Page 33 of Sidelining the Safety

AUSTIN TROOPERS VS OKLAHOMA COPPERHEADS

Lee thought he might throw up. He paced the bathroom, rubbing his stomach, and swallowing hard. Why now? He’d made it through all four preseason games with only the jitters. He’d felt “wired,” antsy… Nothing like this.

“Matty? Fuck, man, you okay?” Yowie asked, his eyes narrowed as he took Lee in. “You gonna hurl?”

“Maybe.” Lee sucked in a deep breath and blew it out long. “I’m all… I can’t even describe it.”

Yowie snorted. “Yeah. Ha. I remember that feeling. It’s your first ride. Ignore the crowds and play your game. You’ll do fine.”

“I hope so.”

“I know so. Come on. Cap’s calling for everybody. You ain’t the only rookie looking peaked.” Yowie laughed. “Jakes already tossed his cookies.”

“Ugh.” Lee groaned. “Don’t tell me that.” He pushed Yowie ahead of him as they returned to the main locker room. He peered around until he spotted a pale-faced version of his fellow defensemen. Lee clapped Jacobs on the shoulder. “Right there with you, Jakes.” He sat beside him, pressing their arms together, helping to prop Jacobs up.

Coach Oliveira levered himself off the wall and strode to the center of the room, tucking his fingers into his back pockets. “First game of the season. First home game, and our first this year against our division rivals: the Copperheads.”

A chorus of boos spread across the players. Lee joined in, the camaraderie and anticipation overriding his nervousness.

“You all performed well during preseason. The best of you are starting tonight. Mr. Vasquez, Mr. Fitz, and I believe you can win. What say you?”

“Yes!” Lee shouted right along with several others. “Hoo-rah!”

Their starting quarterback, Addison Kelly, joined Coach Oliveira, and when the veteran players stood, Lee followed, pulling Jacobs with him. “Take a knee, gentlemen.” Their starting QB turned in a slow circle, meeting each of their gazes. “Like Coach said, we had a great preseason. Let’s keep that momentum going. Hoo-rah!”

“Hoo-rah!” The team burst to their feet, bouncing around, slapping shoulders, backs, and asses, shouting encouragement to each other. They grabbed their helmets and filed out of the locker room. Team captains pushed to the front of the pack as they wound through the tunnel that would spill them onto the field.

Lee and Yowie stood on either side of Jakes, his cheeks now flushed. Considering the adrenaline rush Lee was experiencing, he figured he probably looked the same. He rocked on his heels and jumped a few times, shaking out his arms. The roar of the crowd as the Copperheads were announced flowed over him as his focus narrowed.

Game time, Lee. Eyes on the ball.

He curled and flexed his fingers, closed his eyes, and just breathed. Yowie grabbed Lee’s hand, and he, in turn, grabbed Jakes. Following the veterans, they ran out on the field, the sound an overwhelming crash that thundered in Lee’s ears. He thought he knew how loud a crowd could be when Rutgers played at the occasional larger universities, such as U. Michigan or Ohio State. Alcohol certainly made people crazy. Crazier.

Reaching the sideline, Lee scanned the family section. He spotted his mom and aunt waving like the maniacs they were, holding signs that read “The only one that MATTERS.” Laughing, he flashed them a thumbs up and a broad smile before pointing them out to Jacobs, who rolled his eyes as he finger-gunned his family sitting two rows beneath Lee’s, watching as they comically fell over dead, tongues-lolling.

The game announcer was calling for everyone’s attention for the Star-Spangled Banner sung by Austin natives, The Watchsmiths. Lee lined up on the sideline, and with his hand over his heart, sang along. As fireworks exploded at the conclusion, he closed his eyes and thanked the big guy in the sky for blessing him, and maybe could he toss a little magic dust his way.

Jakes clapped Lee’s shoulder and dragged him to the bench while the coin toss happened with the QB and the offensive and defensive line captains. They watched on the big screen, breaths held, waiting to find out which line would take the field after the kickoff. Regardless of which way the coin landed, Lee would take the field with special teams. He’d earned his spot.

He patted Jakes before he stepped back, drawing in long breaths and blowing them out in a steady steam, trying to slow his racing heart. Spotting his mom descending the stairs, he met her at the bottom, reaching up to clasp her hand.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Mom.”

“Wouldn't be anywhere else,” she replied, giving him a squeeze and a smile.

“I've been informed that my presence is required post-game, so I won’t be back until late.”

“That's fine. Auntie and I can take care of ourselves. You have fun.” She winked and laughed. “I'm sure you'll have a good time. Now get out there and give ‘em hell. Hoo-rah!”

“Hoo-rah!” Lee responded, along with half a dozen other family members of the team who were watching them.

He retreated to the sideline, joining the special teams unit. Following the commercial break, he jogged onto the field and into position. Once there, he ran in place, warming up his muscles while keeping an eye on the Copperhead’s kicker. When the kicker raised his arm, Lee settled into his stance and was off like a shot the moment the ball was launched into the air.

Yowie had to settle Lee down more than once as the game went on. As their preseason continued, Lee had seen more and more time on the field, but unless the current game became a blowout, he’d play the entire time. He knew he should rein himself in, but his excitement knew no bounds.

In the first quarter, Lee had batted one pass down, gotten one tackle, and had so thoroughly covered Kowalski, the wide receiver he was paired with, that he could see the guy’s frustration written all over his face. As a free safety, Lee’s quickness and ability to read the plays foiled the Copperheads’ quarterback again and again.

As the clock wound down toward half-time, the score tied at seven apiece, Lee was back on the field, slapping Anders’ hand as he took over after a first-down run play by the Copperheads. He could almost taste the throw coming…

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