Page 110 of Necessary Roughness
“He’s slower with the club,” Knox’s mom said. “Hope the girl was worth it.”
I took a bigger sip of my wine and waited for an opportunity to cut in and introduce myself. Three plays later, the other team scored a touchdown.
“It’s only one drive,” Knox’s father said. “We’ll get it back right here.”
They went out to the open-air seats, and I followed. They were sitting in front of me, whispering to each other. My chance was coming up. I rehearsed what I was going to say in my head, repeating the words until they lost all meaning.
Why was I so nervous?
The Wildcats ran the ball on the first two plays of this possession. Then, on third down, Knox faked a hand-off and dropped back to throw a long pass. He hurled it down field, the ball following the same arc as a rainbow. Everyone held their breath as the ball hung in the air almost like magic.
But it was under-thrown. Logan was the intended receiver, and he slowed down to try to make up for the poor throw, but a defender was already there and plucked the ball out of the air. The stadium erupted into curses and screams as the opposing player sprinted across the field, adjusting his route to dodge the wide arms of tacklers. Knox was the last player between him and the end zone, and for a brief moment it looked like he might be able to stop him, but then he hurdled over Knox’s tackle like it was choreographed ahead of time.
“I don’t understand why he threw it to Logan,” Knox’s mom complained. “Three defenders were covering him!”
“Bad decision, bad execution,” Knox’s dad growled. He knocked back the rest of his beer, then looked at the glass like it was responsible. “He’s been distracted.”
“All his senior classes,” his mom said. “And the pressure of the draft…”
“It’s not that,” his dad insisted while rising to his feet. “It’s something else. I bet it’s a girl.”
I froze.
“He said he was focusing on football this year,” his mom replied. “He said his love life was on hold.”
“Easier said than done when you’re the star quarterback at a small college. He hinted at it during his GameDay interview.” The older Knox look-alike sighed. “He has such potential. Why couldn’t he wait until he graduated? Or at least until the spring, when the season was over?”
“Maybe he’s in love!”
“Love?” The father barked a laugh. “Even more of a distraction. No woman is worth screwing around with his future in the NFL. Besides, he just so happens to find a girlnow, right before he receives a massive signing bonus? Whichever college skank has him twisted around his finger is only interested in money.”
“Robert! Don’t say that!”
“I’m being serious, Darlene,” he insisted. “I’m going to sit him down and have a talk with him after the game. I thought he was old enough to avoid making such mistakes, but clearly I was wrong. I’m getting another beer.”
He turned, and gave a start when he saw me. “I’m sorry, can I help you?”
I realized that I had been staring at them. “No, sorry, I’m just shocked our quarterback has thrown two interceptions already.”
“We were just discussing that,” he muttered. “Knox is our son.” He got a good look at me, and almost seemed like he was going to ask me a question. Then he shook his head and muttered, “Good thing this game doesn’treallymatter. Perfect season be damned. Time to focus on the conference championship.”
“It’s the first quarter, Bob,” another man said. “Don’t be so fatalistic.”
“Just being realistic,” Knox’s dad replied.
Knox’s mother turned around and gave me a smile that was so warm and welcoming that it broke my heart. “Why are you here, sweetie? Sorry, that came out so bluntly! I mean to ask, who are you related to? Did I hear you say you’re Brett’s sister?”
Everything I’d rehearsed tasted sour on my tongue. Not sure what else to do, I mumbled an apology and fled from the suite, down the escalator, and all the way out of the stadium.
That couldn’t have gone any worse.
48
Knox
“That couldn’t have gone worse!” our coach screamed at us in the locker room after the game. “It’s like all of you weretryingto lose that game!”
I felt like I was in shock. I still couldn’t believe it. Everything had happened so fast. The first interception wasn’t really my fault, a tipped ball that the other team made agreatplay to catch. Bad luck happened sometimes, and games weren’t won or lost on the first drive.
