Play Maker (Bitsberg Knights Duet)

“Yes, sir.”

“Good man.” He patted my shoulder once more, harder this time, as though hoping he could physically knock some of his pep talk into my body. “Let’s go.”

Without waiting, he stalked back to the rest of the team. “Huddle up, gents.”

Beaumonster led the team out of the tunnel, and the crowd came alive. It had been snowing on and off for the last several days, and today was no exception. The near-zero temperature made things downright ugly. When I reached the sidelines, I grabbed a ball and started throwing passes with one of our receivers to stay warm. My eyes scanned the packed house and zoomed in on the seats I’d given to Shelby.

On top of everything else, I knew there was a good chance she’d be there watching me. I hadn’t heard from her since slipping her my number at the diner but had held out hope she’d still show up for the game. Only now, I worried I was going to fall flat on my face in front of her.

“Head down. Keep your shit together, Leverette.”

I rolled my shoulders back and down, turning a steely eyed glare to the field as both teams got set. The crowd was buzzing, the thundering noise protecting my heart before it could careen right out of my chest. It was hard to pick out individual faces from the crowd, between the lights, noise, colorful signs and pom-poms, but I turned a watchful eye to the section where the seats they had given me were. My heart hammered when I spotted Shelby standing with the rest of the crowd as we prepared to take the field. At first, I couldn’t tell if she was watching me or not, but when she wiggled her fingers and flashed a bright smile, there was no doubt.

“Leverette!”

I jolted at Coach’s snapped command. “For fuck’s sake, Leverette. Get your head in the game. Coin toss. Center field. Defer and take the south if we win the toss. Let’s go.”

“Right, yeah. Coming, Coach.”

I shook my head and jogged out onto the field along with my co-captain, the Beaumonster. As the referee went through his instructions, I took one last look around and soaked it all in. Today was going to make or break my career, but either way, I was here now and planned to leave everything on the field of battle. The air was frosty, and it looked like the meteorologist’s promise of more snow and ice was going to come true. I just hoped it would hold out for a little while longer.

By the two-minute warning late in the fourth quarter, the icy air materialized into powdered snow and the field was coated in frost. Both teams had multiple turnovers and equally struggled to move the ball down the field. The fans were out of it. As I glanced into the stands, I saw lots of folks heading for the exits. By some miracle, we were only down by four points, two minutes left on the game clock. We had the ball first and ten at our own twenty-five-yard line. I’d played all right up to this point, considering the weather and everything. I knew all eyes were on me.

I was looking over plays from our two-minute drill when Beauman pushed his way through the group of players and coaches surrounding me. “You good, man?” He asked as he bounced in place beside me, rubbing his hands together to keep them warm.

I raised my own and blew a puff of hot air into them. “Yeah, man, I’m good.”

“We got this in the bag,” he said, channeling some sort of internal fountain of optimism that I couldn’t access.

I gave him a weak smile as he jogged off. Coach Wheeler came over and gave me the once over; he had a calmness about him that relaxed my nerves. “Listen, Leverette, you have hung in there like a pro today. I couldn’t have asked for more. We got two minutes on the clock and about 20,000 fans left that would love to see you rock this place. Forget it’s minus three degrees, forget that the field has turned into an ice skating rink, and whatever you do, don’t think about the piece of ass you keep looking up at in the stands over there. It’s time to go out there and play the goddamn game you love so much. Leave the B.S. right here, play smart, and don’t give up the fuckin’ football.”

It was now or never. Man the fuck up or go home.

As I waited for play to resume, I tossed a glance over my shoulder and a blast of warmth spread through me when I saw that Shelby was still up in the stands. It was hard to be certain as the snow came down harder, but she was easy to spot. Most of the fans in her section had headed for the exits a while ago. She was there, smiling and clapping with the other diehard fans who would stick out every last second—frost or no frost.