Chapter 31

Jeff

I watched the clock on the scoreboard tick down to zero.

Don’t turn around, I kept telling myself.

I wanted to show the scout that I was a team player, that I was more focused on my team than him. I clapped my hands and shouted encouragement. When guys ran back to the sideline, I slapped them on their helmets or shoulder pads.

I’m not going to lie though. Every fiber of my being wanted to turn around and find the scout sitting somewhere in the stands.

What if I never did find him? How did this work? Would he call me or something?

Luckily, I didn’t have to find him. He found me.

There was no time left on the clock when I heard someone say, “Jeffrey? Jeffrey Stoddard?”

I turned and took off my helmet.

He was on the track that surrounded our field. A small guy, decked out in red and blue. In other words, Huntington College colors.

“Can I have a word?” he asked.

You can have as many words as you want, I thought.

“That was one heck of a performance, Jeffrey. You’re quite the player. A high school star.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said.

Now that he was standing next to me, I saw just how short he was. Even shorter than Scooter, who was standing on my other side.

“No need to call me sir,” the man said. “Name’s Eric. Eric Musselman. I saw your recent box scores and contacted your coach. He told me I wouldn’t regret making the trip to see the game. He was right.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said again. “I mean, Eric. I mean, Mr. Musselman.”

“Eric’s fine,” he said.

He was staring intently at me. I remember that. At the time I thought it was a good sign. I thought it meant he truly was taking notice of me. Now I wonder if he was counting down the seconds to talk with Scooter.

“I’d like you to visit the campus sometime next week. Would that work for you?”

“I’m sure it would . . . Eric.”

“Great. Bring your teammate too.” This is when he first turned to look at Scooter. “Scott Williams, is it?” He looked at his clipboard to double check, then back up at Scooter. “We’re always looking for walk-ons.”

Scooter did what he usually does. He dropped his head and went mute. I couldn’t help but feel bad for him. As much as I hated all that had happened to me since he came to town, it wasn’t necessarily his fault. In any case, it wasn’t worth letting him risk a spot to play on a college team.

So rather than let him sabotage his own future, I put in a good word.

“He goes by Scooter, Eric,” I explained. “And he’s got some serious wheels.”

“I saw that,” the scout said. “We just need to get you to run in the right direction, son, and we might really have something there.”

He cracked a smile to let us know he was kidding.

I elbowed Scooter until he returned the smile.

Eric turned to me. “I’ll tell the coaching staff to expect you two boys soon.”

“You got it, sir—er, Eric.”