“Hey, Hotshot. I seem to recall you flapping your mouth in there, and you said something about beating me in a race,” Hayden said.
He did so in front of his and my teammates.
“I believe the exact quote was that I would beat you ten out of ten times,” I fired back.
That started some good-natured ribbing.
“You can’t let some kid stroll in here and disrespect you.”
“I don’t know. If I were you, I’d be scared.”
I looked around to take it all in. We were in the Everest Training Center, which had a full-sized football field indoors. One of the cool things was that it had LED 40-yard timing devices, which one of the players just happened to know how to operate.
“It’s not too late to back out,” Hayden offered.
“You might want to rethink this, Old Man. I would hate to come into your house and embarrass you,” I said.
“Isn’t that what we do?” Wolf asked as he tried to hide his smile.
“Yes, it is,” I said and then got a contemplative look. “As a matter of fact, I bet all three of us can beat you.”
That stirred up the hornet’s nest. We all knew that the coaches wanted to see the three of us timed. Hayden no longer looked like he was playing.
“Tell you what. If all three of you beat me, I’ll buy you all dinner at Fuzzy’s Taco Shop and a lap dance at Sugers. We’ll do that before we go to the party tonight,” Hayden said.
“And if we lose?” Tim asked.
He was our weak link, speed-wise, and wanted to make sure he understood what was on the line.
“You have to pay for the first keg,” Hayden said.
“I can eat a lot of tacos,” I said.
“Who do you want to race first?” Wolf asked.
I liked that because it would force Hayden to run three times instead of racing all of us at once.
“Nice try,” Hayden said, wise to our devious plan. “We’ll run it all at one time.”
“You sure you don’t want me to race you ten times?” I teased.
“Just line up and let’s do this.”
Word got out that Hayden was upholding the pride of Oklahoma against high school kids who had smarted off. Hayden found over half the team lining the forty yards to cheer him on. I was impressed; he didn’t look nervous at all.
As we started, we were all even, and his teammates stood on the sideline, yelling their support. Ten yards in, it became evident that both Wolf and I would beat Hayden easily. We’d been working on our speed drills and were both taller than Hayden. Our longer strides ate up more ground than his shorter legs.
Tim, on the other hand, was the same height as Hayden at six-one. They were neck-and-neck.
Wolf and I focused on our form and finished the race. I looked back, and Tim had Hayden by a nose—until Hayden dove for the finish line. It was close. I checked the LED displays, and they both read 4.88. That might be a personal best for Tim.
Tim helped Hayden stand up.
“Shit, I thought you had me,” Hayden admitted.
“What do we do in the case of a tie?” I asked.
“I say we still hit Fuzzy’s and Sugers before the party, but you have to pay your own way,” Hayden said.
Come to think of it, that was probably the best solution since we were on an unofficial visit. It might be an NCAA violation to buy recruits lap dances.
◊◊◊
We caught up with the dads to talk about where we stood after we played some seven-on-seven.
“It’s everything I remembered. I like it here,” Tim said to kick things off.
“Seems to me we fit in better than we would in LA,” Wolf added.
“I agree it’s a better place football-wise. My only concern is how it stacks up educationally,” I said, and then shared with them the report my mom had found.
“Once we move into the house in Malibu, it would be closer if you were at USC,” Dad reminded me.
“It would be easier for us to come to games if you go here,” Jared, Wolf’s dad, said.
“The girls were better looking at USC,” Conner, Tim’s dad, pointed out.
“I like the weather better in LA,” Cassidy said, and when we all looked at her, she added. “I’m going to school wherever David does.”
“Did you apply to USC?” I asked.
“Brook helped me, and I’ve been accepted at both schools,” Cassidy said.
I would have to dig into how Brook ‘helped’ her get into USC because they only admitted thirteen percent of applicants. While Cassidy’s grades were okay, she didn’t quite fit their criteria for acceptance.
It was different for athletes; they didn’t go through the usual process to get accepted. I, on the other hand, met the qualifications for admission based on my grades and college board exam scores. I even had a few extracurriculars, such as winning an Oscar, that would help me get in if I didn’t go the football route.
The better question was, how did Cassidy plan to pay for USC? It cost nearly fifty thousand dollars a year more than Oklahoma. The last thing I wanted was to see her going into significant debt to follow me to college. I would pull her dad aside and make sure that wouldn’t happen.
