Rushed by Lauren Landish
Chapter 1
Tyler
Sitting in the locker room, my hands are shaking as I knot up my cleats. Today is my last chance to make the League after the performance I had at the Combine. Pro Day is here, and I need a good showing. If not . . . things get dicey.
I fucked up at the Combine, to put it lightly. Sure, I did okay with my forty-yard dash, and my three cone drill did all right too. But when it came to the big tests, my Wonderlic, the interviews, and most importantly, my throwing drills, I screwed the pooch.
It wasn't totally my fault. I mean, when I got to Indianapolis, I was nervous, and when I get nervous, I like to go out and party. So the night before the combine, I hit up a club. I didn't pick up a girl, not that I didn't hit on a few, but all that was available were some women who wanted to relive their college days, and I wasn't in the mood. So after a couple of hours of getting free drinks and a lot of playing around, I staggered back to my hotel at one in the morning, half-drunk and not in the least bit relaxed.
To nobody's surprise, I showed up for the Combine nervous and tired, and my results showed it too. Now, I'm getting ready for my last chance to prove that I can be a pro ball player, and I'm nervous as hell. I did everything right this time. No drinking, no parties, no girls, even. I've spent the past four days living like a Shaolin monk, except for cutting my hair. I ain't cutting the hair. It took too long to get my look just right.
"You all right?"
I look up from my shoes and see Duncan Hart, one of my best buds on the team and the real star of the Western University Bulldogs. He's already got his stuff on, except he's got a pair of regular training shoes hanging around his neck. He's going to do the bench press and a deadlift demonstration to prove that his elbow, which was recently under the knife, is back to full strength. If anyone doubts that after the workouts he and I have put ourselves through to prep for this Pro Day, I'll happily readjust their reality. We’ve never been in better shape in our lives.
"Yeah, I'll be fine," I reply, shaking out my hands. "Just got the jitters, you know? I mean, I'm not the one with the only question being if he gets a first or a third round draft pick. You've got your ticket punched, it's just a matter of how big a contract you land."
Duncan, who a year ago would have made a smart ass comment, instead smirks and shakes his head. "You'd be surprised."
I cough and shake my head in disbelief. Duncan Hart, feeling the nerves? No fucking way. "What the hell are you talking about? You've got it made."
"We'll see, won't we? Come on, let's go get warmed up."
We go out onto the grass of the field, where I can already see the scouts and some of our coaches standing around. I know a lot of the scouts' work is to get the inside scoop from our coaches about our real playing abilities. Pro Days and workouts can show some things, but video tape and interviews with coaches are still a favorite tool. Of course the scouts know the coaches will try to give the sunny side of things, but still, they talk.
I know what they say about me. Good reads, decent feet, but his receivers make him seem better than he is.
The worst two things, for me at least, are what's probably keeping me from being a second or third round lock for the League draft. First, that my arm is supposedly weak. Yeah, I can't heave the ball seventy fucking yards, but I'm not a six foot four, two hundred and forty pound freak with a cannon for an arm. I'm six two, just on the short side for a pro quarterback, and I'm two hundred and fifteen pounds. I have to be more mobile, and that means I can't just set up and fire bombs. And I've worked hard on it, I can throw harder than ever, but more importantly, I can put the ball on a dime if I get a chance. Still, when teams are looking for monsters who have cannons for right arms, my gun show isn't quite getting the attention I think it deserves.
But what’s more troubling is my off the field reputation. With the League's main offices more worried about sponsor deals and family friendly images, a guy who likes to party and has gotten into a few fights off the field isn't the type the League is interested in nowadays.