Page 94 of Icing the Play

“Uh, yeah.” I hadn’t spent time with Casey, but he seemed like a good guy. I watched Casey throw a long pass to JJ. The last time I’d seen JJ was in the ER. “You know a lot of these guys are queer, eh.” I bit my lip. Why did I bring that up?

“They are?” Jim shifted in his seat, facing me. “Like who?”

“The quarterback, the wide receiver there, one linebacker…” That’s all I knew, but weren’t there five guys living with JJ? I furrowed my brows. “I think there’s a few more.”

“Wow, I didn’t know.” Jim scanned the field. “I wonder how many boys I’ve coached who were queer and didn’t tell me.” He pursed his lips. “It’s a shame.” After drinking some beer, he said, “There has to be a way for me to let them know they’re welcomein my program.” He set his beer in the holder. “Got any ideas for me?” His gaze swung to mine.

I shrugged. Shit, if only I’d had coaches like him. “Talk to them about acceptance and don’t allow homophobic slurs on the field or in the locker room, eh.”

A smile spread over his lips. “Yeah, like Vince Lombardi.”

Caroline ate the last bite of her burger and smiled at him. “He was a great man. I know he was with Green Bay and being a Bear, you hate that team, but he was a magnificent coach.” She crushed her wrapper into a ball and set it under her seat.

I wasn’t sure what they were discussing, but I’d heard the name. “Who?” I sipped my beer.

“Vince Lombardi coached the Packers in the sixties and was well known for his support of gay players and personnel in the organization. Word was, his brother was gay. He was way ahead of his time.” His gaze crept to the field. “I’m going to be like him. Hell, everyone deserves respect and to be given the chance to shine.” He patted my knee. “Things are changing, son.”

My vision blurred. What an incredible man. “Thank you, Coach.” Would he be my father-in-law someday? I could only hope.

Sixty minutes in,ASU, down one touchdown, held possession of the ball. Jim had been ranting about the coaching staff the whole time. The players lined up on the twenty-yard line, crouching for the snap. Casey stepped behind the center for the third down.

With a huff, Jim said, “This is perfect for Cooper. If they don’t run him, I’m going down there and I’ll?—”

“You’ll do no such thing. We’re not in Pop Warner anymore.” With a tut, Caroline slapped his forearm.

Jim grumbled and said, “Watch this, Myles. Cooper’s aboutto run behind the quarterback.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

After calling to his players, the ball snapped to Casey, and he shuffled backward, holding the ball above his shoulder, readying to throw.

“Wait for it.” Jim ticked his head.

Cooper shot forward and doubled back, dashing behind Casey and snatching the ball from him as Casey dropped his arm.

“Holy shit, go babe!” I jumped from my seat and pumped my fists as the whole stadium stood.

“He’s got it. Look at him go.” Jim barked out a laugh.

Running to the sideline, Cooper ducked into a player, throwing him over his back, and took off like a rocket toward the end zone.

Defensive players raced toward him.

He dashed around them, tucking the ball into his side, twirled, and then jumped over another player who dove for his legs. With a skip, he rolled into the end zone.

The crowd went wild, everyone jumping up and down.

Turning to Jim, I gave him a high-five, and then Caroline.

The jumbotron image cut to Cooper, hugging Casey and JJ. As they parted, Cooper pointed into the camera and mouthed,that’s for you, Myles. He held his fist over his heart.

“Well, I see he’s no longer scoring for his mother.” With a shake of her head, Caroline huffed a laugh.

The next weekend,Cooper was out of town for his game, and I’d played well in the Friday night game. I was still wearing a brace under my gear, but I felt strong and scored a goal on Providence. Of course, our superstition with the vibrating sleeve was still helping.

I walked in my suit through the hallway at Mullett Arenatoward the locker room, following Neuman and Pieterick, my nerves on edge. I had to play better than my best tonight.

“You’re meeting the scout from Seattle tonight, right, Cummings?” Neuman glanced at me.

“I am. Coach is supposed to get me when they’re set up.” I scanned Coach’s office as we passed it. It was empty. Were they in the general conference room talking about me? What would Coach tell the scout?

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