Practice is easy, simple walkthroughs without any helmets or pads at all. Some of the guys have already been in training camp for a month now, and we're getting into the needs of professional athletes in-season, which means trying to prevent banging up our bodies as much as possible.
The punt team is out on the field, running through their blocking assignments when Lance Pollard, our starting left guard and one of the second year Canadians on the team, comes up and slaps me on the shoulder. "Congrats, man."
"Congrats on what?" I ask, confused. Lance is big, about six foot four and two hundred and seventy pounds, smaller than an American lineman, but perfect for the faster, more spaced out Canadian game where speed is important and being over three hundred pounds can be a challenge for even the strongest of players. "The throws today?"
"Nah, for breaking in Fumbles," Pollard says with a grin. "We always wondered who was gonna get to fuck her first."
I don’t even respond, and before I know it, my left hand seems like it’s moving on its own. It smacks Lance across the nose, and I actually tackle him, he's so caught off guard. Getting on top, I'm pounding him in the face, stunning him before he can push me off, and we roll, him to his hands and knees, me to my feet.
“Asshole!” I scream, kicking him in the ass when I get to my feet.
Hands grab at me, pulling me back and away, and Coach is there, trying to figure out what the hell is going on. "Settle down, settle down!"
I calm somewhat, and see that Lance is still down, holding his nose and shaking his head side to side, groaning.
Coach shakes his head and points to the locker room. "Go chill out, Tyler. I'll see you in my office after practice. DeAndre, go with him. Vince, run the offense!"
As I make my way through the stadium with DeAndre, he stops me just after we turn into the tunnel. "Tyler, some advice?"
I nod, taking a deep breath. There's no hardness in his voice, just concern. "Yeah, I'm okay. Besides, I'm still a rook, right?"
"Eh, you won't find the hazing bullshit on the Fighters that you'll find in the League, but yeah, you're still a rook," he chuckles, and we keep walking. "Pollard wasn't trying to piss you off."
"Whether he was or not, it was uncalled for," I return, trying not to get heated again. "Maybe I shouldn't have reacted that way, but I didn’t even think. It just happened. I’m surprised he went down like that — the dude’s a monster.”
"You caught him just right, I'll be honest I didn't even see the punch and I was right next to both of you. I overheard what he said, and no, it doesn't excuse it, but come on, you're a football player. That ain't shit on the field. Haven’t you heard it all before?”
“Of course I have…”
"Well, there you go. You can’t let that shit get under your skin.”
I shake my head. “Look… never mind. Message received."
He lets it drop, and we keep walking up to Coach's office. Instead of leaving, he walks me inside before getting me a coffee. "One more word. I'm not trying to piss you off, just saying."
"Go ahead."
"Every year some rook comes up from the States, he's lonely, a bit homesick, rattled by living in Canada, and he finds a local girl for a quick hookup. Then he turns around and goes back to the States when the season's done or he gets a call from the League, and ditches the girl up here. Most girls, they're fine with it, they know it's just for fun . . . but some ain't. And well, April doesn’t strike me as the kind of girl to have some “fun” and then be done."
"What about you? You married a Canadian girl."
"Yeah, I did, but it doesn't mean I didn't play the seasonal game for a year or two myself."
DeAndre leaves, and I sit, considering what he said, until Coach Blanchard comes in in about a half hour. "Well, his nose is broke."
"Sorry about that, didn't mean to break his nose."
Coach takes a seat at his desk and crosses his arms. "Yeah well, you just made everyone's job a lot harder. In case you haven't noticed, Lance is the guy covering your ass, and I don't know how you did things at Western, but punching out your offensive linemen is not the usual way to foster that spirit that's going to have them protecting you."
I nod, and lean forward. “You’re right, I lost my cool. But he did disrespect April. I know it doesn’t make it all right, but still…”