I looked back at Morris. “Why was he in the game, sir? We had the victory well in hand, there was no need to have our starting quarterback on the field right now. This didn’t need to happen.”
Morris just shook his head. “Charlotte, we do strength, conditioning, and recovery. Football decisions are Armstrong’s decision. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now let’s get him back into the facility so we can run some tests and figure out what to do with that knee of his.”
By now a couple other trainers had brought the stretcher, and were prepared to move Lance to it, but I could see the anger on his face and that this wasn’t going to work. I waved them away, and Morris and I helped him to his feet.
We got about 3 steps away from the table when Lance’s right knee buckled again, and he almost went down hard. “Nope,” Morris said, shaking his head, “we’re going with the stretcher.” Lance shot him a look, but Morris stared him down. “Don’t fight me on this, Parker, I could take you out at the knee.” Even Lance smiled a bit at that one.
We helped him onto the stretcher and wheeled him deep into the medical wing of the Patriots facility. By now, the game had ended and the rest of the team was coming off the field.
As we wheeled on through the tunnel, Drake Rollins shouted at us. We stopped for a second, and he came running up, tears in his eyes.
He took Lance’s hand in his. “Get better, brother, we need you out there.”
Lance looked him dead in the eyes. “I’ll do that. You make sure you keep winning while I’m gone. Keep catching those TDs, we’ll need them for the playoffs.”
“You said it, I’ll be ready and waiting. No one throws a sweeter pass than you, Lance Parker.”
It was heartwarming, and I could have watched them bromance it up all day, but we had work to do. Drake stayed back as we kept on moving. I saw Lily Pearson come up to him and he wrapped his arms around her. They watched as we disappeared into the building.
The first thing we did was head in for X-Rays and other tests - we had to see the damage as clearly as possible before deciding if surgery was necessary. Plus, that would also give us preliminary information on how long Lance would need for recovery.
A pro football team in contention can survive for a short time without its starting quarterback, but not more than a few weeks. You’d think it would be possible to find more than 32 men in the world who were good enough to play pro QB, but the fact that backups were such a step down in quality made it clear that wasn’t true.
Quarterbacks were in incredibly short supply, good ones at least, so teams had to do whatever they could in order to keep them safe.
Which made Coach Armstrong’s decision to keep Lance in the game well after the Patriots’ win was assured all the more infuriating and baffling. What was he trying to prove? Did he want to get Lance hurt? How could that possibly help him out?
I didn’t have answers to any of these questions, but I sincerely hoped Coach Armstrong did, because he was about to get asked those very same questions dozens of times by media from all over the country, over and over, for the next week.
About 30 minutes later we got the X-Ray/MRI results back on on Lance’s knee. Thankfully there was no bone damage, but he did have a pretty hefty sprain. We gave him something to take the pain off and help him get a long nap in.
I breathed a sigh of relief. He would need a few weeks of solid recovery, but he could definitely come back this season with the right treatment, and there was no reasonable possibility that this would affect his long term career.
However good the news was, I figured Lance was crushed about it. This was going to be his big year, but for at least the next few weeks, he’d be watching the games on television or from the sidelines.
All of a sudden I felt a foreboding presence around me and I turned to find Coach Armstrong looking at me. “Well,” he started, “how’s Lance looking?”
“Oh, uh, Coach Armstrong, I didn’t see you there.” I composed myself. “Lance has a severe knee sprain. He’ll be out 5-7 weeks at the least, but he can play again this season with the right treatment and rest.”
Coach Armstrong looked at me. “Anything else to report?”
“No, sir, that’s about it.”
“Alright, thanks. I’ve got to go talk to Lee.” He turned and started to walk away.
“Uh, Coach Armstrong?” I could see his back stiffen as he heard me, but he stopped and glanced back.
“Yes, Calloway?”
“Coach Armstrong, I don’t mean to pry, but -“
“Let me save you the trouble, then, Calloway. Don’t.” Coach Armstrong faced forward and walked down the hallway without looking back.
I exhaled sharply, not realizing I’d been holding my breath a little. Something about that man just scared me. The players, almost to a man, loved him like a father, but so far I just couldn’t see the appeal.