were focused. Yes, they joked and taunted one another, but no one doubted my abilities. I was just another player. Lachlan was right—everything else was left off the field. We were a team.
The coaches divided us into defense and offense. As Nolan and Ethan were pulled off to the side with Coach, I winced. To say those two didn’t get along would be putting it mildly. They glared at each other through most of history class, their attempts to hide their dislike unsuccessful. Yesterday, Ethan had smacked into Nolan in the hallway, and Nolan was more than ready to give it back. I was pretty sure, if given the chance, they would brawl, so I’d been trying to find ways to prevent it. I didn’t want Nolan to get hurt, though something told me he could hold his own. But that meant Ethan might end up hurt. There just was no winning.
“What are they doing?” I asked Lachlan, pointing to Nolan and Ethan.
Lachlan frowned. “Ethan is our center, which means he snaps the ball to Nolan. The last few scrimmages, they’ve been fumbling it…a lot.”
“That’s not good, right? A fumble means the ball is still in play, and the other team can steal it.”
“Right, been studying?” he asked with a smile.
“Just refreshers.” I shrugged, trying to downplay how much I’d been Googling to prepare myself.
“Ethan has to trust Nolan. See, Ethan has a two hundred, two fifty, pound guy standing right in front of him, waiting for that ball to move. The moment it’s snapped, Nolan has to be there to get it, then Ethan has to snap up and plow down the dude in front of him. If Ethan isn’t fast enough, the guy will take him down first and then go for our quarterback or whoever has the ball. Also, Nolan has to trust Ethan. He has to realize Ethan knows what he’s doing and is able to do his job. That Ethan won’t let the defensive center through. If Nolan is afraid of getting creamed because he thinks Ethan can’t stop the player, then he won’t be fast enough to receive the ball. They need to work together.”
“Would Ethan let a guy through? Just to hurt Nolan?” I bit my lip, watching the two get into position and practice the “snap.”
“Nope. Remember what I said yesterday? They might have disagreements, but Ethan would never risk the game or his reputation. On the field, only the game matters. Not many centers get scholarships, but it does happen. It probably will for him, he’s a really good player.”
“Why does Ethan hate Nolan so much?”
Lachlan looked away as Coach Bryer started walking to our group. “Since when does Ethan need a reason to hate someone?”
“Maybe we should talk to him,” I whispered.
Lachlan raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“Maybe Ethan is waiting for someone to say hi, like you were waiting for me. Maybe that’s our problem. We should stop waiting and just be there.”
Something flashed across Lachlan’s face, be it realization or recognition or whatever. I could see his mind shifting gears, that big brain of his pondering, thinking.
For the next what felt like a lifetime, we worked on agility. Coach Bryer called it muscle memory; I called it torture. My limbs already ached from yesterday, so I knew, by the end of the day, they would be jelly.
Once the coach called for a water break, I found myself walking next to Nolan. “How’d working on the snap go?”
“Fine. Still liking football?”
“Less and less the more work I realize there is,” I groaned.
“Hey, Bailey, you’re pretty good on your feet,” Sam said. I didn’t know everyone’s position on the team yet, but I knew he was on offense too.
I gave him a friendly smile. “Thanks.” Nolan stepped up closer to me, his arm brushing mine.
“Two-minute drink and breather,” Coach called out. “We are working on tackles next. Gear on and mouth guards in, or you won’t be on the field.”
I was absolutely exhausted, ready to soak in a hot tub and beg my muscles to forgive me, but once Coach said we would tackle, renewed adrenaline coursed through me. The excitement was like a buzz that made me almost want to dance. I shifted from one foot to the other and nearly ground my teeth.
Nolan laughed. “Oh, dear god, someone save her.”
“What’s going on?” Lachlan asked, grinning as he watched me dance my gear on.
“She looks ready to take on all the linemen,” Nolan said.
Lachlan’s grin disappeared. “We better warn them.”
“Yeah, they will pulverize her,” Nolan agreed.
“No, we should warn them to watch out. Bailey will knock them out.” Lachlan laughed.
“Tease all you want, but I have some pent-up aggression I think I need to get out.” That brought on a round of laughter from them. I grabbed my silver jersey, but when I tried pulling the jersey over the pads, it got stuck.
“Let me help,” Ethan’s deep, gravelly voice said. I froze in place as he tugged on the shirt.
“Thanks.”
“Keep your eyes up when you move, not down at your feet.” He said nothing more as he moved far away from me.
Lachlan met my stare briefly, and I widened my eyes as if to say, see? We should say something. He shrugged. I wasn’t sure if he got my message, but the coach blew his whistle, so there wasn’t time to ask.
Coach Jamieson came running up to me. He was a big guy, and when he spoke, his voice was deep and vibrating. “Bailey, right? You and the other new players are coming with me to practice our tackles.”
I nodded and followed Coach Jay—I’d noticed most of the players called him that. He brought the other two newbies out and went over forms of safe tackling, how to tuck in to prevent head and neck injuries. I’d thought tackles were just running at one another, but that wasn’t the case. Hit too high, and they just flick you off them; aim too low, and they had a higher chance of escaping the tackle. The best aim was right for their hips and thighs. Eyes to the thighs , Coach Jay kept saying. He talked about foot position and shoulder position and body weight shifting, and to be honest, I was shocked how much detail actually went into tackles.
After Coach Jay got us comfortable with a few tackles and stances, he had us join another group. We were split into two different lines; the first person in line A held the ball, and the first person in line B was the one tackling. There were orange cones set up, and basically, we had to prevent the player with the ball from getting through to our set of cones. Simple enough.
I was able to watch a few tackles before it was my turn. I didn’t recognize the player I was up against, but I pushed off, got my feet in the position Coach Jay had taught, had my hands ready, and…damn. He passed me before I could even get close. “Pick up your speed, Bailey. Start your tackle sooner before he gains ground,” Coach Jay instructed.
I nodded and went to the other line, so now, I was a runner. Once it was my turn, I took Coach’s advice and ran immediately and tried to gain ground before the tackle could come. Sam was fast, though. He wrapped his arms around me and…hugged me? I stood there, not sure what to do.
“Sam, what the hell kind of tackle is that?” Coach Jay didn’t have to yell; his voice was loud enough on its own. “Bailey, if anyone goes at you like that, you push through and keep running. You can easily get passed, jump over the tackle, push through, whatever you gotta do to get that ball past this guy. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.” I passed the ball back to the next person behind me and got in line on the other side.
This time, I was ready to take them down. Whatever it took, I wasn’t going to let the player through. As soon as the whistle blew and the runner took a step forward, I ran up, put my shoulder to his thigh, wrapped my arms around his legs and took him down.
Coach Jay whooped and clapped. “Nicely done, nicely done!” I stood up and held my hand out, helping the player to his feet before going to the other line. I was beaming, of course. Where was Nolan? I hoped he saw that.
Once it was my turn to run again, I prepared myself to push through the tackle, no matter what. The guy against me was nearly the size of Ethan, but I didn’t let that get to my head. The whistle blew and I ran. He stood in front of me, pushing me lightly at the shoulders but definitely not a full tackle. I dodged him easily and ran past.
“Liam!” Coach Jay boomed. “I know that is not the way we taught you to tackle. Run it again,” he demanded. As I went back to the same line I was in, standing in front to repeat my run, I saw Jay signal to Coach, who walked over to us. “Do it right this time.” Coach Jay blew his whistle, and I ran. This time, Liam acted like he was going to tackle me, but it looked like I outran him. I didn’t, though; he’d pulled his tackle.
I felt deflated. I’d been looking forward to this. All practice, I’d been excited that the guys were treating me like an equal…except, they weren’t. It wasn’t like they were going easy on me because I was new, either. I watched the other new players, and they made it like a game to tackle them as hard as they could.
Coach blew his whistle. “Panthers,” Coach called. Oh, he was mad. All the players on the team came running in. “Take a knee.” Everyone went down on one knee, so I followed and did the same. “She is not made of glass.” Coach pointed directly at me. Blood pumped to my cheeks as they colored with embarrassment. “You are doing her and this team a disservice when you pull back on your tackles.” He looked around at the team, and a few of the guys seemed to be avoiding his gaze. “Bailey, line up with Ethan.”
I bit my lip and stood up, dropping the ball on the ground where I stood. It’s just about the game, focus on the game , I chanted to myself, building courage. I had to show them. Had to show the team I could handle this. I got into position, only…Ethan didn’t move.
“Ethan, step up,” Coach demanded.
Ethan shook his head. “No.”
Coach displayed a moment of surprise before he recovered.
“I got it.” Chase jogged forward and lined up with me. Briefly, my eyes shifted to the bleachers. Hadley was standing, cupping her hand over her eyes as she watched us. I shook my head. It’s just a game, just practice. I’m just another player to him, and he’s just another player to me.
Even still, I felt the jitters in my stomach as his grey, stormy eyes met mine. I tried to give him a smile, almost like asking for a truce. Chase gave me a partial smile, and ever so slightly, I relaxed. It was just a game, and I was just another player. I pushed all the drama of today aside and focused on the exercise at hand.
Coach nodded. “Bailey is a member of this team. She signed up for football. Not treating her as an equal member of this team will get her hurt. Will hurt the whole team.”
Coach blew his whistle, and Chase and I surged forward. Of course, Chase knocked me flat on my back, and as the air left my lungs, a jolt vibrated through my body. I was grateful he’d done it. It had to happen; they had to see I could take it. I had to show myself I could take it. The wind was knocked out of me, as it felt like Chase had given it his all, but I was laughing, happy he did a full tackle. I took Chase’s outstretched hand as he helped me to my feet.
“The other team will not be pulling back. If anything, they will think she’s the weak link and push harder. Bailey needs to be prepared for this, and she can’t do that if you treat her differently than any other team member. Got it?” He looked around at the guys. Some were nodding, others just staring. “Again.” I lined up with Chase. This time, I winked at him, and his eyes went wide for a second just as Coach blew his whistle. I surged forward with everything I had in me, and it was Chase who ended up flat on his ass.
I held my hand out to Chase to help him up, and even with the mouth guard in, I could see his grin, the storms within his eyes calming. Chase took my hand as I pulled him up.
“Panthers, we need to focus on the practice. I want you to hit, catch, throw, as if this is the championship game, all right?” Coach yelled. “We have to work at every practice as if it is the most important game, so when we get on the field for our game, we already practiced to win, got it?”
“Yes, Coach,” everyone said in unison.
“Tackles, blocks, they are the core. We need to work on our plays, but if we don’t make good tackles, if we don’t make the blocks, guess what we can’t do, Nolan?”
“We can’t make any plays,” Nolan answered.
“Exactly. Our plays are nothing if we don’t have anyone making proper blocks. Got it?”
“Yes, Coach,” everyone said in unison again, and this time, I joined them.
“All right, that’s it for today. Go get some breakfast.”
I was pulling my shoulder gear off, half watching Ethan get chewed out by the coach. Ethan was emotionless as he took the tongue lashing. Coach even pointed at him and struck his chest pads a few times.
Parents didn’t see; they were all too occupied talking to their kids or walking to the parking lot. Ethan was alone—no one was here for him.