Chapter 38

Phil
Lunch at David’s had been excellent. He’d been in touch with all the guys USC was recruiting, and the ones who were attending the camp had shown up. Phil was glad his brother had arranged it because it gave many guys with similar interests—specifically football players wanting to receive college offers—a chance to get together and talk about it.

After lunch, David walked them all over to the John McKay Center to get signed in. They had a couple of hours until their first scheduled activity, so David invited a few of them to run drills. Bud Mason joined them.

“That’s a horrible release, 21. Horrible. Not average. Not bad. Horrible,” Coach Mason barked at Colt Macklin.

David and Phil both chuckled because Colt was supposed to be the best high school quarterback prospect in the nation, regardless of class. Leave it to Coach Mason to bring him back to earth. Phil had watched Coach Mason do even worse to his older brother. A clipboard would soon follow if Colt wasn’t careful.

On cue, it went flying.

“Get out of here! Go talk to David,” Coach Mason barked, then turned his eyes to Phil.

’Oh, crap! He’s in a mood,’ Phil thought.

All eyes were on him, and he promptly overthrew his receiver.

“Get your elbow up and throw the ball! What did you do when you were a kid? Play video games?” Coach Mason asked.

“Hang on, Coach. They’re both making the same mistake,” David interrupted.

“Really? Care to demonstrate?” Coach Mason asked.

Phil watched his brother confidently take the snap and drill the receiver.

“Did you watch my feet? You’re both on your toes like you should be and moving in the pocket. What’s happening is you take this micro-step as you aim the ball. That causes you to get under it, and it sails on you. Besides overthrowing your receiver, you’re cutting down your velocity, making it easier for a defender to intercept,” David explained.

“Do it again,” Coach Mason told him.

Phil and Colt watched as David’s next throw all but knocked the receiver down. This pass called for some heat because it was a bang-bang type of play. The receiver was slipping between the corner and the outside linebacker, so there was a tight throwing window. A split second would be the difference between a pick-six and your team scoring.

“Instead of taking a little hop, he planted his foot and ripped it,” Coach Mason pointed out. “They don’t tell you to aim a football; you throw it.”

“Honestly, I found that habit one of the hardest to break. It’s a subtle change, but it’s the small stuff that determines whether you’re the starter or riding the bench,” David shared.

It made Phil feel better when he heard his brother had the same problem when he was younger.

Colt went next. He concentrated on his footwork, which caused his release to be a bit slower, but the ball didn’t sail. The corner all but got there, though.

Phil remembered his brother obsessing over details like his release point. David had understood that the difference in talent level was much closer at higher stages of football. Coach Mason was fond of saying, “Make yourself do it right. Don’t be talking about what we’re going to do, do it!” This was one of those ‘aha’ moments when what you’ve heard over and over again suddenly made sense.

“I can’t stand it! Run it again!” Coach Mason yelled.

“What the fuck was that?” Colt asked as they showered.

“Between Coach Mason and my brother, they didn’t miss even the tiniest detail,” Phil agreed.

The workout had only been an hour and a half, but it felt like the end of a two-a-day. With just the two of them throwing, there had never been a break.

“I feel like I might not be good enough to play JV ball, let alone varsity.”

Phil chuckled because he could relate.

The first item on the football camp’s agenda was a welcome from USC’s head man, Coach Clayton. They used USC’s team meeting room. Phil noted that Colt sat in the front, so he joined him. He’d planned to hide in the back, but his uncle had told him to surround himself with successful people. That also meant he should watch what they did because there was a reason they were successful. Hiding in the back wouldn’t help him accomplish either aspect of his uncle’s advice.

As the coaches walked in, someone’s cell phone rang, making everyone laugh. Coach Clayton wasn’t amused.

“There are no cell phones out on the field or when you’re supposed to be engaged in football-related activities. So, turn it off, and when you all leave this meeting, go put them in your rooms. The next phone I hear, that person will be going home.”

When the coach was sure he had their attention, he continued.

“And another thing: if you want to have a conversation, do it face-to-face. I see all of you with your noses buried in your phones. Because of social media, you get a lot of self-gratification from the communication you have without having to look someone in the eye and without developing a relationship with them. I think that’s a critical skill players need to develop if they expect to build a team,” Coach Clayton added.

’Wow, he’s grumpy. I wonder how David can deal with his antiquated ideas?’ Phil thought.

“Who cares about how many likes you get from 2,000 people you don’t even know?” Coach Clayton continued. “There are a hundred-plus guys in the locker room. Those are the hundred that matter.”

That made Phil stop and think. Was that statement something that just sounded good, or was that one of those life lessons he should pay attention to?

“Over the next few days, I need everyone to focus on the task at hand. Work at tempo. Get as many snaps as you can in practice. Go at NASCAR pace because the more we can get done, the more you’ll be able to learn.

“With that in mind, you’re responsible for telling us if you don’t quite get something. I don’t want you moving on to the next drill or teaching session just because you think you should. This camp is for you to learn skills you can take home with you. That doesn’t mean that we might not move on anyway. But we will circle back and work with you one-on-one until you get it,” Coach Clayton promised as he wrapped up his introductory speech.

Next up was a tour of the facilities and a talk about the history of USC football. The Trojans’ record included 39 conference titles, 80 All-Americans, 13 undefeated seasons, 11 national championships, and 62 perfect days. A ‘perfect day’ was when both UCLA and Notre Dame lost.

Colt pointed out that their last national championship was all the way back in 2004. Phil countered that David said they would get one next year and not to bet against his brother because something he consistently did was win.

After the USC dog-and-pony show and seeing the campus, they had a break before dinner, so they went to their rooms. Phil’s roommate was Colt.

“Is your brother hooking us up?” Colt asked a bit overexcitedly.

It amazed Phil that everyone thought David had a stash of willing women on the side that he would give up when his friends needed to get laid. Colt obviously didn’t know David very well. If he did, he would know that David would never share if he cared about the girl.

“He’s taking Crystal out.”

“Damn,” Colt drawled. “She is fine.”

“I think I found us dates,” Phil said to become Colt’s hero.

“Jock bunnies?”

“One of them. I asked if she had a friend for you,” Phil said.

“Hell, yes! College women,” Colt said while doing a fist pump. “I hear they know stuff.”

’Fuck,’ Phil worried.

Colt sounded like his best friends, Yuri and Roc. The two of them were all but clueless when it came to women. If they weren’t both jocks and decent-looking, they would never get laid. Roc was conservative and only willing to do missionary, while Yuri was a male chauvinist. Colt sounded like he was on the immature side.

“Are you prepared? College girls are not going to put up with you if you aren’t ready,” Phil said with a straight face.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you have condoms?”

“Isn’t birth control her problem?” Colt asked.

Phil closed his eyes, bit his tongue, and rubbed his temples before answering.

“I can’t believe I have to tell you this, but a condom is for more than just not getting her pregnant. If she’s been a bit free with the goods, you might catch something, and your dick’ll fall off,” Phil said dramatically.

“You’re bullshitting, right?” Colt asked.

“One time, when I slept with a college girl, David had to take me to get tested. To check, they had this metal rod they had to shove up my piss hole to take a biopsy.”

Saying that was a whole lot funnier than when Phil heard it from David. He now understood the humor.

“Fuck! Seriously?!”

“A condom might suck, but let me tell you, it’s worth it,” Phil said before Colt bailed.

“I might have to swing by a drugstore,” Colt admitted.

“What about lube?” Phil asked next.

“For what?”