Junior Year Box Set

Coach Jackson interrupted our lovefest, and he and the two coaches that had been working with me sat down and talked. They explained their offensive philosophy of keeping the offense simple but making it appear more complicated to the defense. They wanted to probe the defense to see how they would react to different situations and plays. Coach Jackson felt his pro-style offense was already showing up in the NFL. He didn’t believe in running his quarterback but felt with my mobility I would add a dimension that forced the defense to account for me.

I got to know Coach Jackson better; he was a nice quiet guy. I wondered if Stanford would be able to keep him, or if he would eventually move up to the pros. By the time we were done, I was more comfortable with him and was the recipient of an offer of a scholarship to play football for Stanford.

On the ride back to the hotel, Jim and I compared notes.

“Did you get an offer?” I asked.

“No, they need to check to make sure I can get in,” Jim said.

“I’d think they’d have all the information worked out by now,” I reasoned.

“I think they have some other linemen they want to look at before they make me an offer. While they liked how I moved, and my potential, they consider me a project because I’m only 250 pounds. I’ll need to add 40 to 60 pounds to my frame; they told me if I redshirted, I’d have a chance to play after a year of bulking up.

“Did they make you an offer after you had words with their coach?” Jim asked.

“We just got off on the wrong foot. I hate it when people show up late.”

“It’s one of my pet peeves, too. I’m okay with a couple of minutes, but they were nearly a half-hour late. Did they ever tell you what hung them up?”

“No, just some lame excuse about other commitments. It tells you that you aren’t a priority. Almost makes you want to play for the competition and show them that we were a priority.”

“Bill does brag about the weather and the women at USC,” Jim said.

“I hear that, but did you see what the USC coach said? The media reports said he was drunk when he said Oregon and others had worn ‘fancy pants’ uniforms at the Pac-12 media day. Hollywood Central said his wife had filed for divorce. It sounds like he has some off-the-field issues going on.”

“Bill told me it was worse than that. He said the athletic director had to pull the coach off stage. I guess the coach said that they were f-ing ready to fight, and followed it up by saying Oregon, Notre Dame, and Arizona State all sucked,” Jim said.

“What does Bill think about it?”

“He said that Coach Sterns had to apologize, and they all think he’s on double secret probation right now. Bill said he hasn’t seen him be anything but professional. Right now, they’re laser-focused on the mighty Arkansas State Red Wolves. Bill said they should win by about ten touchdowns.”

“Maybe not that much, but that does sound like an easy one for their first game. I bet Bill gets on the field for that one.”

“He’s working his way up the depth chart. He should play a lot this year,” Jim predicted.

We got back to the hotel to shower and get ready for the evening activities. Jim and I planned to hook up with the rest of the recruits for dinner and festivities afterward. Brandon told me that Tami and Alan were going with him to a party Suzanne had told them about. I made sure Brandon understood that I expected him to keep an eye out for my friends. While I wanted them to have fun, I wanted to make sure they were safe.

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We walked from Ryan Field to Lou Malnati’s Pizzeria. The guys had waited on us after the tour of the campus. I felt like a hypocrite because I’d just bitched about Stanford being late, but no one had set a time for us to go to dinner. Then I remembered that I’d agreed to pick up the tab for the Lincoln guys, and Brandon would figure out what everyone owed when we got back. That would make them want to wait since they were broke high school kids.

The walk gave me a chance to get a better feel for Evanston. It definitely was not my little town. Instead of all single-family homes, there were many multistory apartment and condominium complexes. The single-family homes didn’t seem to have much in the way of yards, either. Like Lincoln Park, where Harper lived, it felt like the people were generally either college students or young professionals. I could see the attraction of living here before you had kids. Duke would both love it and hate it. He would enjoy meeting all the people but would hate that he had to be put on a leash. It would be the same way with kids. We would have to put Kyle and Mac on leashes to keep them out of the street.

On the way over to the pizza place, my guys hung back so Jim and I could fill them in on our experience with Stanford and the other guys could tell us about their tour of Northwestern. Flee and Ben joined our group. I was glad to see Gus, our chaperone, was talking to his teammates.

“Did you get offers?” Ty asked.

“Did you talk to Northwestern already?” Ben asked.