“You’ll have to think about throwing the football from now on.”
“Doc, I can barely move my arm.” CK messaged the surgery scars on his shoulder. His right hand twitching erratically.
The doctor raised the back of his hospital bed until CK was sitting up. “Your trapezius and deltoid muscle groups are starting over. They’ll never naturally make their former motions without the help of the implants. The implants are tuned directly to your brain waves. Think about your throwing motion, and the muscles will follow.
CK swallowed, closed his eyes and exhaled. He imagined the leather ball in his grip. He saw the open receiver. Suddenly, his arm sparked to life. It slammed against the pillow propped behind his head. Haltingly, CK followed through with his throwing motion then cradled his right arm with his left. He breathed deeply and smiled. “I think I get it.”
The doctor nodded. “Thinking is getting it.”
*****
CK jerked awake with a shooting pain in his shoulder. He cradled it while lifting his face from the sticky surface of the table. A string of drool ran down his chin. He realized he’d fallen asleep in a film cubicle. Forgetting about his shoulder, he checked his time stamp and exhaled a sigh of relief—2:30pm. He’d only been out for twenty minutes—long enough to dream about something. He couldn’t remember what.
He woke his tablet to resume where he’d left off on the third down plays. Instead of the scout team call sheet, he found a blog post open on his device. A glance at the headline sent tremors through CK’s body. It read, “Burnet’s Varsity Football Becomes First in the Nation to Pledge Substance and Implant Free.”
CK glanced left and right, expecting someone to step out and reveal the tasteless gag. When no one appeared, curiosity forced CK to skim the article:
Last week, Burnet made national news by becoming the first high school in the United States to implement a rigorous testing process to guarantee the entire Varsity and Jr. Varsity squads (the Bulldogs) are drug and implant free throughout the entire year. Christen Campbell, the varsity quarterback, spearheaded the project. Over the last year, he has dedicated roughly 200 hours to making the program a reality. When asked why, he replied, “It’s what my mother would have wanted.”
CK pinched the bridge of his nose. Who would think throwing this in his face could be funny? Sure, CK had become a hypocrite. Everyone knew it. Most of all CK knew it. Despite himself, he skimmed to the bottom of the article and continued reading.
A year later, the varsity football players of Burnet say they feel stronger and faster than ever. Campbell says that having a cause beyond winning on the field has motivated the entire team to train and practice harder. In Campbell’s words, “We want to prove to the rest of the world that the body God gave us is already tuned for optimal performance.” When asked if his mother would be proud, he attempted to respond but could only smile and nod.456Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQldHQFDMQW
As a ex-NFL scout who has been in and around the business of football for over two decades, I have to admit, Campbell and several of his teammates looked good. If the Burnett Bulldogs keep this up, I’ve no doubt they’re going to add more players to the list of NFL success stories. More importantly, these young men are well on their way to being successful in life.
Of all the tragic irony. CK shook his head. He scrolled to the top of the article to find the byline. He wondered why he’d never seen the article before or heard of the guy who’d written it—Jim Rauch. The name didn’t ring a bell, and CK knew every big name sports writer. It didn’t matter. CK deleted the article and reopened his scout team call sheet. He had to leave the past in the past in order to have a future.
A quick glance at the call sheet convinced him he was good to go for this afternoon’s practice. He actually looked forward to running the planned bootlegs and play action passes that weren’t regular parts of the Aztec offense. Henderson and himself were very different quarterbacks. He matched styles more closely with the young gun on the Cowboys, Trent Hunt. The Cowboy’s playbook would give him a chance to showcase his abilities.
The thought of redeeming his so far disastrous day sparked him into motion. He stood while slipping his hand into his pocket. He removed the Sacajawea coin Coach Diesel had given him and rubbed it for motivation. The Aztec organization had paid him to perform a job. Now he had a dollar to pay back. His past didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to let some prankster ruin his present opportunity.
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