Present
“Coach, we need to talk.”
I looked up to find Anthony standing in my doorway. I looked at the time. He should be out on the field practicing. Something was wrong. I stood. “What’s going on?”
He looked down at his cleats and put his hands on his hips. I waited for him to drop whatever horrible news he had. “Moats is drunk.”
“What?” It wasn’t even ten in the morning. I was still processing our game with the Bills. It was our first loss of the season so I was in a horrible mood. It wasn’t just a loss. We were annihilated 37-14. I refused to stop taking notes about what went so wrong. Three wins and one loss was still a good start, everyone assured me. But they didn’t have anything to prove. I did.
“I don’t think everyone knows, but I wanted to tell you before it got out.” He ran his hand back and forth over his buzzed head out of nervousness.
“You did the right thing by telling me. Let’s get him in my office. Does Jamal know?”
“He told me to get you.”
“Okay, let’s go.” I followed him out to the field where Grayson was propped up on the bench trying to down Gatorade. “Okay, stop trying to sober him up with that. That’s not going to work.” I looked around to ensure the press wasn’t on the field. “Let’s bring him inside.” Anthony and a third-string linebacker half-carried him into my office. I called Craig, one of the Cheetahs’ medical staff, and told him to bring IV fluids.
“Wow, Sutton. This is such a nice couch.” Grayson ran his fingers up and down the pattern in the fabric. He slid down and put his head on the armrest and tried to put his legs up on the cushions.
“Somebody take off his cleats, please,” I said. Once Grayson was settled, I told both players to get back on the field. We didn’t want to draw any unnecessary attention. They left as Craig was coming in with fluids. “Shut the door please.” Craig shut the door and immediately got to work hooking Grayson up. He protested only a bit before his eyes hooded and his breathing got heavy. “Don’t drool on my couch, Moats.” I grabbed a trash can and put it next to him. Craig took his vitals and sat on the chair opposite him.
“I’ll just hang around to make sure he doesn’t knock out his IV,” he said. I appreciated that he was here. Grayson was a big guy and I couldn’t manage him on my own. I debated texting Parker but decided to wait and see how Grayson was after the treatment. I turned my attention back to the video of the worst game I’d ever coached. The Bills were amazing. We were everything but. We looked sloppy. Grayson got sacked four times. He was sluggish, and for a brief moment, I thought maybe he was drunk during the game. We needed to have a serious heart-to-heart when he was sober.
The door opened and Jamal let himself in. “How’s he doing?” He quickly closed the door behind him. Nobody wanted this to get out.
“He’s sleeping it off right now. What’s the policy on this?” I asked.
“Therapy and detox. This hasn’t been a problem before. Maybe he got shit-faced last night and is still drunk this morning.”
“That might have happened in college, but not in the NFL.” I was so mad at him. Grayson had everything I wanted and he was blowing it.
“I guess I’ll run Archie through the drills and make sure he’s up on the play changes. Get him warmed up in case the penalty is Moats missing a game or two. I’ll gently bring it up to Bill.”
“Did he drive here? Is his car outside?” I hoped he was dropped off by a Lyft or a friend. I inwardly huffed. What kind of person let a friend drive or dropped them off knowing they were drunk?
“I’ll go check,” Jamal said.
Grayson went through an entire bag of fluids before his eyelids fluttered open. His throat was thick with phlegm as he tried to talk. “Where am I?”
Craig leaned over him to hook up another bag. “You’re in Coach McCoy’s office,” Craig said.
“How did I get here?” He was more coherent, but still out of it. He struggled to sit up. Craig offered him a hand.
“Why are you drunk at work?” I hissed.
He dropped his head into his hands and started sobbing. Craig excused himself, but I stopped him before he opened the door. “Craig, please keep this under wraps until we know more.”
“Yes, Coach.” He nodded and quickly disappeared.
I didn’t like being alone with Grayson, but I knew Jamal would be back soon. I didn’t know how to handle a grown man crying and I didn’t want to pry. “Look, whatever’s going on with you, we have people who can help you.” That only made him cry harder. When he started making a choking sound, I handed him the wastebasket just before he heaved. There wasn’t a lot, but enough to make me take a step back and pray he didn’t spew on my new couch.
“He didn’t drive here.” Jamal entered my office and was startled to find Grayson awake.
“Well, at least he didn’t endanger anyone.” I squatted so I could look into Grayson’s red-rimmed, teary eyes. “Grayson, how did you get here?”
He sniffled and wiped his eyes. “I think Matt dropped me off.”
“Who’s Matt?”
He shrugged and tried standing but wobbled and fell back onto the couch.
“We need to get him out of here,” Jamal said. We stood in front of him with our hands on our hips, not knowing the proper protocol.
“It’s lunchtime. If we can get him into my car without drawing a lot of attention, I can take him home,” I said.
“That’s right. You’re friends with his wife.” He looked everywhere but at me. Apparently, he knew about our past, too. I was sure the entire team knew, but nobody said anything because there wasn’t anything to say.
“I’ll text her and let her know we’re coming.” We had to get him off campus before rumors got out about his state.
“How are we going to get him to your car?” Jamal asked.
“I’ll get it and drive it as close to the building as I can. Meet me by the side door. Give me ten minutes.” It was lunchtime so most of the players and staff were in the cafeteria which was in a different building. I drove up on the grass and parked about twenty feet from the door. Jamal was waiting there with Grayson’s arm draped over his shoulder.
“Watch Crowbar for me. I should be back in an hour,” I said.
Jamal set a small wastebasket on Grayson’s lap. I’d texted Parker to meet us in case she was at the school or out doing whatever she did nowadays. A quick check showed me that she hadn’t seen my message yet.
“Be careful.” Jamal clicked Grayson’s seat belt into place.
I knew to drive slowly. I didn’t want him throwing up in my car. The office was bad enough. “Grayson, I need you to keep your eyes open.” I plugged his address into my navigation system and groaned. Nineteen minutes.
“Fresh air,” he said and fumbled at the buttons on the car door.
“Let me do it.” I rolled down his window and he stuck his head out and smiled. “You remind me of Crowbar right now.”
“Who…why is your dog Crowbar?” He laughed as though it was the most hilarious name. “It’s so weird.” At least he was communicating.
“He picked his name.”
Grayson frowned. “That doesn’t make sense.” He rambled on about how people should name dogs because dogs couldn’t speak.
“Do you have a dog?”
He smiled again. “I love Buttercup. She’s so good with the girls.”
“What kind of dog is she?”
“A golden retriever,” he said.
Of course, he had a golden. Perfect everything. “Those are great family dogs.”
We were quiet for a few minutes. I looked down at the estimated time of arrival. Twelve minutes. “How are your parents?” I didn’t know anything about them, but it was a neutral topic that we could probably talk about until I coasted into their driveway.
He snorted. “I don’t talk to them much.” Or maybe it was a bad subject. Before I could switch topics, he turned to face me. “I don’t like Parker’s parents. They’re awful people.”
I almost laughed. I wanted to agree with him but I had to keep our conversation from getting too personal. I wasn’t sure what he would share with Parker. “I remember them from high school. They didn’t like me.”
“They didn’t like you because you’re gay and they thought you were trying to convert their daughter. I can’t tell you how many times they brought that up.” He moved the visor down to block the bright sun that had poked its way through the dark clouds. “We’re going to get storms tonight. I studied meteorology in college.”
Three more minutes. My phone dinged and the text from Parker showed up on the screen. I’m home.
I was glad Grayson was slumped in the seat with his eyes closed. By the time we got to the entrance to his development, Parker had texted me the code to open the gates. Their house was gorgeous. I pulled up into the driveway. Parker opened the garage door and waved me inside. That made sense. Privacy. I could control the narrative somewhat at work, but nosy neighbors liked to gossip.
“I’m so sorry about this,” Parker said.
I tried not to focus on her leggings and tank top. She was either on her way to the gym or had just got back. “Where do you want him? I’ll help you drop him off somewhere.”
She might not have wanted my help, but she needed it. Grayson was a big dude and no way could she get him into the house without another person. I opened the passenger door and pulled him out. I put his arm around my shoulders and walked him into the house. Parker walked on the other side of him in case he wobbled. She directed us to the couch. He stretched out and started snoring.
I looked at Parker. “Is this a thing with him? I can’t begin to tell you how much trouble he’s in.”
“No. This isn’t normal for him at all. We’ve just got a lot going on right now.” She sat in the chair opposite him. She looked defeated. Her normally bright eyes looked dull and her features sad.
I wanted to comfort her but that wasn’t my job anymore. We were friends, that’s it. “I don’t want to pry. At all. But as his coach, I need answers. I need to go back and figure out what we’re going to do about this. He needs help. Even if this is a one-time thing, we have to treat it as though he has a problem. Nobody wants an alcoholic quarterback.” Her eyes welled up and I felt like a real ass. “Truly. We only want him to succeed.” Me, for selfish reasons, and the team because they needed a leader to guide them to a winning season.
“His problems aren’t alcohol or lack of commitment to the team. He loves being a Cheetah.” She looked at him slightly snoring on the couch with his forearm covering his eyes and shook her head. “I’ll have him call Coach Pierson later tonight.”
I took a deep breath. “I’m here if you need to talk. Either as his coach or as your friend. Take care of him and reach out if you need anything.” I meant it. Our past was the past and I could put any lingering feelings to the side to help somebody who needed it.
“Thank you.”
I stood and had to brace myself for the giant fluffball of a dog that barreled toward me. “You must be Buttercup.” The dog stopped short in front of me and wagged her tail. I smiled and let her sniff my hand before I petted her.
“You know our dog?”
“Grayson was mumbling a lot about dogs on the drive over here.”
She cringed. “I’m sorry, Sutton. I’ll talk to him when he sobers up.”
I stood. “I have to get back to work, but keep in mind what I said.” I couldn’t believe I was opening myself up like this, but a long time ago, I loved this woman. She didn’t deserve to go through whatever this was alone, and she probably didn’t have a lot of friends since they just moved here.
She put her hand on my arm, something she always did to soothe me. “Thank you. I appreciate your help and discretion.”
“Bye, Parker.” I was more enthusiastic when I said good-bye to Buttercup. I rubbed her ears playfully. “And you’ll have to swing by and play with Crowbar. He’s getting all the attention at work, but I have a feeling you would steal their hearts away.”
I slid into my car and waited for the garage door to fully open. I looked everywhere but at Parker who was standing in the doorway looking at me. When I put the car in reverse, I finally looked at her. She was leaning on the doorframe waiting for me to back out of the garage. Her shoulders were slumped, but there was an iciness in her blue eyes that I hadn’t seen before. I didn’t envy Grayson when he sobered up.
* * *
“Did you find out anything?” Jamal asked me before we started our afternoon coaches’ meeting.
“No, but I told his wife that there would be repercussions. I told her we had therapists available for all the players.” Mental health in sports was finally getting recognition. Too many players struggled with the stresses of the game. There was a lot of pressure to stay on top because there was always a willing player to take your spot if you failed. It was time for Grayson to take advantage of that. “And I told her to have him call you when he sobered up. What did Bill say?”
Jamal shrugged. “He said we have to sit down and talk to him about it and that he might have to miss the next game.”
“Fuck,” I said. I wanted to believe it was an isolated event, but I didn’t know anything about Grayson. I didn’t think Parker would lie to me, but she might lie to protect her husband.
“I know. This sucks. At least no one got hurt and we kept it under wraps. Maybe he does community service and attends AA meetings. We can only hope this is an isolated incident,” Jamal said.
“In the meantime, let’s get back to football,” I said. I didn’t want to talk about the Moatses. “We had a shitty away game. Let’s go over plays that will work against Chicago’s defense.” I could barely concentrate on anything. My mind kept wandering to Parker and what was going on in her marriage. We spent two hours reviewing the Bears’ four games this season. They also had a 3-1 record, but they were favored to win thanks to our recent colossal loss.
Halfway through the meeting, Jamal held up his phone. “It’s Grayson.” He jumped up and stepped out into the hall.
Out of habit, I checked mine for any text messages. There wasn’t anything. We didn’t even try to continue to talk about football. We wanted to hear Grayson’s excuses. When Jamal finally opened the door, it took all my energy not to jump on the table, lunge for his shirt, and yell “spit it out!”
“His best friend died. One of his friends drove to tell him in person and they drank until the early morning. Another friend who wasn’t drinking dropped him off this morning,” Jamal said.
“What do you say to that? What’s our policy?” We had bereavement leave, but it didn’t cover showing up to work drunk. I didn’t want to lose Grayson as a quarterback. If we had to go with our backup, we would be lucky to win two more games this season. With Grayson healthy and his head in the game, we had a chance to make it to the playoffs.
“Let’s get Bill in here and figure it out,” Jamal said.
I was extremely nervous. The five minutes it took for Bill to make his way to us felt like five months. We were all tense.
“So, what’s his story?” Bill’s voice boomed in the small conference room. He slid into the chair at the front of the table and looked at us expectantly. I looked at Jamal.
“Apparently, a childhood friend died last night, and he and his buddies got together to commiserate. Sutton had a conversation with his wife who assured her that this wasn’t like him at all,” Jamal said.
Jamal knew to only give facts and keep explanations short. Most coaches didn’t have time to deal with this kind of bullshit, but we needed Bill to make a decision about playing him. If not, we had to scramble to get Archie ready for the game on Sunday.
“Let’s have him meet with a therapist first thing tomorrow morning. He is coming in tomorrow, right? If he doesn’t, we’ll put in Archie.”
Jamal nodded. “Yes, he’ll be here. And he apologized profusely for screwing up practice today.”
I cringed and willed Jamal to stop talking. Coach made a decision and now we could move forward with the game plan.
Bill pointed at Jamal. “Make sure he gets into a therapist tomorrow. He doesn’t leave here until he sees one.”
“Will do, Coach.”
Bill nodded to us and left the room. We all let out a deep sigh followed by a nervous laugh.
“That wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be,” Brandon said.
“If it gets out to the press, what do we say?” Jamal asked.
It was like they’d never coached in the NFL before, but everyone here had. “We’ll tell them he missed practice for personal and private reasons and he’s excited to play Chicago this weekend. We don’t owe them anything.” I snarled just thinking about Duane Spitzer.
Joe, who had been quiet most of the day, wrapped his beefy knuckles on the table. “Then let’s get back to coaching.”
The pressure in my chest lifted, knowing Grayson was still in as a starter. We could build back up after our loss and get a few more wins under our belt until our bye week when we had the weekend off. I got out of there at seven, desperate for sleep. Today felt like a week. Even Crowbar was yawning as I locked my office. My phone dinged and when I saw the message, my heart almost stopped. It was from Parker.
Thank you for your help today. We know that’s not in your job description. We’d like to have you over to dinner one night as a thank you. The last thing we need is a scandal.
Shit. I couldn’t be rude. Not to her.
That sounds nice. We have a bye week coming up. Maybe that weekend.
Bubbles instantly appeared. That would be amazing. Feel free to bring a date. Lexi, right?
I didn’t want to get into why I was no longer with Lexi. I simply said okay and put my phone away. I couldn’t wait to tell Hayley on my drive home.