Jack DeCotto sat on the stool in front of his locker. He’d arrived early, well before the others. He wanted to spend time alone on the practice field, visualizing the plays and relishing the solitude.
Yes, the game was played with twenty-one others on the field. He preferred being by himself. Fate, or whatever it could be called, had thrust him into the life of an orphan who had no siblings and who lived with his grandparents until he was old enough to move back into his parents’ house and his grandparents were too old to stop him from leaving. He had no choice but to become independent. Now that he’d adapted, he wanted to keep it that way.
He pushed his toes into his cleats. He shoved his heels into place. He loosened the laces before tightening them, the way he always did. Getting the fit and the feel just right.
As Jack gave the dangling strings one last firm tug and began to tie his usual knot, the head coach passed through the otherwise empty locker room.
“Get ’em good and tight,” Connors said. “No excuses today.”
When Jack looked up, the long, thick strands of hair hung over his face. “I’ve never made excuses.”
Connors stopped. “You’ve never been the starter.”
Jack sat up, eyes narrowing. “Are you saying I am?”
The coach smirked. “Are you saying you didn’t know?”
“It’s just nice to hear it.”
“Then you’ll hear what every starter hears. Best eleven play.”
Jack stood. He towered over the coach, by at least five inches. “I plan to be one of them.”
“You’ve earned the chance,” Connors said. “Now, you’ve got to earn the spot.”
Jack turned to his locker, reaching for the shoulder pads with his red practice jersey pulled over it. “I’ve paid my dues.”
“For some, that’s part of earning the chance to earn the spot.”
Jack shoved his head through the hole in the pads. He pulled the shirt into place. “I thought it was a big part of it.”
“It is. But the rule applies to everybody. Best eleven play.”
Connors started to walk away. “Have you met Gordon?”
Jack watched him go. “Gordon who?”
The coach turned to Jack as he sauntered toward his office. “Lonnie Gordon.”
“I read something about him,” Jack said. “He gets to start paying his dues today.”
Connors stopped to open his door. He winked at Jack. “Best eleven play.”