“This is actually my first chance this summer to really play some football. Of course, I expect I’ll be a little rusty, but I hope it comes back quickly. I want to show the University of Michigan coaching staff that they made a good choice when they made me an offer to play for them. I would hate to let them or Lincoln High down with a poor showing,” I admitted.
“You haven’t participated in any football activities? None at all?” Jeff asked.
“Very few. I’ve thrown the ball a few times in the summer practices that Lincoln has had. But that’s nothing like last year when I attended several football camps and was Co-MVP of Elite 11.”
“Why didn’t you go back and defend your title?”
“I got the USA Baseball opportunity. Very few people get to represent their country against international competition. I also wanted to see how I stacked up against the best baseball has to offer, just like I did last year with football.”
“No one could argue with that,” Jeff said.
That told me people had done exactly that. I was sure they’d questioned my commitment to football. My competitive juices began to flow.
Jeff wrapped up the interview so I could go sign in for the camp.
◊◊◊
They had the registration in the Field House, and it was a zoo. A lot of the area’s better football players were present, along with almost all of Lincoln High’s team. Our coaching staff was manning the desks. There was a sign that said ‘A-F,’ and I assumed that was the first letter of your last name, and so got into that line.
Mike Herndon was in the next line over. I thought he was awful brave to show up for a camp here. Some people here might kick his butt on sight, me included. This day was just getting more fun by the minute.
When I got to the front of the line, Moose was there behind the desk.
“Name?”
“Uhm … David Dawson,” I said, with a little amusement.
He sorted through the packets and then looked up at me.
“I don’t have a David Dawson registered. Did you forget to turn in your application?” he asked.
“I didn’t know I had to,” I admitted. “I’ve been a little busy this summer.”
“This camp is sold out. I’m sorry, but you’ll just have to come back next year.”
I knew he was pulling my chain, but this might be the out I could use to not have to do reality TV all week. Of course, a camera was trained on me, so I wasn’t able to tell Moose what I really thought of his little drama.
“Dumbass,” Mike said from the other line.
Well, now, that put a completely different light on the situation. I ignored Mike and looked at the shirt Moose had on. It was a University of Michigan polo shirt with ‘Moose’ on the left breast.
“Mr. Moose, is there someone I could talk to about possibly getting in?” I asked.
He looked irritated and told me to stand off to the side so he could get everyone else signed in. Mike was right; I looked like a dumbass, standing there clueless. I was sure it would make great TV.
After standing there for five minutes, I stepped back up to Moose.
“Did the TV people put you up to this?” I asked.
Moose had the grace to look embarrassed.
“You do realize they’re doing this to create a little drama by embarrassing the hell out of me, don’t you? You might want to go find Coach Haber because that’s not what I came here for, and it’s not what I’ll stay here for.” I said it softly so the camera wouldn’t pick it up.
“I just wanted to let you know I’m taking off,” I said loud enough for them to hear, and walked away.
The weight room beckoned me. I figured if I was already here, I might as well go work out. A couple of the wrestlers were already there, so I worked out with them. I knew something was up when the camera crew showed up. I turned to them.
“Gentlemen, I’m sorry, but I can’t allow you in here right now,” I said with as much of a smile as I could muster.
“We’re just doing our job,” the cameraman said.
He tried but failed to hide the smirk on his face. The wrestlers who were working out all got up and stepped towards the cameraman.
“They didn’t sign up to be filmed,” I observed.
He must have thought better of it and left.
“While I appreciate the assist, next time, let me handle it,” I told them.
“Sure thing. If you ever need us, we have your back.”
Five minutes later, Coach Haber came in, followed by the cameras.
“Coach Haber!” I called out. “Did you know I’m not allowed to participate in your football camp?”
“Hang on, what’s going on?” Coach Haber said with genuine concern.
I turned to the videographers, who were still filming.
“Alright, I told you before not to film me. I would suggest that you leave now,” I said with a smile.
Coach Haber understood that our conversation didn’t need to be made public and kicked them out.
“I didn’t come to this camp to get jerked around and have the sports media provoke me into making an ass of myself. Nor did I volunteer to be on a reality show where they manufacture drama. If that’s what the rest of the week is going to be about, you can count me out!” I said with a little more heat than I planned.
