Fallen Fourth Down (Fallen Crest #4)(79)

“Yes, sir.”

He patted his chest, still holding his phone. “I’m Douglas Montgomery. I just got off the phone with a buddy of mine. He’s at the state cross country meet, and he mentioned that he could’ve sworn he just saw you there.”

“Yes, sir. I was there.”

“That’s an hour away.”

I nodded. I was aware because I was late getting into my uniform. The buzz from the stadium was loud and parking had been a nightmare. It was the first game of playoffs. Everyone was ramped up more than normal and this guy, whoever he was, was going to make me even more late. “Yes, sir. My girlfriend ran today. I wanted to be there for her.”

“Your girlfriend?” He eyes narrowed and he tilted his head to the side. His hand lifted, rubbing his chin. “You’re from Fallen Crest, right? My buddy was going to watch a girl from there. Which one was your girlfriend?”

Hearing his question, I was filled with pride. I tried to hold back a smile, but I couldn’t. I said, “The one that won.”

“Really?”

“Yes, sir.”

“WHERE THE FUCK IS KADE?!”

Hearing my coach, I gestured behind me. “I need to go or I won’t be seeing any playing time. It was nice meeting you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” A keen look came over him and he held his hand out. “It was nice meeting you.” After shaking hands, he patted me on the shoulder. “You’re going to go far. I can tell. Maybe your girl too. How about that, huh?”

“KADE HAS THIRTY SECONDS TO GET HIS BEE-HIND IN THIS LOCKER ROOM—”

“I’m sorry, but I really have to go.” And with that abrupt statement, I sprinted and crashed through the locker room door. Once inside, I ducked my head down and ran through the team. They had already formed a circle in the middle of the room, all in uniform, all raring to go. Even though I just got there, I felt the nervous excitement from the guys. “I’m here. I’m here. Sorry, Coach.”

“Get your gear on, and you will be giving me a damned good excuse why you’re late.”

I nodded. He meant after the game. He had already taken his spot in the middle of the room with his coach’s jacket on and his whistle in hand. He never used it, but he liked to swing it around for his speeches. I caught the look in his eyes. He was primed and ready to go.

As I dropped my bag and started changing, Drew patted me on the back. He leaned in close and whispered, “Did she win?”

I nodded, not saying a word. Coach was still watching me. Matteo started to lean in close, from the other side, but Coach pointed at him. “Swallow your words, Robards.”

Matteo scooted away. “Swallowing, Coach.”

“This is team time.” As he said those last two words, he pointed at the floor. His hand moved up and down in an abrupt motion. “Team. Time. Not social time. Not time to ask how his girlfriend did. Team. Time. My time. Mine.”

He swept his gaze around the room, waiting, watching. That one gesture changed the feel of the room. There’d been nerves, some jokes, but as our coach lifted his chin, everything settled in the room. As he started his speech, I finished getting my uniform on and slowly sat down between Drew and Matteo.

“Gentlemen,” he looked at each person, holding their gazes for a beat before moving onto the next person, “this is the first game of the playoffs. This is the game that when we go out there, we either win or we lose. If we win, we keep going. You keep doing your jobs. If you lose, we’re done for the season.” He shook his head, taking off his hat. As he did, he rubbed a hand over his hair before putting the hat back into place. “For the veteran players, you know how I get during playoffs. I don’t believe this is the last game. It’s the next game. It’s the next win. We keep going. We always keep going. Sometimes we go all the way and sometimes we don’t. That’s fine. You can go home, rest, and enjoy the off season. You’ve had a good season so far, but the playoffs…” His voice was soft, but everyone could hear him. Everyone was so still. “The playoffs is where we make our season great. That’s my job. My job is to keep you going, to remind you how great we can be as a team, that there’s a reason our stadium fills up every game.” He pointed out the door. “Do you hear that?” He paused and the buzz from the crowd filtered into the room. “That’s our fans. Those are your fans. We love them. We’re grateful to them, but we’re not here for them. You’re here for you. We aren’t playing against the other team. We’re playing against ourselves. Each game, to do better. Be better. Each game, play as if we’re six down, thirty yards to go, and we’re at fourth down. It’s the next play that’ll make or break the game for you. Fourth down. That’s our mindset. Every play, we go hard. Every play, you strive to be perfect. Every play is fourth down. You got that?”

No one said a word. No one looked around. We were all focused on him.

“How are we playing?” he asked us.

As one, we answered, “Fourth Down?”

“How?” he raised his voice.

“Fourth Down!”

“HOW?” He cupped the backs of his ears. “I WANT TO FUCKING HEAR YOU!”

The other coaches waved their arms in the air. “Stand up!”

“Get to your feet!”