Read Online The Walk On by John Feinstein - Free Book Online Page B

another short pass, Coach Hillier would give him a look as if to say,
Stay cool and do what you’re told
.
    He did as he was told. The more he watched both Gordon and Bilney, the more upset he became that he wasn’t getting the chance to show what he could do. The funny thing was he liked both Gordon and Bilney—especially Gordon. It would have been easier if they acted like jerks, because then he could
really
get mad. But neither one was like that. In fact, one afternoon after Gordon had taken about half his reps, he turned to Coach Hillier and said, “Coach, why don’t you give Alex a few of my reps? I’m a little bit sore.”
    “Sore from what?” Coach Hillier said quietly. “Are you hurt, Matt? Do you need to see the trainers?”
    “No, but I just thought …”
    “Let your coaches think, Matt. You just play.”
    Alex wasn’t exactly sure what to think about Coach Hillier. At times he would stand behind him after a play and offer words of encouragement or suggestions. On occasion he would step in to show him how he could run a play better. He quietly suggested that he slide his thumb slightly upward so he would have more control of the ball, and Alex was amazed at the difference such a subtle change could make. His throws instantly had a tighter spiral and seemed to get where they needed to get with just a tad more zip on them.
    Then there were moments when Alex knew he’d made a good play, made an adjustment during the play that the other quarterbacks couldn’t make, and he would be greeted with silence. It was almost as if it were okay for Coach Hillier to encourage him—but only up to a point.
    As they walked off the practice field, Alex thanked Gordon but it was Bilney who responded.
    “He did it because you need extra reps, Goldie,” he said. “If we struggle on offense and I come in, I’m Matt lite—same type of player, just not as talented. You come in, our offense is entirely different.”
    Alex looked at Matt. “That true?” he asked.
    Matt, who hadn’t broken stride, shrugged. “Jake knows his football,” he said. He put a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “I also like you.”
    “Can we break up the lovefest?” Jake said. “Go in there and be a star one night, Goldie, and
then
see how much Matt likes you.”
    “I’d still like him—in fact, if he wins a game for us, I’ll flat-out
love
him,” Matt said. “But he’s not taking my job. Not yet anyway.”
    They were coming up on the locker room door. Jake smiled.
    “If my last name was Gordon, I could say that too,” he said.
    “If you were any good, you could say that,” Matt said. He was smiling, but for the first time since he had met him Alex heard a little bit of an edge in Matt Gordon’s tone.
    “Yeah, that too,” Jake said, and the tension broke. They all laughed and Alex pulled the door open.

    The only thing more frustrating than football practice was French class. Alex had no chance to even try to sit close to Christine Whitford because she seemed to arrive everyday with an entourage of four or five girls who would all sit together. One day he beat her to the door and pretended to be reaching into his backpack for something in the hallway. When she walked out the door, he looked up as if surprised to see her.
    “Hey, I hear my coach is your editor,” he said, reaching for an opening.
    “
Your
coach?” she said with a smile, not slowing her walk down the crowded hallway. “Doesn’t he coach everyone on the offense? Or is he personally assigned to you?”
    Alex had managed to fall into step with her.
    “He coaches all the quarterbacks,” he said, trying to sound as casual as possible.
    “So he coaches Matt Gordon, Jake Bilney, and you.”
    She clearly knew something about football.
    “You follow the team closely?” he asked.
    “I’m going to be one of the people covering the team, so I’ve been studying the depth chart.” She glanced at him. “I’d come and watch practice, but Coach Gordon won’t let