Chapter 36: Elite 11 (Part 2)

Wednesday July 8

We showed up for our morning class, and two of the guys were missing. The rumor was some of the guys had reverted to their high school ways: breaking curfew, arriving late, and not showing up. At home this might be considered trivial, but it was unacceptable to the coaches here. Coach Trent went up to the front to talk to us. As soon as he got situated, the ESPN-HS crew came in to capture what was going to be said. This just reinforced Bo's observation that this was reality TV.

"As you can see, two members of our original eighteen are no longer here. They have been asked to leave. Some of you were caught out after curfew. Others may think it is okay to be late. This is real life. When you get to college, no one is going to hold your hand and make sure you're where you need to be, when you need to be there.

"I could get angry and yell, but I am also a parent. I know that doesn't work. Let me just say this will never ever happen again. I am dead serious about that. I told the 160 athletes that are helping you what is going to happen, and exactly what my expectations are. That means there are 160 pairs of eyes in addition to ours who are watching everything you do, and the decisions you make. If they don't see it from you guys, then my message means nothing.

"Okay, before we go out, today, we are going to try something new. I want you all to go to room 105," Coach Trent announced.

We packed up and went to the room where we found mats on the floor. We were told to find one. A young woman came in in leotards and went to the front of the room. Coach Allen joined her.

"This morning we are going to be doing yoga. Your goal in this exercise is to test your focus, and to make you feel better. As with everything else, you will be watched. We will be evaluating you on how you do yoga. You'll be learning to try something different, and totally buying into it. Focus on quieting your mind. Don't let your doubts, anxieties, or fears get you down."

We spent the next hour doing yoga. I took Coach Allen and Bo's advice and tried to get into it. A couple of times I caught myself trying not to laugh with some of the goofy poses they had us in, but then I would refocus and just go for it. Heck, I had been in weirder positions doing modeling.

Doyle must have really relaxed, because towards the end he let out one of the loudest farts I had ever heard. Something had crawled up his butt and died, by the smell of it. I think he did the right thing by excusing himself, because I would guess he had filled his pants on that one. Even the yoga teacher wrinkled her nose when the noxious cloud made it to the front of the room.

I was happy when they told us we were done. I will admit I felt better after the class. Unlike Pilates' sneaky approach of trying to kill you; I felt well stretched out and ready for practice, after doing yoga.

As predicted, I was paired with Tim 'Cadillac' Rogers. We had nicked named him Cadillac because of how smooth his footwork was in the pocket. I had learned a lot watching him. Everything he did looked effortless. He had been the MVP at our camp in Columbus. The pride of Texas and I were getting to know each other, because this was the fourth camp we had both gone to.

"I hear a rumor you're the man to beat," I shared with him.

"Bullshit! You and Wes have to be the two leaders," Tim said.

"Nope, they rate us each night, and your name keeps popping up at the top of the list. You're the man we are all chasing. It would be really cool if you won the MVP here, also."

I was surprised when I saw him hesitate. I would have thought he would embrace being the best. I knew the other fifteen guys, including me, would love to be the Big Dog at this event. He gave me a weak smile, and then we began to run drills.

The first drill we ran was to drop back, fake a hand-off, and make a blind turn, while hiding the ball. We would then setup and throw a long ball down field. The only problem was they were running defenders at us from different angles, while our backs were turned. The challenge was to avoid the rush, find your open receiver, and then make the play. Scrambling and thinking on my feet was my strength, so I loved this drill!

I was excited, so they let me go first. They were sneaky in that they would send one of three defenders at you as you dropped back to hand off the ball. They wanted the defender to be in your face when you turned around after completing the fake. As I turned around they had a guy on the far outside zeroed in on me. I slid forward in the pocket to avoid him and found my receiver, and completed the pass.

They let me run the drill ten times, and I completed nine out of ten. Now it was Tim's turn.

I watched in horror as my new friend imploded on the football field. The first play he turned the wrong way and he and the running back collided, which caused him to fumble the football. The next play he was able to fake the handoff, but when Tim turned around the defender was going to his left. Instead of stepping to the right to avoid him he stepped left, and got run over. By the end of the drill, he had completed one out of ten passes, and the smooth operator was a jumbled mess.

It didn't help that ESPN-HS followed the two of us around. It was almost as if there was blood in the water, and these media sharks were circling a wounded seal. Tim tried to walk off to give himself a moment to gather his thoughts, but the camera crew was in his face. I could see he was about to punch one of them, so I ran over and grabbed him.

"Come on guys, give him a moment," I chastised them.

I had worked to win them over, so they left us alone.

"Dude, everyone is watching. You need to pull it together. They want to see how you react to adversity. We both know you're better than what you just did. Go get a drink and refocus. I expect you to kick butt the rest of the day," I told him.

I turned around to find the coaches had listened into what I told him. Tim took off, so he could gather himself. I jogged back, and we started the next drill. Tim showed up for his turn and did better, but he wasn't the same quarterback I had seen before. Towards the end of the morning session, he actually aimed the ball. I had never seen him overthrow or dump so many balls into the dirt. He suddenly couldn't hit the broad side of a barn.

On one of our water breaks, I went and talked to Bo.

"I think I fucked him up. I told him he was the front runner, thinking he would be happy. I think the pressure got to him," I said.

"I know he is your friend, but you need to focus. You are starting to play down to his level," Bo warned me.

I thought about it, and he was right. I was busy being worried about Tim, and had not given my all on every play. I had come to this camp to showcase my skills, and to compete against the best. I could feel sorry for Tim after we got off the field. I know it sounded selfish, but I needed to get my priorities straight.

When we got back to it, Tim did a little better. I refocused, and upped my game. I quit worrying about my friend, and took care of business. I had to block out what he did, so I made a point to go to Coach Allen, and talk to him between turns, so I wouldn't watch Tim. I think we were all happy when lunch finally was called. I left Tim alone, and jogged into the cafeteria. He didn't look like he wanted to talk to anyone.

When we came out from lunch, they had everyone, including the skill players and coaches, listen to guest speakers. Each one got about five minutes to talk to us. The one everyone was excited about was Heisman Trophy winner and #1 draft pick Jameis Winston. He talked about what a difference Elite 11 made for him as a quarterback.

Another guy who stood out was Teddy Bridgewater. He had attended Louisville, and was the first round draft pick of the Minnesota Vikings. In his talk, he pointed to the class of 2008 where seven of the eleven had been drafted into the NFL led by Geno Smith. That just highlighted for me that even the best high school quarterbacks didn't have a guarantee to make the NFL.

From the 2005 camp, Tim Tebow talked to us. He was a two-time national champ and a Heisman Trophy winner. He talked about having a strong moral character, and how his faith helped him be a better person and football player. He was the poster child for what a college would want in their quarterback. With all his credentials, he was a bust in the NFL. It was also a shame the media had condemned him for being religious. It made me very careful about talking about my faith, but I wasn't very vocal about it anyway.

Coach Trent was talking to us about the plans for the remainder of the day when he suddenly stopped. Wes, Doyle and Flee were talking to Jameis Winston and not paying attention.

"Do you three think your time might be better spent actually learning about football?"

I rolled my eyes at the guys when they came back. Flee looked worried. I don't think Wes or Doyle were embarrassed in the least.

We paired up again, and I got Tim. I don't know what happened during lunch. I mean someone must have stolen his girlfriend, or beat his dog. He just couldn't seem to focus. By the end of practice, I would have put Brad Hope up against him and won. I just shook my head in disbelief. Before practice started today, Tim Rogers had been the best quarterback in the nation. By the end of the day, he was nowhere near the top.

The Coaches at Elite 11 had told us we would be challenged. Tim now faced his. He needed to realize that he could work through his self-doubt, and turn this around. He may no longer be in contention for MVP, but he sure had a chance to make the Elite 11. When we finished up for the day, he was gone like a shot. I saw him talk to his parents as he left the field. I was a little disappointed in ESPN-HS, as they chased after him.

After practice, I found Tami, and she had a gleam in her eyes I liked.

"After dinner, you are taking me back to my hotel room," she informed me.

"I have to get back before curfew. I can't spend the night," I said.

"Come on, everyone is waiting for us."

She took my hand and led me to where my parents, brother and Bo were. Dad had rented a mini-van so we were comfortable go to dinner. We made the trip to Portland for tapas. Greg had found a place called Toro Bravo. Tapas are basically appetizer sized servings, with a Spanish flair.

I liked the place as soon as I saw it. It was packed with young professionals who looked like they were unwinding after a long day at work. It gave me the same vibe as when I visited Lincoln Park, in Chicago. People just seemed to be out in groups, having a good time. We had a hard time deciding what to order when the server offered us the chef's tasting menu. She explained the chef would choose what to bring out for our table. I was a little surprised when everyone was game.

I loved it. I tried things I never even thought of eating. Foie gras was one of the first dishes they brought out. It is made from fattened duck and goose livers. Of course I didn't tell Tami that, or she would never have tried it. Some of my other favorites were ox tail, salt cod fritters and braised beef cheeks.

Not all the food was great, but I enjoyed the opportunity to try new things. I wasn't as enthusiastic about the foie gras when I looked it up after I got home. I was not happy to hear they force-fed the ducks and geese corn through a feeding tube. I could say I had eaten it, though.

We were relaxed as we drank coffee and enjoyed dessert, while Bo caught us up on last night's coaches meeting. I wondered where he found his information, but thought it better not to ask.

"Tim was hands down the leader. I'm not sure what will happen after today. I think a lot will depend on how he closes out the next two days. Doyle continues to improve his attitude, and is moving up the chart. They are impressed at his turn around. Wes was right behind Tim for MVP.

"Roland continues to confound them. They are wondering if he is too smart. He purposely asked his coach questions, just to challenge him. He had some kind of need to show how smart he is. It is his insecurity. He has to be assured. If it wasn't for that, he would be in the top five.

"Your friend Flee is right on the cusp of making it into the top eleven. He is performing well, but his size is causing them concerns," Bo said.

"Where is David in the mix," Greg asked.

He smiled.

"He has surprised them. His time in Chicago and his off-season workouts have him playing much better than his tapes showed from his sophomore year. They originally thought he was good enough to be invited. Now they are talking about him possibly being the MVP. They keep talking about his confidence and skills. Yet he is not cocky."

"It's just a product of a good upbringing," I said.

"Look out. He is sucking up to us. Someone must be pregnant, or he wants a motorcycle," Dad said.

"Hey, you're lucky to have me as a son. I could be all whiny like your first one," I said.

"You shut up," Greg whined, making everyone laugh.

Bo was smart enough to stay out of it.

Tomorrow the best receivers would be here. They would be put through an NFL type combine called SPARQ, which measured speed, agility and power. It would give the coaches a score as to how athletic, how powerful, how explosive everyone was, including the quarterbacks.

I found myself back at Tami's room.

"How did you know I was getting horny?" I asked her.

"You poor 'stupid boy'. How long have I known you?"

She had a point.

Tami unzipped and removed her slacks while we bantered. She dropped them on the floor, and wiggled her butt at me.

"Do you want to take them off?" she asked.

I grinned at her. Of course I wanted to take them off. But I wanted to get her top off, too. I reached for her and she skipped away and giggled. This was something I would never have expected from my tomboy best friend. She giggled like a little girl. I got on my knees to beg.

"Yes, please," I answered.

Tami arched her hips while I pulled her panties down. The first thing I noticed was the intoxicating smell of aroused teenaged pussy. I pulled her to me, so I could bury my nose between her legs and get a good smell.

"You're the nasty boy tonight," Tami purred as she ran her fingers in my hair.

"Get naked," I said.

As she removed her blouse and bra I shed my clothes. She could soon see my arousal. I guided her to the bed. We lay side-by-side on the bed, and began to kiss. She rubbed her hands along my side and across my chest while we kissed. I cupped her butt, and held her tightly to my lower body. I ground my cock against her stomach. I released her lips and kissed my way down her neck and chest until I reached her breasts. My kisses turned to sucks and licks, as I pleasured her breasts. Tami didn't like light teasing. She much preferred more direct contact. She squirmed when I sucked her nipple into my mouth, and teased it with my tongue.

"Oh, David, just like that," she said as she directed my head where she wanted it.

I took my time as I played with her tits. I could tell she was getting hot and bothered because I could taste the saltiness of her perspiration. I loved the whiteness of her breasts as opposed to her tanned body. It was like a homing signal drawing my lips. She began to squirm when I began to kiss her stomach as I worked my way down to her arousal.

I ran my tongue gently up and down her sex. I got the taste of her saltiness, and the first secretions from her arousal. Her legs seemed to spread wider of their own volition. I licked up and down, spreading saliva and her juices around everything. She had become a slick mess. I pushed my tongue between her folds and found the source of her leak. I tried to plug it with my tongue. She pushed my head back with the palm of her hand, but I rimmed her little hole, which made her moan.

This was different than when we had sex in my apartment. I had been worried about what could go wrong, and how my emotions were still a mess. This time I accepted that this was just sex. Tami and I had been apart for almost a year. During that time I had gained more experience. I planned on rocking her world.

I allowed my tongue to travel north as I split her center. When I found the edge of her clit, I rapidly swiped my tongue back and forth three times and then backed off. I paused a moment and then gave her three more pulses. I repeated the process.

"What are you doing?" she asked, and then moaned as I did three more swipes just on the edge of her clit.

Swipe, swipe, swipe ... pause. Swipe, swipe, swipe ... pause. Swipe, swipe, swipe ... pause.

I watched as my rhythm started to drive her crazy.

Swipe, swipe, swipe ... pause. Swipe, swipe, swipe ... pause. Swipe, swipe, swipe ... pause.

She pulled her legs up so her knees were touching her breasts.

Swipe, swipe, swipe ... pause. Swipe, swipe, swipe ... pause. Swipe, swipe, swipe ... pause.

"Oh God. Oh God! OH GOD!"

She had a mini-orgasm. She looked down at me, and I gave her an evil grin.

"Oh, shit!" she worried.

I used my fingers to pry open her outer lips. I slid my tongue down and found her opening. I did my best Gene Simmons, and snaked the tip of my tongue as deep as I could bury it. Her lips were swelling and her sex opened up for me. I loved the sight as a woman became aroused. It gave me a sense of accomplishment. I used the same rhythm as I thrust my tongue into her liquid center.

Thrust, thrust, thrust ... pause. Thrust, thrust, thrust ... pause. Thrust, thrust, thrust ... pause.

"Are you getting close?" I asked.

"Shit! Don't stop!" she complained.

I tongue fucked her until she began to moan. Then I went back and teased around her clit.

Swipe, swipe, swipe ... pause. Swipe, swipe, swipe ... pause. Swipe, swipe, swipe ... pause.

Thrust, thrust, thrust ... pause. Thrust, thrust, thrust ... pause. Thrust, thrust, thrust ... pause.

Swipe, swipe, swipe ... pause. Swipe, swipe, swipe ... pause. Swipe, swipe, swipe ... pause.

I then pushed two of my long thick fingers into her slick velvety depths. I found her G-spot and began to use the same rhythm.

Rub, rub, rub ... pause. Swipe, swipe, swipe ... pause. Rub, rub, rub ... pause.

Her clitoris finally came out of hiding. I changed my tongue action to circle her now exposed clit.

Circle, circle, circle ... pause. Rub, rub, rub ... pause. Circle, circle, circle ... pause.

I pressed my two fingers more firmly against her G-spot and massaged.

"Ooohhh ... OOOHHHH ... YES!"

I sucked her clitoris right into my mouth.

Rub, rub, rub ... pause. Swipe, swipe, swipe ... pause. Suck, suck, suck ... pause.

I barely started to suck her clit when Tami lost her mind.

"Ooohhh ... Ooohhhh ... DAAVVIIDD!"

She about broke my nose as she slammed her hips up against my face. I felt her tremors around my fingers as she came. I licked and sucked her through her orgasm. I sat back on my heels and watched her in the throes of her ecstasy. Tami had never been more beautiful to me as she was in that moment.

I withdrew my fingers and stretched out on the bed so my head was even with hers while she calmed down from her orgasm. I give Tami a quick kiss on the cheek.

"How was that?" I asked

"I think someone needs their ego stroked, but after that performance, I'm willing to stroke away," she said as she made her point by grasping my member as she gave it a tug.

"I'm glad you feel the need to stroke me."

Tami let go and rolled on top of me, so she could soundly kiss me. Our lips met and I felt her tongue press against my lips. I opened wide and our tongues danced against each other. We spent some relaxing time just making out. Tami reclaimed her grip on Mr. Happy. I groaned into her mouth as she took me in hand, and massaged my phallus. She lifted her leg over my body and released my member. She ground her sex against my cock and began to slide up and down my length.

She pulled away enough, so we were no longer kissing, and she could look me in the eyes. By the mischievous look in her eyes I could tell she was trying to make me cum. I solved that as I grabbed her hips, and slide down until I found her opening, and then I thrust forward. Our bodies came together naturally. Tami gave a little grunt when I filled her.

She clamped down on my length, and it was my time to groan. This was something new. I wondered who taught her this little technique. Apparently I wasn't the only one who had gained some experience over the last year. I felt my balls begin to tighten.

"Slow down, or I'm going to cum," I warned her.

"If I remember correctly, you stay hard after your first cum."

She didn't relent. Two could play this game. I reached between us and found her clit. I teased her little nubbin until I saw her chest and neck flush. She was on the edge of a big one. I held off as long as I could, but I beat her to the finish, and began to coat her depths with my seed. I nipped her nipple that swung in my face and she joined me in our release.

I flopped back and tried to catch my breath. Tami recovered before I did, and began to ride my willing rod. Damn she felt good.

"We need to talk," Tami said as she rode me.

"What the hell, Tami. You know you can talk me into anything when you are doing this to me," I complained.

She used her muscles to clamp down. I sucked in my breath, and knew I was a goner.

"You were right," she started.

Did she say I was right? Oh crap, I was in for it. A woman never starts a conversation by telling her man that he is right, unless she wanted a much bigger payoff ... or worse, explained why you were wrong. If she hadn't had me pinned to the bed, and doing wonderful things to me, I would have run.

"Sex wasn't the best idea for the two of us. When I'm with you like this, all I want to do is love you. I can't imagine not being with you as a couple. I start imagining things I'm not ready for yet. We just can't do that right now. What I do know is we will be a couple someday, and you will marry me. I love you David with all my heart, but you can't be my everything, right now," she said as tears began to stream down her cheeks.

"I tried so hard to keep you out of my heart," I confessed. "But over the last several weeks you have wormed your way back in. Stay with me, and don't go to Wesleyan this fall. Let's see if we can find you classes at State you can take. Let's quit dancing around this thing, and do what is in our hearts. You're the only one for me, and this time I plan on fighting for you."

She buried her face in my chest and sobbed. When she finally stopped crying, she wiped her tears and smiled at me.

"Do you mean that?"

"Tami, you know me better than anyone. I'm serious about this. You love me, and I love you. I know we are only seventeen, but I can't imagine ever loving anyone else like I love you right now. You have always been the love of my life."

"Would you be willing to go to Wesleyan?" she asked.

If she had asked me that question last summer, the answer would have been yes. The problem was I had made commitments to my teammates. They had helped me prepare for the Elite 11 camp without me asking. I couldn't walk away from what I had started here. Heck, my Dad, Tom, Coach Hope and Mrs. Sullivan had worked together to improve the facilities at Lincoln High, in a large part it was all because of what I had started.

As I thought it through, she gave me a smile. In many ways, she had made a similar commitment to Teddy Wesleyan. He had started the scholarship, and she was his first recipient. Because of her contacts with the school, she had found out about the fellowship and been given her opportunity to study in the UK. How could I ask her not to get the best possible education she could?

I knew in my heart she was right. A year ago I wasn't able to let her go, but now I could. She saw it in my eyes, and her bottom lip began to quiver. She knew we were back to being friends, and only friends. I suddenly realized Mr. Happy knew it, too, and had gone soft. I pulled out of her.

"Yes, the sex has to stop. It is too easy for me to fall in love with you," I said. "I love you enough to be your best friend. I want what is best for you, and right now that is being only your friend."

"David, can you leave? I just need to be alone right now. Please don't think I am rejecting you," Tami begged.

"I understand. I think I need some time alone, too."

I got dressed and left her staring at the ceiling. The image of her naked body would be seared into my brain for the rest of my life. She really was the most beautiful woman in my world.

Thursday July 9

This morning, some of the best high school receivers in the nation arrived on the Nike campus. We were all going to be tested this morning. We all did drills: Vertical Jump, 40 Yard Dash, Power Ball Toss, and Agility Shuttle. They used the results to create a SPARQ score. It was an acronym for Speed, Power, Agility, Reaction and Quickness. What it didn't tell us was if they were good football players, or not.

Once the scores were announced, we would all go to lunch, and then have our draft. They were going to let us pick four players to join our team, and then they would assign us the rest. Flee and I would get to go first, and pick our top eight. Then they would draw names and the other quarterbacks would pick theirs.

As soon as the scores were posted, Bo and I went to lunch. One receiver's SPARQ score was 144, a good eleven points higher than the next closest receiver. He was six-six, and I swear, he looked like a young Randy Moss. I hoped to win the coin toss and pick him. If he was anything like Randy Moss I would win the tournament easily. The scores ranged from 96 to 144 with the majority in the 105 to 125 range.

David's SPARQ Score:
- Height: (6'4")
- Weight: (208 lbs.)
- Vertical Jump: (39.7") Vertical jump height and body weight are factored together to assess your peak power.
- 40 Yard Dash: (4.69) A measure of off-the-mark quickness and transition to top speed.
- Power Ball Toss: (38') A test designed to measure the ability to develop and deliver coordinated power.
- Agility Shuttle: (4.2) A drill demanding split second changes of posture, direction and speed.
- SPARQ: (120.97)

My score was the top one for quarterbacks, followed closely by Flee. Bo had full access to a couple of the recruiting services. He pulled up the Randy Moss look-a-like. We both read his profile.

'Damion Roth has a very high ceiling with the right coaching. Physically he has the attributes to be a dominant player. Has yet to learn to separate himself from defensive backs, and has average hands.'

"Dang it," I said.

"Keep this to yourself," Bo said.

"I bet you Flee would let me pick two or three times, to get Damion first. Do you think I should go make a deal with him?" I asked.

"Go see what you can do. I'll match up the top guys on the recruiting site with their SPARQ scores, while you do that."

I went and found Flee.

"Want to guarantee you get the top guy?" I asked.

He and his dad were going over the list.

"What did you have in mind?" his dad asked.

"I trade you the rights to Damion Roth for letting me have all my picks next."

"I don't know if he is worth letting you pick the next four," Flee said.

"He is eleven points higher than the next best guy. He runs like a gazelle, and can out jump anyone here. You need every edge you can get," I said.

"What if I get the first pick?"

"Are you willing to let me pick him if I get it?" I asked.

He looked at his dad, and got the okay. I waived Coach Trent over.

"We have a trade," I said.

He looked at us and shook his head.

"Let's hear it," Coach Trent said.

"I get Damion Roth, and David gets the next four picks," Flee said.

"I hope you didn't make a mistake," Coach Trent said.

He didn't say which one of us should be worried. He just had an amused expression on his face. I hurried back to Bo to see what he had figured out. I found my Dad, Greg and Tami going over the lists. I also found some of the receivers hanging around.

"Take these guys out and throw to them," Tami said.

I went out and threw to the six guys Bo had selected. Five of them were good, very good. The last guy was perfectly fine, but not the same caliber as the others. As I talked to them, I found out one of the receivers was a teammate Wes's high school team. He also planned on going to Alabama with him when they graduated. I knew for sure he was going to be on my team! I wasn't going to give Wes his favorite receiver in the seven-on-seven competition.

I came in and told everyone what I had found out. Tami handed me a list. It had four names on it and it matched what I had found out. So I had my picks. I made a copy for Flee so he could pick his and took a copy to Coach Trent. Coach Trent took a look at the list and shook his head, but didn't say anything. He showed it to my coach, Coach Allen, and he got a big smile on his face.