Jessup’s hair is still wet from the shower, but he doesn’t feel cold. Lots of yelling and jumping in the locker room after the game, coach quieting them down to remind them that they need to get back to work for next week, but it’s all good feelings; Kilton Valley didn’t put up much of a fight after halftime, final score 20–6.
Diggins singles out plays, players, all good, all good. And then he holds up a football. “We’ve never done game balls since I’ve been here, but then again, we’ve never had a playoff game, either.” His smile an electric charge sparking around the room. “I think we all know who this game ball is going to.” He turns to Jessup. “You were the beating heart of this team, and you deserve this.” Lots of huffing and hooting and “yes, sir” and clapping as Coach Diggins tucks the game ball into Jessup’s gut, the two of them hugging hard, and in the noise of the room, it’s only Jessup who hears Diggins say, “I’m proud of you, son.”
They end their embrace and Diggins continues to address the room: “You sent a message, but we’ve got another game coming on us fast. Now, smart decisions this weekend. I don’t need you doing anything stupid. No practice tomorrow.” Boys nodding, some serious, some smiling at the news. “Rest up. Get your bodies right. No practice tomorrow, but regular time Monday. I want you full of energy on Monday. This is the playoffs, baby! It’s win-or-go-home time now. And remember, film study at my house Sunday afternoon at four. You know who you are. Mrs. Diggins will have snacks for you.” He holds out his hand. “Bring it in.”