Her Secret, His Child

Kyle stood his ground. "What kind of message are we sending Brad, and all the others like him, if we tell them they aren't bound by the same rules as everyone else, simply because they can play football?"

"Get off—"

"I'm not finished yet," Kyle interrupted. "The world of professional sports is filled with young men who think they're above and beyond the law. I read the newspapers, Lippert. Athletes in jail for physical abuse, for drug abuse, gambling, murder."

"Next you'll be telling me the prisons are full of athletes!"

"No," Kyle said, supporting his elbows on the podium. "That's just it. They aren't. Because these athletes have managers, coaches and agents. They have money for lawyers who buy them out of trouble time and time again. Is it any wonder the kids' minds rot, that they don't think twice before breaking the law? We've basically taught them it's okay. That their sins will disappear. They've never been taught accountability."

Kyle shut up. He hadn't meant to lecture. Must've been because he was standing behind the podium. He also hadn't expected Coach Lippert to pay attention to anything he had to say, but the man was

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staring at him, all signs of aggression gone from his body.

"You're right, of course," the big man finally said, though he didn't appear too happy. "But what kind of message are we sending Brad?" He frowned, apparently thinking out loud. "The kid's really tried, done everything that was asked of him and then some. He's done the absolute best he can do." Coach Lippert glanced up at Kyle. "Are we gonna tell a twenty-year-old kid that his best isn't good enough?"

"A college degree stands for something," Kyle said. ' 'It tells any employer that the person holding the degree has mastered certain courses. Basic literature being one of them. If I pass Brad, I am in essence lying to anyone, at any point in his life, to whom his degree matters."

"The only employer that kid'll ever have isn't gonna care!" Coach Lippert came forward again, one hand on the edge of the podium. His arm bulged impressively from the strain. "Brad isn't ever gonna make it in the front door of any organization that'll give a damn about his degree. Not as a potential employee, anyway."

Kyle had to agree with the man there.

"Chances are, he's not even gonna get a degree. He's gonna be drafted before then. We just need to keep him in school long enough to get that offer."

Kyle listened. Really listened to what Coach Lippert was telling him.

' 'Yeah, I want to see my players make it big, but not at the risk of creating immoral human beings."

HER SECRET, HIS CHILD

Lippert said. Kyle had a feeling it wasn't very often the coach was this honest. He also had no doubt of the man's sincerity.

"Thing is, football is Brad's only chance," the coach continued, looking Kyle straight in the eye. "You've seen his work, Radcliff. You know as well as I do that the only kind of job he'd ever get out there would be menial labor, grunt work. And even that'd be fine, if it was all he was capable of doing. But it's not! The kid's got talent. More talent than I've seen in my twenty-five years as a coach."

Wishing he had some manual he could go to for the right answers, Kyle considered everything the coach had said. He weighed Lippert's unspoken request against his own standards. Growing up the way he had, the only thing that had seen him through was his principles. He always lived by the rules, always did what he thought was right, and because of it he'd been able to hold up his head.

But where were those rules written? How had they become a part of him? Who'd put them there? And how valid were they?

Did they leave room for compromise? For compassion? For occasionally making an exception?

"Brad has improved," he said slowly, as if hearing his own thoughts would help him put them in order.

"He's made every effort," Coach Lippert added, his elbow joining Kyle's on the podium.

"He's come to every class." Kyle took off his glasses, rubbed the bridge of his nose.

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' 'Done all the homework and extra-credit assignments," Lippert said, scratching his chin.

"He participates in class."

"He's actually learned some things," the coach said, grinning at Kyle. "Do you know, he started rattling on about slavery in the South one day. We were talking about which NFL owners he most wanted to work for and he brought up the subject of racism."

Kyle stood up, glasses still in hand. "And that's the point, isn't it?" he asked. "That the kid learn something about life? That's what literature is all about, isn't it? Life?"

"You got me," the coach said. "I slept through my American lit class."