Chapter 10
Vee
Rubbing my temples, I couldn’t ignore the thumping in my head.
If asked, I’d say that I was certain my head was about to explode.
Opening my water bottle, I took a long swig.
The playbook in front of me was akin to a foreign language.
Dad was right. Football operations was the part of our franchise I needed to understand at a higher level.
Talk to me about the ROI on television ads that showcased our mascot versus those that showed fans in the stadium or players on the field.
Ask me how long it took to change the field from artificial turf to a trade show with over three hundred exhibitions.
How many workers per hour to accomplish an end game?
I could rattle off the numbers without so much as a second thought.
Our ticket sales were a case study in football sales.
I spent an untold amount of time comparing prices throughout the NFL.
Even with that knowledge base, the words before me were maddening.
I knew the positions both offense and defense, eleven players on the field per side.
I’d watched enough games to understand what each position was supposed to accomplish, and which defensive player was responsible for what offensive player.
However, after the meeting with Fin, I did as Andrew Pratt asked and made my way into the unknown, the offices in football operation.
Our players were in various places around Maker’s Mark Football Center.
The athletic trainers were already assessing yesterday’s injuries.
The coaches met first with the entire team to discuss what they learned from films. Then the players had position meetings, talking with their specific coaches for each position.
Fin and Troy Dennison would be in the quarterback discussion.
I shook my head, thinking about Simpson. He’d been with the Coopers for three years. Correction, this would have been his third year. Now, he was gone, Griffin Graham in his place.
When I was at the University of Kentucky, I stood on the sidelines during practices and games. I listened to the play calling but never tried to understand it. The basics were ingrained. Making sense of the unknown was the assignment Coach Pratt gave me—my homework, it could be said.
It was nearly five o’clock, and I’d been studying the offensive playbook I was given and had half of a notebook filled with notes.
In two days—Wednesday morning—Pratt wanted me on the sidelines for the first practice session in preparation for next Sunday’s game.
That gave me roughly thirty-six hours to make heads or tails out of this foreign language.
The play before me read: Green Rt Slot ‘Z’ Rt. 96 Boss, On two, On two, ready break.
Thirty-six hours wouldn’t be enough.
I reached for my cell phone and suddenly realized I’d turned off the volume for the first meeting of the day and hadn’t checked it since. There were two missed calls and three text messages from Preston.
“Collie,” I said under my breath. My thoughts tried to come up with a more positive image, but in reality, collies were cute, energetic, lovable, and loyal. That wasn’t a negative assessment. Of course, they could be exhausting and maybe annoying.
The term was eerily close to accurate.
The first two text messages were nothing of importance. It was the third that seemed more urgent.
“VEE, I’VE BEEN TRYING ALL DAY TO REACH YOU. CALL ME.”
The text was sent over an hour ago.
I hit the call icon. Preston answered on the second ring.
“Fuck, Vee,” his voice roared. “Now you’re not returning my calls.”
“Whoa,” I said in my most assertive tone. “I am returning your call. I’m at work. Mondays are filled with meetings. You know that. What was so urgent that you needed to talk to me?”
He exhaled. “Meadow Farms’ top sire broke his leg. A freak accident. He stumbled into a hole in the pasture.”
I heard Preston’s concern as my nose scrunched. “I don’t know that much about horses, but that’s bad, right?”
“Yeah, it’s bad.” He huffed. “It would be nice if you tried to understand my family business. No, it’s always about yours.” He took a breath. “Think of it like Dennison breaking his leg.”
“I mean,” I said, “We wouldn’t shoot Dennison if he broke his leg. What’s going to happen to the stallion?”
“The veterinary team is assessing him, but there’s a good chance he’ll be put down.”
“It’s not like he’s racing anymore. He’s just…screwing. That doesn’t take four healthy legs.”
“You’ve got a lot to learn about stallions and thoroughbreds.”
Yeah, apparently, I had a lot to learn about a wide range of subjects. Before I could respond, he went on.
“I wanted to talk to you because I’m on my way to Meadow Farms. I’ll be gone a couple days.”
“Okay.”
“Damn it, Vee.” His voice was louder than necessary. “Are you happy I’m going to be gone?”
“No,” I answered too quickly to give the question the time it deserved. “It’s not about you, all right?”
“Of course not. It’s always about you.”
“Preston…”
“It sure as hell seems that way. You’ve been cold as ice since Saturday night.”
“My father has decided I need to be better prepared for ownership. He wants me to spend more time in football operations. The offensive coordinator gave me homework. I’m supposed to learn a hundred or more play calls by Wednesday.
So, no, Preston, I’m not happy you’re going out of town.
I sure as hell won’t rejoice in some super stud horse being injured or euthanized. I’m simply busy.”
Preston’s tone softened. “Why exactly does Reid want you to spend more time in football operations? You’re vice president of stadium operations and marketing.”
Placing my elbow on my desk, I held my head and sighed. “Dad’s right. He and Drew Pratt are pushing this. I should understand the football side of the Coopers.”
“So you’ll be around that new Griffin guy more.”
It wasn’t a question, but I answered, “Seriously, Preston. I’ll be around the entire team.
Besides, I think Dad is right; I should know more.
I hope Dad’s around for a long time, but when the time comes for me to make multimillion-dollar decisions, I should understand what they entail.
I think Royce is behind the playbook memorization.
Drew mentioned his name. Royce is a sexist asshole who wants me to give up or fail. ”
“My Vee isn’t a failure or a quitter.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“That bastard Beasley should retire.”
The first smile of our conversation curled my lips. “That would be great news.” I lifted my head. “Drive safely. I hope the stallion can be healed.”
“My dad’s upset, but the truth is we’ve got a lot of frozen sperm. Maximus can go on to sire great stallions for years.” There was a pause. “Vee, are we good?”
Fun to be around.
Charismatic.
Dependable.
A collie.
“I want us to be,” I answered honestly. “Leigh thinks I have commitment issues.” As the words came out of my mouth, I remembered telling Fin he had the same issue.
“Leigh’s wrong. I’ll call you when I know when I’m returning. Let’s go out, a date, just the two of us. After all your memorization, you can rattle off play calls, and I can try to figure them out.”
A laugh bubbled from my lips. “Yes, to a date. No, to play calls.”
“Sounds good. Vee, I love you.”
No, it wasn’t the first time he’d said it. That didn’t make it sound less confining, like my clothes were shrinking around me. “Yeah. Stay safe and call me.” I hit the disconnect button and laid the phone on my desk as my office door opened.
Jen peeked around the door jamb. “It’s after five. I’m headed out. Do you need anything before I go?”
“Do you know how to decipher offensive play calls?”
She pursed her lips. “Sorry, no.”
“It’s okay.” I stood, pushing back my chair. “I think I’ll head home too. I’d rather go through these plays in pajama pants and without a bra.”
Jen laughed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
With my tablet, Pratt’s playbook, and other essentials in my leather tote, I made my way out of the football center, adding one more person to the mad exodus.
My mind was on the play calls, trying to come up with a system to remember them when I looked up.
The large black truck parked beside my car belonged to our newest signed quarterback.
I wouldn’t have known if not for the handsome man standing at the driver’s door.