Page 1 of Sideline Sweetheart
Chapter One
Bryce
The Corvette’sengine roars to life as I come out of a series of turns along the winding road and onto the straightway to the Greenville Generals practice facility. Today begins the first official day of practice for the entire team. The quarterbacks are the first to report, followed by the offense and defense. My foot presses down on the accelerator as I think about my upbringing and where I am today.
Growing up in a small Kentucky town, I had two dreams—to play professional football and own a Corvette. I achieved dream number one when my name was called during the first round of the draft four years ago. The second was a gift to myself a few months ago when I was named MVP of our divisional playoff game last season.
I’ve been around cars all my life, my dad worked for the maker of the car I now drive and on evenings and weekends he’d help friends and neighbors by working on their cars. Sometimes he made extra money, but most times he didn’t charge for labor, knowing if they had the extra money, they’d take their vehiclesto a garage instead of asking for his help. We lived modestly and everything Dad made at the factory was enough to cover the bills.
Mom helped make ends meet by working at a local restaurant. She took the breakfast and lunch shifts, so she was home to see me off to school and then she was off work in time to greet me afterward, usually with a piece of pie for an after-school snack.
From the time I started playing football my parents attended all of my games. They have been my greatest cheerleaders throughout my college and now professional career. Their support has kept me grounded, reminding me football may always be my focus, but being a good person means even more. For me, making them as proud as they were the night I was drafted by the Generals, is the ultimate goal.
The roaring engine lowers to a gentle purr as I glide into the parking spot and kill the engine. I grab my duffle from the passenger seat and exit the vehicle. I click the lock and pocket the fob as a low whistle reaches my ears.
“Looks like someone got an upgrade,” Owen Greer our veteran quarterback says as he rounds the car, taking it in from every angle.
I chuckle at his assessment. “Yeah, I’ve wanted one since I was a kid; figured now was as good of time as any to have one.”
His hand lands on my shoulder. “Good idea, because once you’re married, before you know it you have a minivan and only get to drive cars like this to the stadium and on date night with your wife.”
I laugh and shake my head. “Man, I’ve seen you with your family, don’t even pretend you wouldn’t trade in your car for a second van if you needed to.”
Owen has a Lamborghini, which is what we see him drive to and from the practice facility. But he’s just as comfortablebehind the wheel of his wife’s minivan as he leaves the stadium with his family after a game. As far as I’m concerned, not only is he the ultimate athlete, he’s the family man we should all strive to be.
He laughs as I pull open the door and we walk inside the training facility. “I would,” he says still holding the door open before looking back longingly at his prized automobile. “I might shed a few tears parting with her, but I’d do it all the same.”
We continue with the small talk, catching up on what happened during the off season until we reach the locker room, where we drop off our duffle bags and then head to the meeting room.
The buzz of voices reaches us before we open the doors. The scene inside reminds me of the first day of school, where you’ve been away from your friends for nearly three months, and you have approximately five minutes to catch up with each other before the bell rings and you have to be quiet for the next forty minutes. Players from both the offense and defense are standing in groups while animated conversations and boisterous laughter fills the room.
Our entrance catches the eye of linebacker Harlan Mathis, who wastes no time in announcing Owen’s arrival.
“QB1 in the house,” Harlan calls out to the room, his voice booming off the walls and causing another wave of celebration.
Owen pumps his fist in the air several times before pointing in Harlan’s direction and thumping his chest, thanking him for the love. I clap him on the shoulder as I follow him down the center aisle to find an empty seat on the offense side of the room.
As we settle into our seats, I tease the man of the hour. “I think from now on, I’ll walk into every room behind you.”
Owen chuckles and shakes his head. “You’re six-foot-four, you don’t need me to get noticed walking into a room.”
The side door of the meeting room opens, and Coach Blakely enters before stepping up to the podium in front of the Greenville Generals logo displayed on the big screen. The rest of the coaching staff files in, followed by the assistants who take their seats on their respective sides in the first and second rows.
“Good morning,” Coach says before clearing his throat. “Welcome to training camp. Veterans, as you know, and rookies, as you’re about to learn, today there is a lot of paperwork we need to complete as well as going over any new rules the league has established during the off season. In case you haven’t met the rookies yet, we have guard Liam Seigle.”
As Liam stands and waves to the team, a picture of his eight-year-old self in his football uniform appears on the screen behind our head coach, making the whole team chuckle and Liam shakes his head as he returns to his seat.
Coach continues introducing the two remaining rookies, Harris Mathis our new linebacker, who happens to be Harlan Mathis’s cousin, and Ryan Michaels our new tackle. Both receive the same treatment as Liam. Coach grins as the laughter dies down. “Your parents were more than accommodating in supplying those photos along with a few others I’ve turned over to our PR staff in the event they need to be used.”
Coach Blakely goes over the changes to the coaching staff and provides introductions to the new assistants. “There’s one more item I need to address and then I hand this over to the coordinators for their portion. As I’m sure you’ve all heard, Dr. Silverman passed away. Not only is his passing a great loss to this team it’s a loss to the community as well. We have obtained a replacement. Dr. Flynn will be joining us next week and will be setting up individual appointments with each of you to review your medical history and anything else needed. Any questions?” When no one responds, coach claps his hands. “Okay then, I’ll turn this over to Coach O’Neil.”
Coach O’Neil, our offensive coordinator, followed by Coach Riggs, our defensive coordinator, each address the team and introduce their respective support staff. When they are finished, Coach Blakely returns to the podium. “Okay, with all the pleasantries taken care of, it’s time to get to the paperwork portion.” Four of the assistants begin moving around the room, handing out our playbooks for the season and a packet of mandatory release and insurance forms we update each season. I open the packet and the first thing I find is a schedule listing each player’s allotted time to meet with the public relations team, nutritionist, and Dr. Flynn, as well as the times to meet with the strength and conditioning staff, and the equipment manager to take possession of our practice uniforms.
“Looks like the fun continues tomorrow,” I mutter under my breath as take the pen provided and begin filling out the necessary forms.
Chapter Two
Mackenzie
