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Mutual Hatred - Love Game Page 2
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Shelley's tone softened. "No, not yet. But if he pisses me off enough I just might."
"But that's abusing your privileges as coach," he protested, "You can't hold a grudge against him just because you don't like him! That's not fair!"
"Nobody said I had to be fair."
"But we need him!" he persisted.
"If he's gone you guys are all going to step up your game and you'll realize you don't need him," Shelley argued, "You guys don't reach your full potential because of Brandon. No one wants to take his spotlight because none of you want to face his wrath. But what can he do if the whole team is against him?"
"That's the thing, Shells. Half the team supports him."
"What about the rest of you losers?"
"They don't want to face his wrath for being against him!"
Shelley rolled her eyes. "He's only eighteen years old. What could he possibly do to you?"
Kyle shrugged. "I don't know. But go a little easy on him, will you? He's not used to having girls stand up to him, especially you."
"You're absolutely right, Kyle my man. And it's not going to happen again," cut in the man of the moment, Brandon.
"I wouldn't count on it. As long as I'm around, you'll be doing what I tell you. I'm not taking any of your bullshit, so get used to it," Shelley retorted.
"It's my team, my rules," he replied defiantly.
Shelley scoffed, "Your team? Excuse me; half of the team only worships you because they don't want to get on your bad side. The other half just doesn't want to say anything!"
"Hey, maybe you guys should cool it-" interrupted Kyle.
"-Shut up, Stanford! I thought it was bros over hoes; now you're taking her side?" Brandon said angrily.
"I'm not taking anyone's side!" Kyle said impatiently, "It's just that you guys are going to be working together for the next few months whether you like it or not, so maybe we should just try to set aside our differences."
"You'd be a great addition to the Peace Corps," Shelley said sarcastically, "But seriously, stay out of this unless you want to get hit in the crossfire. This is between me and Mr. High-and-Mighty here."
"I'm high and mighty? I'M high and mighty?!? You're the one who talks like you own this damn team and it's only your first day!" Brandon yelled.
"Actually, you're getting me confused with yourself. It's not my team any more than it is yours."
"Then stop acting like it is!"
"Oh both of you quit your whining and grow up. This is football practice, not a screaming match. Save it for after hours," said Coach Wise.
Brandon and Shelley mumbled their apologies and practice finally proceeded. Wise instructed the boys to do one of their drills and left Brandon in charge.
"I'm sorry about Brandon's attitude. Normally he's a very nice person. Just give him time," said the coach, "But I'm a little disappointed in you also."
Shelley's eyes fell to the ground. "I know. I'm sorry; I shouldn't have gotten mad at Brandon. I'm only supposed to be watching today, not getting into arguments. I was planning on saving the yelling for another day."
"It's alright. I heard some of that; he was a bit of an asshole there. It'll be like that for awhile until they begin to accept you."
Shelley merely nodded in agreement, which prodded Mr. Wise to continue.
"Now I left Brandon in charge so I could talk to you about training schedule. These first two weeks are just mild conditioning, but after that it'll be a lot tougher. I'd like to have practice in the mornings from seven to ten, before it gets too hot during the day. Otherwise they all start complaining like a bunch of sissy girls. And I know this is short notice, but I'd like you to give the guys a pep talk tomorrow. When I asked you to help, I didn't tell you the whole truth. You'll actually be doing most of the work this season, not just helping."
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"I haven't told the boys yet, but this is my last year coaching; I'm retiring. Frankly, I'm too old to do this. I'm almost sixty years old and I don't have the same amount of energy that I did these past years. We've been getting worse because my heart hasn't been in it. I'm too easy on them; they don't work hard enough."
"I won't be doing all the work, right? I mean, Coach Johnson and Coach Wess are coaching too, right?"
"Of course they are. You didn't honestly think I'd make you responsible for everything, did you? Johnson will be doing defense and Wess will cover offense. You're going to be helping me oversee this team as head coach. I want my last year to end with a bang-a good, big one mind you. We're going to win this year. I can feel it!" he proclaimed.
Shelley couldn't contain a smile. "We won't let you down, Coach Wise."
"I believe that. And Shelley? The ball is in your hands. Feel free to take it and run with it."
What exactly was he trying to say? "Are you trying to say that I can make whatever changes I want?"
"As long as they're logical, yes. I'd prefer it if you didn't change the lineup or their positions. I think the boys are all comfortable with the position they're playing. Other than that, I give you free reign under my watch."
They walked around; Shelley observed and took notes on changes she wanted to make. Wise gave them a break as Shelley felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She whipped it out and checked the caller id. It was Taryn Manuel, her best friend.
"Hey, what's up?" Shelley said gaily
"I should be asking you that. How's the football team?" asked Taryn's bubbly voice.
"It's okay, really. Tomorrow I think I'll yell at them because I feel like it."
There was a pause before Taryn finally said, "Why?"
"Because I feel like it. Do I need a good reason?" Shelley said sourly.
"I guess not," Taryn said uncertainly. "But seriously Shelley. What's it like working with all those guys? Do they practice with their shirts off?"
Shelley laughed. "Not yet. And it's not exactly a dream job, Tare. It's weird being around all this testosterone."
"What about Brandon Miller? I swear, he's beautiful!" Taryn gushed.
"He'd be offended that you called him beautiful, Tare."
"But it's the truth! Have you seen that chin? It's the George Clooney chin! And you know I'm a chin woman!" wailed Taryn.
Shelley laughed. "He may be good-looking but his personality positively reeks. He needs an attitude adjustment."
"Don't tell me you got into a fight with him!"
"He started it!" Shelley said defensively.
"Do you realize how immature that sounds? Spill. What did he say to you?"
"Apparently he's not happy that a girl is coaching. He thinks girls and football don't belong in the same sentence. And then he went as far as to threaten me. Watch my back my ass!" she complained.
"That's it? You're angry at him over that? Oh my god, you do not deserve to be within a hundred feet of him!"
Shelley undid her ponytail and said, "Unlike you, the fact that he actually spoke to me doesn't make me feel special. In fact, I wish he'd keep his mouth shut."
"But he's like one of the most popular people at school! He could easily turn the whole population against you! If you've made enemies with Brandon Miller you've made enemies with his friends, teammates, and groupies!"
"That's not the whole school. I think half the team despises him because of his arrogance. Maybe the other half actually likes him. But he's a jerk. And a lot of girls at school already hate him. I mean, he's already been through most of them. He's not one of those people who is popular because they're likeable. He's only well known because he's a star athlete. I've got most of the student population on my side, if anything."
"I don't know…You do realize he's going to be on the team for the next seven months and you're going to have to work with him, don't you?" Taryn sounded worried this time.
"I say bring it on. I'm not afraid of him," Shelley repeated.
"I'd still watch out. I'm positive that if Brandon Miller tells you something, he means it."
&nb
sp; "Not if he wants to keep his place on the team," Shelley said flatly.
"You wouldn't actually try to get him kicked off would you?" Taryn asked sharply.
Shelley was exasperated. What was with this guy? "Why is everyone worried that I'll try to get him kicked off? It's just Brandon Miller!"
"Right. Well I'll talk to you later when you're not in a bad mood. Call me!" There was a click and then dial tone. Shelley shoved her cell phone and into her pocket and went to talk to Coach Wise.
"Mr. Wise, I am so incredibly sorry but I have a terrible headache and I think I should go home."
Mr. Wise merely nodded and said, "Feel better tomorrow. Will you be up to giving that pep talk?"
"I'm sure I will. Same time tomorrow?"
"Of course. Get some rest and take some drugs for that headache! The over-the-counter kind, mind you. I can't have anyone on this team doing that heroin or ecstasy stuff."
Shelley smiled and slowly walked to her car. As she passed the boys, she heard Brandon say triumphantly,
"Hah, what a girl; she already has a headache. I give her two days until she goes insane and quits on us."
A few boys snickered and agreed. Shelley acted as if she hadn't heard this remark. All she wanted to do was go home and sleep. Arguing with Brandon had her beat, and practice wasn't even over yet!
- - - - -
The next day Shelley was a completely new person. She was determined not to let Brandon piss her off. What made her day even better was that he wasn't even there when she showed up for practice. Hallelujah! After sleeping until 2 in the afternoon yesterday, Shelley had worked late into the night preparing her pep talk. She wanted to show that she was serious about football and that she meant business.
And boy oh boy, those guys were in for a major pep talk. Shelley could give pep talks like nobody's business.
Coach Wise greeted Shelley and said, "Ah, the boys are in the locker room. I suppose I'll give you locker room privileges, since you're coach and all. But make sure they're all decent before you go in, alright?"
"Like I'd risk my eyesight by barging in while they're showering," she replied.
"I should imagine you'd be horrified," he joked.
The moment Mr. Wise opened the door to the locker room, there was complete silence. Cue crickets chirping. Yes, that quiet.
And the sad thing was that Shelley immediately knew they had been talking about her.
Jerks.
"Gather round, everyone," Wise said in his booming voice, "Today we're going to hear a motivational speech from Coach Sinclair because I think you're tired of hearing mine year after year. Pay attention and no talking Watkins! Right, well you can start whenever you want, Shelley."
Shelley nervously smiled at no one in particular. What the hell have I gotten myself into?Pull yourself together, Sinclair. You own these boys. They're yours for the next 6 months. That's right...
"A team plays like it practices," she began, "If a team practices soft, it will play soft; if it practices hard, it will play hard. Good practices begin with good attitudes. They also involve good contact and strenuous conditioning. I have zero tolerance for people who disrespect their teammates or myself-"
She was interrupted by Brandon, who swaggered in late. He offered her a lazy grin as he took his seat, which only infuriated her.
"And it's known that my tolerance for people who are late is NONEXISTENT," she said, glaring at Brandon. "You guys are good, I'll give you that. But you're not great - and that's what we need to be if you want to win this year. Maybe this is only a game to you, but it's a serious matter to me. So if you're not willing to work hard so we can actually win this year, you can damn well leave right now. Save yourself from hearing the rest of my speech."
She paused as if expecting people to get up and leave. But no one did. She had their attention now.
"Good. So by still sitting here you're signing your life over to me right now. Practice is only going to get harder for you guys. I've worked out a training schedule for each day every week that we're going to follow. Your life is going to be an absolute living hell because how you play reflects what we've done at practices and what you've been taught. If you guys screw up on the field, then somewhere along the way I screwed up. We're going to win this year. No dicking around playing your half assed version of football. We're going to show those other schools that we can still dominate. Remember who you are and what you represent. You're a Wildcat and you represent Wilson High School. In the words of Rockne from his 1928 Notre Dame-Army speech, 'If we get ourselves keyed up to a point, and when we're confident of that ... the results will take care of themselves.' I know you guys can perform. We're the underdogs, but with enough practice and motivation, we can be everyone's worst nightmare. Behind by 30 or ahead by 30 ... we'll come after any team with the same degree of intensity because a team that won't let itself be beaten, cannot be beaten. You with me on that?"
A hearty cheer went up. Shelley felt like maybe she'd actually connected with them. Her speech hadn't been spectacular, but she'd put a lot of heart in it. Normally pep talks were corny, but they were the kind of things that got her fired up.
"This year we fucking rip those other schools into shreds!" yelled Brandon.
And everyone circled up around him and cheered.
Ah, what a Kodak moment.
Chapter 3 – Because I Can
* * *
After her pep talk, Shelley wanted to put the boys to work right away. Several complained, but Shelley reminded them,
"You should have left when I gave you the chance. Now it's too late!"
The boys could have sworn she cackled after saying that. Or maybe they were just delusional.
Shelley started off by leading stretches. After that she had them run laps around the field. The boys were surprised when she started running with them.
"What kind of team would we be if your coach didn't run with you?" she asked.
And after laps she made them run up and down the bleachers.
"Purely for my entertainment," she explained with a trace of laughter in her voice.
When the team finally finished and was sitting on the ground in an exhausted heap, Shelley told them their official training schedule.
"Mondays we'll be conditioning, then forty-five minutes in the weight room, and maybe a quick scrimmage if you're up to it. Tuesdays we'll break into position drills, special teams, and work on offensive inference. On Wednesdays we'll do more conditioning, spend some more time in the weight room, and work on defensive inference. Thursdays we'll focus on special teams. And on Fridays we scrimmage," she rattled off.
"Why are you doing this to us?" groaned Alex Taylor.
Shelley smiled and simply said, "Because I can."
"But whyyyyy?" he whined.
"Do you want to win this year or not? Besides, that was just the general outline. I've specified certain drills for each position. We're going to work on improving everything."
"You're killing us, Shelley!" exclaimed Kyle.
"I would never ask anything of you guys that I didn't think you could do. I already told you, I know you guys can be much better than what you are now. I'm going to give everyone one last chance to get out. After this, there is absolutely no turning back," she said firmly.
No one left, nor did Shelley expect anyone to leave. She nodded in approval.
"I thought so. Mr. Johnson and Mr. Wess have been informed of this schedule. They'll be here three of our five practice days this summer and during the year they'll be here every day. I will be working closely with Mr. Wess on offense so we can plan our attacks. We're gonna nail their asses!"
And then all hell broke loose. Figuratively, not literally, of course. According to Shelley, hell was when boys, or people in general, started cursing ever other word. That was exactly what the boys were doing. Take James Watkins for example.
"Fuck yeah, bitch! We're gonna fucking fuck them up so fucking bad. Mothafuckas!"
Yeah, they
were going to have to clean up their language, among other things, Shelley decided.
"James, go wash your mouth out with soap," she said irritably.
"Wha?" he asked dumbly.
"Your language. That goes for everyone else too. When I say we're going to clean things up, I mean it. We're cleaning up your game, your attitude, and your vocabulary. Maybe you're used to the rate you cuss at, but I'm not and it's going to stop. What girl is going to want to kiss someone with such a dirty mouth?" she said.
Everyone stared at her blankly. It was like she spoke another language!
"Stop the curse words. It's okay if you say it occasionally, like I do. But if I hear excessive cussing, it's going to be laps or bleachers for you. Keep it to a minimum!"
"But we were just getting our hype up!" Kyle said defensively, "Don't you want us to be energetic about this?"
"You can be energetic without the cuss words. And that comes from experience," she answered coolly, "After all; I was a 'bouncy cheerleader' as some of you have so kindly keep reminding me."
Awkward silence. Shelley was starting to get the feeling that she intimidated some of the boys. Good, she thought, That's the way it should be.
"You don't have to be a bitch about everything. We want to win, but we want to have fun too," Brandon spoke up. For once he looked a little nervous. Did he think she'd slap him or something? Hah, maybe she should.
"I'm a bitch?" she asked icily.
Something in her tone made Brandon regret saying that. "Well, uh, yeah."
"You're going to have to come up with better names for me than that, sweetie pie."
Shelley was unnervingly calm about Brandon calling her a bitch. He suspected that she was plotting something, but he had no idea what. He just knew that it was the only thing keeping her from yelling at him again.
"I mean that in the nicest way possible though," he said hastily, hoping she'd forget whatever she was planning.
Too late.
"Four laps around the field. You have seven minutes," she said, not even looking at him.