Frank had suggested we try it, and he’d run it by Mr. Morris, who’d given his grudging okay. I’d agreed when we had the Make-a-Wish event during that almost-disastrous first game when Alan nearly lost his life due to me choking him out.
Doing the streaming live video using the Dawson#11 account had been a way to make the boy feel more involved. No one had expected the fireworks that had occurred at halftime. At the time, I worried that we didn’t need to air our differences in public. My dad had taught me to praise in public and chastise in private. Given the conversation I’d had with Mr. Morris, I also knew I had to minimize this.
“That was my first attempt to use my football social media account for a charitable purpose. After that first attempt had some drama, word got out. Each week, we have more people tuning in to it near game time to watch what happens pregame and at halftime.”
“Do you worry that it might give the opposition an edge when you say what your plans are?”
“Not really. Eastside has had all week to prepare for us. Every team we face is well-coached. They should have a good idea as to what we plan to do. It still comes down to them actually stopping us. I know that sounds cocky, especially after our game last week, but I know how hard my teammates work to get ready. If we run our offense as we should, they can’t stop us even if they know what play we’re going to run.”
I could tell that I’d probably stuck my foot in my mouth when Jeff got a big smile, and the Eastside coach hurried off to the locker room.
“Since you’re feeling so confident, how much are you going to win by?”
He’d gotten into the habit of asking what the margin would be. I was usually good at guessing. Well, it wasn’t guessing if you knew how ready our team was and what I’d seen of them on film. I took a deep breath because if my comments about them not being able to stop us weren’t bad enough … I decided to go for broke.
“We blow them out. My best speculation is by five or more scores.”
Jeff blinked a few times as he took that in.
“But this is your rivalry game. I’ve been told by some that you might lose this game. You’re at Eastside’s field, they play a high-scoring offense that should keep them in the game, and their defense is much improved. I’m just wondering how you came to this prediction?” Jeff asked.
“Last week’s game was one of those you just try to survive. It made us all realize we actually have to be ready to play. I want to go on the record as saying it was mostly my fault. I took Lakeview too lightly and allowed myself to get distracted. That is not happening again.
“Tonight, you are going to see what Lincoln High is capable of. I predict that it’ll be hard fought for the first quarter and maybe even the first half. By the second half, with our conditioning and our drive, we will take this game over, and everyone will know who the class of our conference is.”
Jeff stopped the interview at that point.
“God, I love you. That is exactly what you need to do each time I interview you. No more of this ‘one game at a time’ or ‘if God is willing’ crap. This is what they pay me the big bucks to report on.”
I was glad someone was happy. Coach Hope probably didn’t need to know what I’d just done.
◊◊◊
I walked into the locker room and found my photography-class classmate, Marshal, with a video camera.
“What’s this all about?” I asked.
“Lily is letting us do your streaming social media stuff. She said to tell you to focus on football.”
“Well, okay then,” I said, a little taken aback. “Just remember, this is for football only; don’t use this for anything else.”
In fact, I enjoyed doing it, but I could see her point in not having me talk. I’d also just put it out to the world that we were going to demolish Eastside. Lily was right; my focus should be solely on the game.
“I’m leaving it up to you what should be filmed,” I warned him.
“Lily and her boss, Mr. Ingram, had a long talk with me. I know what I should do,” Marshal assured me.
“Okay, let’s get started.”
I was amused when Marshal turned the camera around and introduced himself to my online fans. Of course, I would have done the same. I walked around the locker room to make sure everyone knew that Marshal was streaming live. I told him I was going to get dressed and taped, so he should give the guys a chance to give shout-outs to their families and friends.
◊◊◊
After I was dressed, I found Coach Mason. Marshal showed up, and I explained that we were streaming live so that Coach Mason didn’t say something inappropriate. He’d been in the NFL for nearly thirty years, so this wasn’t a problem for him.
“I hear you made a bold prediction. Does that mean you might actually play like you’re a quarterback this week?”
“Yes, sir. Roc might even catch a pass,” I said, throwing my friend to the wolves.
“Just stick it in his helmet if he doesn’t,” Coach Mason said, playing along.
