Page 6 of Arrogant Rucking Player

CHAPTER THREE

MASON

“We’re late. I’m?—”

“Sorry. It’s okay, Nyla. You don’t have to keep apologising for life getting in the road of anything. We’re not going anywhere.” I high fived Brady and smiled at his mum.

“You remembered.” She twisted her apron at her waist. “We were short staffed, and I don’t make a habit of being late.” The twisting increased.

I kept the frown off my face, fixating on hers by some miracle, but only just.

Who the hell ever hurt her to make her react that way overturning up ten minutes late to football practice just flew to the top of my shit list.

“Hey.” I rubbed my knuckles across her upper arm, the brief contact freezing her in place. But her twisting stopped and her hands relaxed, if only for a second. “Why don’t you head up into the stands for a bit? It’s shadier there and the afternoon will get pretty hot if you’re staying.”

Nyla watched me for a moment. Her mouth opened like she might say something else, then the moment passed. My hand dropped. She nodded, backing up, and headed to the seating area I had gestured to before. Without a good reason to keep her engaged, I turned to the kids I was supposed to be focused on for this session.

“Alright.” I jogged the last few paces, noting the gaggle of kids knotted together, and where Brady stood off to one side. “Hey, you wanna help me put these out?” I tossed a stack of cones his way.

He caught them, looking surprised and grateful in one. “Uh, sure, Mace.”

Feeling like a Jedi with a purple lightsabre, I pointed out where I needed everything to go and directed the other kids into a few line drills and warm up stretches. Brady joined in as soon as he was done setting out the cones for me.

“Let’s start out with a circuit…”

I launched into the training program I’d spent the better part of a month working on to make sure it was both age and skill appropriate for the kids who had signed up, watching them work through the quick thirty to forty second rotations that tested their hand-eye coordination, ball skills, reflexes and endurance. After their first few sessions, their skills had levelled up and I adjusted each kid into groups accordingly. I wasn’t surprised when Brady was my star player of the morning, but he was.

“You’re doing great, mate.” I passed him the ball. “Keep your passes tight, watch where the player is running, where he's going to be, alright? You’ve got this.”

“Even if they’re a lot bigger than me?” His brow furrowed.

I grinned. “Yeah, but you’re faster.”

He let out a whoop and darted around the much bigger kid pelting at him to snatch the ball out of the air and kept on running, well past the try line.

I cupped my hands around my mouth to holler down the field. “Don’t forget to put it down or you don’t score!” That hadn’t been the point of the drill, but it didn't matter. They were having fun and Brady was suddenly the most popular kid on the pitch.

The kids were panting and sweating halfway into the session, but we'd all learned a lot about each other. Me, where everyone was at just by watching them, and them that I wouldn’t be the kind of coach, even for the short term, who they could just push over and spend the next few weeks twiddling their thumbs in the grass or slouching off.

I loved this game, and if I couldn't get some of them to love it along with me by the end of the clinic, then I wasn’t doing this part right.

“Alright, grab some water. You’ve earned the break.”

I called a timeout on their tenth time around the circuit before we hit some more serious skills. Not that the upskill would be all that serious. I wanted the kids to have fun and enjoy the game, but I also wanted them to go home and be able to at least pass the ball better with their cousins and friends or whoever the hell they played backyard footy with over the Christmas school holidays.

Even with the late afternoon shadows creeping across the short mown grounds that browned off nicely until it rained again, heat beat down on the back of my neck. I flicked my collar up, glad I’d sent Nyla to the shady area. A quick glance her way confirmed she watched her son practice, though a small frown decorated her face.

I jogged backwards as I studied her, calling the kids back to their drills. A lump formed in my chest as I remembered the assumptions I’d made the first time I met her. Fuck it, I knew better than to judge anyone. Hell, people had done the same thing to me and my family when I first turned up in Australia, barely able to read and so behind in my classes that it took me two years in high school to catch up. I sure as hell couldn’t sit still in a school room and I’d bet my month’s wages Brady suffered the same issues as I had, sans the language barrier.

“Are you watching my mum?” Brady ran beside me like a little wraith.

More than that, he freaking wellkept up with me.

I started and bit back a swear word a kid his age shouldn’t hear but probably already had in some schoolyard or other.

“Ahhh—”Busted. I didn’t need to add lying to my tally for the day already. “Yeah, I was watching your mum, kid. Just checking she’s alright in the heat.”

Notchecking her out,but it came close enough.I’d just addperving on married women to my list.I winced.Coach will have my ass if he catches me.

---