Old Fashioned - Becker Brothers

JordanIt was late as hell, but the two-hour bus drive back to Stratford was anything but sleepy or quiet.

The energy wafting between the players was palpable as they relived every moment of the game, sang our fight song loud and proud, and passed the trophy around to take pictures and rub it for good luck going into the next season. They were already posting all over social media, making phone calls to their girlfriends or their families they had to leave behind at the stadium, and to the ones who hadn’t been at the game at all. And of course, I heard talkbragging about what the sports articles were already saying about the game in the online blogs.

I half-listened to their merriment, half-zoned out in the front seat, with my eyes losing focus on the yellow dots peppering the two-lane highway that led into our town.

Thankfully, none of the other coaches pestered me — likely because they knew after talking to reporters that I was absolutely spent — so I had silence amidst the chaos for the entire ride home.

I spent most of it thinking about Sydney.

Again, I wished for the focus I’d had before I met her. I imagined a completely different scenario for this night had I never known she existed, where I would be celebrating with the guys and taking silly pictures with the trophy and handing out accolades to those who deserved it.

As it stood, I was saving all that for Monday, when — hopefully — I’d be feeling more myself.

I wondered if it was partly everything going on with my father, knowing that the day after tomorrow, I’d be meeting up with my brothers to discuss where we’d go from here.

We’d all been sitting on what we’d found all week long, powerless to move forward without knowing what our options were, and now that I’d spoken with a lawyer in Nashville, I knew the odds weren’t in our favor.

We had something, that was sure, but if it would hold up in court was another question entirely — one the lawyer couldn’t answer without doing more research.

She said she’d get back to me, and to not do anything drastic in the meantime.

But she didn’t know my brothers.

Still, even as my heart squeezed with the thoughts of my father, I knew my misery tonight was wrapped up in Sydney. It was in the way I wanted to run to her when we won, how I wanted to pick her up and spin her around and celebrate with her more than anyone else in the world. It was in the way we found each other on that field, in the long moment that passed between us, in the tears that flooded her eyes before we both turned away.

And it was in the way I’d seen Randy holding her wrist, the way she’d panicked and fled the field, the way she couldn’t even look at me.

I hated the power Randy had over her, and the way he could make her feel like shit on what should have been one of the best nights of her career so far. He’d had enough sense to leave before I made my way over to where they’d been standing, but he also knew that I’d seen it.

If I had it my way, I’d take him down right along with Patrick Scooter.

With my mind racing the entire drive home, I had a feeling it would be another sleepless night as we pulled into the high school parking lot. There was a small crowd waiting for the bus — friends and family and students who had beat us back to the school and were now holding giant signs that welcomed us home as three-time champions — and I stood in the aisle when we parked, addressing the team.

“Before you leave, all the equipment needs to be off this bus and put away correctly in the locker room, understood?”

There were murmurs of acknowledgement, but most of the focus was on the crowd outside, and boys were already hanging out the windows and shouting down, starting the fight chant.

I smiled, standing aside and waving them off the bus. “Alright. Go have fun.”

They were a boisterous wave of noise and body odor as they flew out the bus doors and down to where the crowd waited for them, and the coaches and I stood back and waited, chuckling to each other when we finally made our way off, too.

I kept to myself while everyone celebrated, having already hugged Mama and Logan at that stadium after the game. They were staying in a hotel overnight, not wanting to make the late drive back, and Mama had already insisted that we celebrate tomorrow.

She didn’t realize there was so much more to do than celebrate.

I took my time in the locker room, taking the equipment from the guys as they dragged it in and sending them on their way. I didn’t mind staying back to organize it all and make sure it was in the right place.