Signing Day Page 3

  I’m suddenly nervous—why do we need to change? I thought we were just going to watch. I remember a rule about not playing with the team on official visits. My mind is racing.

  Mr. Henry leads us outside and down to the field. He shows us to an empty locker room where we can change.

  “The team just has a captain’s practice today,” Mr. Henry explains. “So there won’t technically be any involvement from the coaches. Just think of it as a bunch of friends messing around. Get dressed—full pads—and meet me outside.” And with that, Mr. Henry leaves the locker room.

  This doesn’t feel right to me.

  “Do you think we’ll get a chance to throw the ball around out there?” Calvin asks as we get dressed. He looks bright and alert.

  “I don’t know,” I say. “But aren’t we, uh—” I try to think of a way to say this without making it sound like an accusation. “Aren’t we technically not supposed to be playing with the team?”

  “It’s not an official practice,” Calvin replies. “You heard what Mr. Henry said. It’s just a captain’s practice. They’re just getting loose. It’s no big deal.”

  When we meet Mr. Henry outside the locker room, he hands us each an official UCC helmet. “See if they fit,” he says.

  We put them on and look at each other. The UCC logo is painted in crimson and gold on the sides.

  “They look good on you,” Mr. Henry says, and then we follow him out on the field.

  “Big game tomorrow,” he tells us. “Everyone’s a little nervous. I’m not sure if they’ll let you take the field, but if any of the guys wave you over, get out there, listen to what they say, and do something to impress them.”

  Now I’m really nervous. So much for just a bunch of friends messing around, I think.

  We watch the team practice. They move through some plays. After a few minutes, the players break into different groups and scatter to the four corners of the field. One of the captains signals Calvin to head onto the field, and they include him in a passing drill.

  I watch as Calvin gets in a line behind three other players. He’s as tall as the guys on the team, but he looks skinny. When it’s his turn, he runs and catches a pass. It’s a beautiful catch. They have him run the drill five more times. Each time he catches the ball. Then they send him off the field.

  “Velcro hands,” I say with a grin when he’s back standing next to me. “You looked good out there.”

  “Thanks,” he says as he takes a sip of water. “I pretended that I was just playing with the Warriors back home.”

  I wait for someone to call me out on the field. I wait and wait, but no one says anything. And then the guys all huddle up and head to the locker room.

  “Wait here,” Mr. Henry says to me as he runs after one of the captains who was helping lead the practice.

  A part of me hopes that no one asks me to do anything. I still feel a little uncomfortable with this whole thing. But another part of me wants to go out on that field and run and prove that I belong here.

  The player Mr. Henry’s talking to nods, disappears for a minute, and comes back with five players. The players look a little annoyed at being kept after practice.

  “This is Iggy Jones,” Mr. Henry introduces me to everyone.

  “We’re going to see what he can do,” the captain says. “It’s going to be him against the three of us.” He points to two big guys and himself. “And you”—he points to three other guys—“are going to be his offensive line. He’s going to run the ball. Defense is going to try and stop him with a two-hand touch.” He looks at the players. “No tackling the prospect. Got it?”

  They all nod, except one guy who just gives a soft laugh.

  The captain looks at me. “I don’t trust them not to tackle you, so run fast.”

  We line up on the field. Three guys on defense. Three guys in front of me on offense.

  I put my chin down and stare straight ahead.

  The ball is tossed to me.

  This is it, I think.

  The three offensive linemen cover me for a few seconds, and I run behind the biggest one as he blocks, but he doesn’t seem to be trying too hard. One of the guys playing defense breaks through. I cut right, get around him and move down the field. Another defender chases after me. I can feel him just behind, so I run faster, pumping my legs and arms hard. I can hear my heart beating in my head. Just before I get to the end zone, I feel two hands on my back, and then a shove. I fly forward and somersault across the ground. When I look up, I see three players staring down at me.

  “You’re fast,” one of the players laughs as he reaches his hand down to me and helps me up.

  “Almost made it,” I say with a smile.

  “Almost doesn’t get you points up on the board,” the captain says with a shake of his head. Then he looks up at the stands. It isn’t until then that I realize Coach Washington is standing in the bleachers with a couple of his assistant coaches.

  Calvin walks over and hands me a bottle of water.

  “You looked good out there,” he says. “Fast.”

  “Until the somersault at the end,” I say, trying not to make eye contact with the coaches.

  “You!” a voice booms. We look up. Coach Washington is pointing over at us. “On the field. Now.” I’m not sure who he’s talking to.

  “Mr. Jones,” he points to me.

  Another player grabs me and takes me out on the field. I realize it’s the starting quarterback.

  “Throw the ball,” Coach Washington orders me. Then he points at Calvin. “You, get out there and catch the ball.”

  Calvin jogs out on the field too.

  For a good fifteen minutes, I throw the ball to Calvin. He catches it every time.

  “Thank you,” Coach Washington says, still standing in the bleachers. Then he turns around and walks away.

  I look over at the quarterback, who didn’t do anything but stand there the whole time.

  “What was that about?” I ask as Calvin jogs over.

  “He’s been searching for a new quarterback,” he says. “I graduate this spring.”

  I blink. “I’m not a quarterback.”

  “Coach Washington can make you into anything he wants you to be.” The guy heads back to the locker room.

  “I’ve always thought you should be playing quarterback,” Calvin says to me. “Imagine you and me out there. You throwing. Me catching. We’d be invincible.”

  But I’m not so sure.

  Chapter 11

  We pass the UCC locker room as we head back to change. I can hear the guys goofing around. Singing. Shouting. Getting psyched for the big game against the Bears tomorrow.

  Calvin and I head into the locker room down the hall. It’s just the two of us in there.

  “Well,” Calvin says, sounding optimistic. “We made it on the field.”

  “We did,” I say.

  I don’t feel as sure as Calvin sounds like he is. It makes me nervous that the coaches had really been watching the whole time. Like we were doing something wrong.

  “Now we just have to stand out on Sunday. Show them that we’re serious.”

  Mr. Henry is waiting for us outside the locker room.

  “You both looked good out there,” he says. “But I’m going to be honest with you, Coach Washington has his eyes on two other recruits. I think you made an impression, but you’re going to have to shine on Sunday. Prove that you have what it takes. You aren’t there yet.”

  “I got taken down,” I say.

  “Yes, you did,” Mr. Henry says. “But that guy is the fastest running back in the league. Legs, they call him.”

  “What year is he?” I ask

  “A freshman,” Mr. Henry replies casually.

  I nod at this. I don’t know how much playing time I’d get if I’m up against a guy named Legs.

  Mr. Henry seems to know what I’m thinking. “You were fast,” he says to me, “but not fast enough.”

  I feel as if there is a s
tone in my throat. It’s making it very hard to swallow.

  “But don’t worry,” Mr. Henry continues. “We all like how you throw. The problem with guys who’ve played quarterback all through high school is they’ve already developed bad habits and stubbornly try to keep them. But you’ve got great accuracy and can learn from the best. You and Calvin out there together make a good team.”

  But I’m a running back, I think. That’s what I love.

  Chapter 12

  Kasey meats us outside the athletic building and walks us to a nearby dorm where she introduces us to the guys we’ll be staying with.

  “This is Shawntrell,” she says. I recognize Shawntrell as one of the guys out on the field with me. At least he isn’t Legs, I think. But then . . . “And this is Oscar,” she says. “But everyone calls him Legs.”

  I look at him, but he doesn’t seem to see me standing there. He looks past me. I turn around to see what he’s looking at, but there’s nothing behind me. He just doesn’t want to acknowledge that I’m there.

  Kasey hands us each a plastic card. “These will get you into the cafeteria. Each card has $200 on it. That should be enough to keep you fed this weekend, but with football players, I’m never sure.”

  “It’s good,” I say. “Thanks!”

  “After you eat,” Kasey continues, “I’ll meet you both again right here, and we’ll walk around campus. Then I’m going to take you to a class or two so you can see what academic life is like here.”

  We both thank her again.

  “Enjoy!” She smiles. “I’ll meet you back here in forty-five minutes.”

  We head upstairs to the dorm rooms we’ll be sharing with Shawntrell and Legs.

  “Let me stay with Shawntrell,” I whisper to Calvin. “I’m pretty sure Legs would like to smother me in my sleep. I’d be his competition if I went here next year.”

  Calvin nods at this. “Weird that they put you two together.”

  “It is,” I agree.

  I put my stuff in Shawntrell’s room. There’s an extra cot set up there for me. Calvin is just across the hall in Legs’ room. The entire football team is housed in this building. The coach doesn’t let his players live off campus. He keeps them all together so they can help each other out.

  “Let’s get our second breakfast,” Shawntrell says.

  “Second?” I say.

  “We eat before practice and after,” Shawntrell says. “Trying to put on some weight.” He looks at Calvin. “You, kid, need like four breakfasts.”

  We follow Legs and Shawntrell across a courtyard.

  “So, you’re from Hawaii,” Legs says, finally speaking to us. “Why would you ever leave?”

  “A chance to play here,” Calvin says. “Where are you from?”

  “Texas,” he answers.

  “Chicago,” Shawntrell adds.

  We keep talking about UCC and classes as we make our way through the cafeteria, and Legs seems to be warming up to me.

  But then he gives Shawntrell a nod and joins some other players a few tables over.

  “Don’t take it personally,” Shawntrell says to me. “Coach has been riding him hard. I think he made sure you two were paired up to light a little fire under him. Legs has got natural talent, but he needs to work harder.”

  I don’t like that I’m here just to threaten another player. It doesn’t feel good.

  Some other freshman players join us, and they all start talking about Saturday’s game. Shawntrell is worried about beating Branford. UCC isn’t as strong as they were the year before. They lost some of their top players. I don’t mention that my dad went to Branford.

  “How much playing time do you get?” I ask.

  “None,” Shawntrell says. “But Legs, over there, he’s been sent out quite a bit. Hopefully next year I’ll get out on the field. You have to work hard, prove yourself, and fight for a spot on the field your sophomore year. But you never know.”

  We clear our trays and head back to the dorm.

  Legs walks past us without saying a word. I watch him move up ahead. His strides are long and confident. His head is held high.

  I need to prove that I’m the fastest guy out there on Sunday, I think. Not second fastest. Not third fastest. The fastest. Coach Washington is looking for speed.

  Chapter 13

  I want to head back to a field and work on my sprinting, but there’s no time. Kasey is waiting to take us to some classes and give us a tour of the campus. We spend the day in a whirlwind of activity.

  Just before dinner we head back to Mr. Henry’s office, and he introduces us to a bunch of staff. I’m exhausted, but I pretend to be wide awake, alert, interested in everything everyone has to say. I want to make a good impression. This is my shot, and I don’t want to screw it up. After a lot of hand shaking and too many names for me to ever remember, we’re swept out of the room and Kasey picks us up again.

  When we finally get back to the dorms, there isn’t time to relax. After an early dinner, we walk with the entire team to the athletic building. Coach Washington is waiting outside. He leads the team to a glass case where he takes out a large golden bell.

  My dad once told me about how UCC beat his team the first year he played at Branford and how they took back the Golden State Bell. He was determined to beat the UCC Titans the next year and get the Golden State Bell back, but Branford lost again. It took his team three years to finally win it back.

  Coach Washington takes the bell off the stand and rings it five times.

  “The Golden State Bell has been ours for five years!” Coach says with pride. “Tomorrow we play to keep it. So what are we going to do tomorrow?”

  “Beat the Bears!” the team shouts.

  He rings the bell one more time.

  There’s so much excitement in the air. A current of energy. But I don’t feel as if I’m a part of it. I’m not heading out on the field. I’ll be watching from the stands—where I know I’ll quietly cheer for my father’s team because I remember so many Saturdays watching the Branford Bears play football on TV.

  Chapter 14

  We head back to the dorm. Lights out for the team is at ten, but the rest of campus is wide awake. There is yelling and singing. At one point I even hear what sounds like a marching band coming down the street, but I’m so tired, I fall asleep to the beat of a drum and the sound of a tuba playing just outside the window.

  The next morning we wake up early and have breakfast with the team, but then they go off to get ready for the game. Kasey meets us back at the dorms and hands us UCC T-shirts and hats, then gives us some time alone.

  We’re supposed to meet Mr. Henry outside the stadium, but not until noon. So Calvin and I head out to a patch of lawn between dorm buildings. We stretch and sprint, then run through some drills. It feels good to be outside running around.

  After we’re done, we both lie on the grass and look up at the blue California sky above us.

  “I want this,” Calvin says. “More than anything, I want to go here. I want to be a part of this team.”

  We lay there silently, and I think about what I pictured for myself—for college and my future. I wonder if my picture is the same as Calvin’s.

  ***

  The campus is filled with people dressed in blue and silver and red and gold. Music is playing. Grills are smoking. The energy of game day distracts me from all my doubts.

  We walk around and take in all the activity until we meet up with Mr. Henry at noon. He leads us into the stadium and down to our seats. We’re right behind the UCC bench. When the guys come out on the field, we’re so close that Shawntrell gives us a high-five. He’s suited up, but not expected to play.

  The band plays. The crowd cheers. The Titans and the Bears have an intense game. At halftime, the score is tied 21–21, but during the second half, the Bears march down the field and score two touchdowns. By the fourth quarter the score is 35–21, and to add insult to injury, the Branford Bears end up getting another touchdown with jus
t seconds left in the game.

  I’m happy the Bears won, but there’s no one to celebrate it with.

  “Don’t you dare smile,” Calvin warns me. “Look disappointed.”

  So I just pull my new UCC cap lower on my head to shade my face.

  As we head out of the stadium, Calvin makes a good point. “I wonder if the coaches will be in a bad mood tomorrow,” he says. “It would’ve been better for us if the Titans had won.”

  “Good point,” I say as we walk past Branford fans celebrating with each other.

  We know our roommates won’t be in a great mood, so Calvin and I decide to give them some space. We wander around campus and the surrounding neighborhood for the rest of the evening, not heading back to the dorms until ten. Shawntrell is already sleeping when I get back, and I know I should get some sleep too, but I can’t stop thinking about all I have to do the next day.

  Chapter 15

  Sunday morning, Calvin and I are both up at 6:00 a.m. We grab our gear, get some breakfast, and head outside to wait for the city bus that will take us to the last-chance camp. The morning air is damp and cool.

  Calvin seems energized. He looks at me and says, “Let’s do this. You and me. Let’s dominate today!”

  We get on the bus, and I feel like I might be more awake than I have ever been in my entire life. This morning I have a chance to prove that I’ve got what it takes to play college football, and I’m determined to make the most of it.

  When we get to the camp, we see groups of coaches and assistant coaches standing around on the field. I can’t tell who is from where because we’re so far away.

  We’re taken to the locker room where there are at least forty other guys scrambling for a place to change, and I know there are even more guys in the locker room next door.

  Calvin glances around and starts to look nervous. “There are a lot of guys trying out,” he says.

  “A lot more than I thought,” I agree.

  I unzip my bag and change into my gear. As I walk to a fountain to fill up my water bottle, I hear someone say that a coach from Branford is here. I can’t help but think of my dad. I imagine him doing everything he could to introduce me to the Branford coaches and staff. I know he would’ve wanted me to play for them, but no one there knows me, and my dad isn’t around to make any phone calls for me.