CHAPTER TWO
JAKE ROLLINS
What shall we talk about next?
“Here’s to it then, another win, and another step closer to the playoffs.”
The five of us clinked our bottles together in celebration of our success.
Then, quietly, everyone looked down at their drinks, which wasn’t how celebrations were supposed to go.
“Bit of a squeaker, huh?” I said softly. “Last-minute conversion gambit doesn’t give us a commanding win.”
“Wins a win, Jake. Don’t be picky about it.” Ethan banged his fist on the table, but not so hard as to do any damage. But it grabbed our attention. The team quarterback was a good guy and more of a Captain America than any kind of table-punching angry Hulk.
“Yeah, but they’ve all been squeakers for, like, the past six games. We’ve put something together that’s unbeatable, but something’s holding us back.”
“What are you saying?” Sitting diagonally across from me, Hank glanced around the table at all of us. Five pro athletes at the top of our game, sitting in a booth in a popular bar in Arlington. “Is this where we blame someone for fumbling the ball or whatever?”
“Oh hell, no,” I snapped back. “This isn’t calling anyone out. It’s just a general... what’s a word for it?”
“Malaise?” Ethan suggested.
“Yeah. That, I think. Sort of, everyone’s not feeling it. Not everyone has their head in the right place and all that.”
“The hell’s the problem, then? What’s different now from three months ago?” Tyler was normally quick to mouth off. If anyone started shit with someone who fucked up, it would be Ty. Even he seemed to sense the emptiness within us.
Ethan leaned back in his seat. “So, how long have we been at this, boys?” he mused aloud. “Four years or so? One more for Hank?”
“Sounds about right. Four years at the top of our game.”
“Then it seems to me we’re settling into a bit of a grind. This isn’t so much fun these days. More like football’s our office job now.”
Across the table from me, my brother Lewis nodded. “Sure, yeah, it doesn’t hold the same, I don’t know, fire? Amazement?”
“Yeah, that’s not the right word, but we get what you mean,” I spoke on behalf of everyone, and no one contradicted me.
“Still, it’s pretty amazing how we’ve made our childhood dreams come true,” Lewis continued.
“Yeah, but we need more in our lives than just playing football, you dorks,” Ethan said.
Silence followed his words. None of us disagreed.
“What do you all do during the off-season? What do you do when there isn’t a game or practice drills or whatever else? And doing media stuff for the team doesn’t count.”
I leaned back in my seat. “Uh... probably play video games, or annoying my bro.” I held up a hand, and he returned the high five without a word. “Or whatever.”
“Yeah? It doesn’t seem like a fulfilling way to spend your time. Life needs more meaning. A sense of purpose.”
Ethan was spot on with his observation, of course, but I didn’t let that stop me from saying, “I’ll have you know, some modern video games have excellent stories that move me and make me think about life and our world.”
Everyone chuckled except Ethan, who leaned forward. “That’s not what I meant. Like, it could be a book, a movie, a stage play, or two bums fighting in the street, but there has to be more to life than mindless entertainment and work.”
Hank raised his bottle, pointing it at Ethan. “You guys surprise me. I thought the four of you swam in so much endless pussy that you’d never get bored.”
“Maybe football groupies aren’t as exciting as uh... other types of groupie, but a slew of anonymous sex.” Ethan shook his head. “It can get kind of tiresome. Trust me. You might not be into pussy, dude, but meaningless sex is all the same regardless of who floats your boat. Right?”
“Tell me about it.” Hank clucked his bottle against Ethan’s in agreement. Then he chuckled, “Spoken like a bunch of us haven’t gotten laid in too long.”
His accurate observation raised smiles around the table, but still, we sat in minutes of contemplative silence.
I took it to mean we all agreed with Ethan’s words as well as Hank’s. We’d all achieved everything we’d dreamed of, and it turned out it wasn’t enough. We wanted more. But more of what?
“I could walk up to any unmarried girl here tonight and probably talk her into coming home with me. Hell, I could probably talk a good deal of the married women into it too, but I sure as hell wouldn’t want to deal with the fallout,” Tyler mused.
“We hear ya,” I agreed. Small town jealous husbands can lead to something extremely dangerous and extremely fast, so I’d heard. There’d been more than one lousy story of affairs turning to disasters among our teammates. So far, the five of us had managed to stay out of any kind of sordid scandal.