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Each time, he shouts at the rookie as if it were his fault, but everyone can see who’s to blame.
Brett then underthrows the ball on two deep passes downfield as well. It’s not a good series, especially with the increased number of eyes currently on him.
To add to the embarrassment, Coach Chubb orders me in to take what he callsa couple extra snapswith the first team offense.
“This is bullshit,” Brett complains as we pass each other on the gridiron.
“Better get used to it, your highness,” I can’t help but jab back at him.
“Get that rookie off my field,” Coach Chubb orders, and Cooper runs to the sideline.
I get it. He wants to see if the rookie is making me look good or if I’m closing the gap for the starting job.Challenge accepted.
“That arm is looking strong,” Griffin Moore, the team’s number one wide receiver, speaks up in the huddle.
I smile with confidence, and answer without hesitation, “I’m just getting started.”
“I’ll be open.” Moore smiles back at me.
Griffin and I both came into the league and to the Silverbacks organization in the same draft class two years ago. He was a first-round pick and started right away in his rookie season. He quickly became one of Brett’s favorite targets, and they lit up end zones all across the league.
But late last season, Brett started having some difficulty getting the ball downfield on a consistent basis. And if this year’s training camp has been any indication, those struggles look like they’ll only get worse.
I remember standing on the sidelines back in my rookie season, having dreams of teaming up with Griffin to pick apart other teams’ defenses. Now I’m lining up alongside him. Things are starting to come together for me.
This may only be a practice to everyone else here today, but to me this is an opportunity. I’m not sure how many I’ll get, so I’ll be damned if I don’t make the most of it.
Griffin’s extremely fast. His speed makes him hard to cover and always a threat, so when he’s on the field, defenses more often than not tend to put him under double coverage.
By the time I drop back and secure the ball in my hands after the snap, Griffin is already sprinting straight down the left sideline. I put a soft touch on the long pass so the ball drops in over his shoulder without him having to break a full stride into the end zone.
“Hell yeah. That’s what I’m talking about.” Griffin lets me know he approves as we butt helmets and celebrate behind the goal line.
Two more plays with similar results leave the sidelines buzzing with excitement.
Coach Chubb has seen enough. “That’ll do. Clear the field and get them ready for team meetings this afternoon,” he barks at the rest of the coaching staff as he walks off the field for his media availability session. Most of the gathered reporters follow closely behind.
“Let’s go get some celebratory lunch.” Cooper wraps an arm over my shoulder.
“What are we celebrating?”
“The team’s new quarterback controversy.”
“Don’t start that shit.”
He grins at me. “I didn’t start anything, buddy. You just did.”
“Rogan,” an attractive young woman calls out as she hurries over. It’s the same redhead I saw Brett speaking to the other day. I give a nod of my head in acknowledgement.
“Find me when you’re finished,” Cooper says, walking off.
When the redhead is only a couple of steps away, she trips over Brett’s water bottle. Moving forward as she falls face-first toward the ground, I wrap my arms around her, trapping her against my chest.
Large, startled green eyes stare up at me. Her freckled cheeks pinken as the initial shock wears off. I help steady her before releasing my hold.
Her top teeth press into her lower lip before she speaks. “Thank you for catching me.”
“No thanks necessary. I’m glad I was standing here.”
