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In the moment, it felt as though time had slowed down and minutes had passed between lining up on the line of scrimmage and when the ball was snapped, but in reality, it was only a few seconds.
When I finally felt the leather of the football in my fingertips, I went into autopilot. My eyes scanned for my first intended receiver for this play to see that he was covered before shifting to the next receiver. The second I saw an opportunity, I let the ball fly right into the hands of my target.
First down.
For the first time in months, when I thought about football, I didn’t feel the overwhelming need to succeed hanging over me. Instead, I found myself smiling as we executed play after play.
That was until the second quarter.
The first quarter had gone off without a hitch. We’d managed to score a touchdown—a long route for Derek that he’d managed to stretch out for a score—and also get within kicking distance for Hawthorn to get a field goal on a stretch where none of our plays were breaking through for another score. We were winning going into the second quarter ten to nothing, but the momentum changed quickly.
With a few adjustments between quarters, San Diego’s offense had managed to break through our defense to make it a three-point game. With only two minutes left until the half, there was an expectation to get another to keep the lead.
But it seemed that San Diego’s defense had also made an adjustment.
A moment after the ball was snapped into my hands to start the first play of our possession, I realized I was being rushed. There is nothing more terrifying in this world than a three-hundred-pound lineman running full speed at you with the intent of putting you on your back. Panic seized my body immediately. In the matter of a second, all the memories of being sacked from last season flashed through my mind—freezing, panicking, and being unable to think about anything else for the rest of the game.
It’s happening again.
My body slammed violently into the ground with the force of the lineman landing on top of me and smothering me for a few seconds before the pressure disappeared. I was left staring up at the sky above me, the ball still miraculously clutched in myhands. Derek came into my view and extended a hand down toward me.
“Maguire was out of position and missed his block. That’s not on you, bud.” Derek slapped my shoulder pads before looking at me expectantly for the next play with the rest of my team. But there was a ringing in my head that was disorienting me, and I could barely make out what my coach was calling in my helmet.
The clock was running down, and I had no idea what Coach Randolph had called. Before my team could figure out that I was out of sorts, I called a passing play to Derek with the hope that I wasn’t making a mistake. If this didn’t work, my coach wouldn’t be happy that I’d gone rogue.
As soon as I called for the ball, I found Derek on his route. Luckily, muscle memory took over and my body managed to drop a ball into his arms despite the mess in my head. Derek broke the tackle the guy on him was trying to make and ran the ball in for a touchdown.
Cheers erupted around the stadium. Coach Randolph clapped me on the back and told me that was a much better call than what he had on when I ran back to the sideline. Derek and Hawthorn cheered and said things like “the old Nolan is back.”
None of that was true. All I cared about was getting into the locker room before I let my vicious thoughts take over in front of everyone.
The energy in the locker room was high as the coaches tried to calm us down to talk about next half’s game plan, but I could barely focus on the white board in the middle of the room to see what the plan was.
A body stepped in front of me and blocked my view of the locker room. “Come with me,” Lottie told me with her arms crossed over her chest. The look on her face told me that I wasn’t going to avoid her this time.
No one blinked an eye at us as she led me back into the training room off the locker room. The second the two of us entered the room, she turned to look at me.
“What happened out there?”
I blinked. Had she seen me nearly lose it?
“What are you talking about?” I asked. It was better to play it safe and let her reveal her cards first.
“You played the entire first quarter and most of the second quarter like you were back five seasons ago. You looked great.” I didn’t bother with reveling in her compliment. Ihadfelt great that first quarter and a half, but I knew something else was coming. “Then on that last drive, it was like you froze. It reminded me of some of the film I watched from last year. Any pressure on your right side and it’s like you collapse.”
Had that lineman come from my right side? How the hell did she connect all of that?
“Here, let me look at your knee.” Lottie motioned for me to get onto the training table before she pushed up the leg of my pants. She rubbed her hands together and breathed into them first. “Sorry, my hands are always cold.”
My eyes snagged on the way her lips puckered as she blew out hot air. I nearly had to physically shake my head to snap out of the trance the dark red of her lips had caught me in.
“How’d you notice that I panic with pressure on the right side?” I asked as she pressed on my knee.
“I watched film.” Her answer was short, which was probably deserved after I had dodged all her attempts to try and help me this week.
“I spent this last week reading all of Roger’s notes on your recovery after surgery. You barely completed half of the evaluations you needed to before the team threw you back in last season. Your knee hasn’t quite recovered, and I think you knowit. You’re painfully aware of it on the field. Any pressure from that side has you reeling.”
I wanted to glare at her and tell her that she was wrong. I wanted to laugh at her and say that maybe she wasn’t as good at her job as she thinks she is, but then … I’d be lying.
