Page 14 of Running
“Sure. What time?”
Suddenly, Landon’s getting pulled away by another one of the guys. I let him go and walk toward Head Coach Rich Houston’s office. Coach texted me earlier to stop by, and it’s approaching six, so he’ll head home for dinner soon.
I knock on the door, and when he peers through the glass, he sees it’s me. “Hey Johnson, come in.”
While I work most closely with our offensive coordinator, Marshall Olson, when it comes to on-field strategy, Coach Houston’s been a mentor to me. Almost like a surrogate father.
Better than your real one. Not that surpassing my own dad in the fatherhood department is difficult.
Coach Houston had done his research when the Waves drafted me. He’s treated me from the first day with a soft touch instead of a stern one.
“How’re things?” He’s sitting behind the large wooden desk in his office, which has floor-to-ceiling windows and a view of our main practice field.
I step inside and sit down in one of his guest chairs. “They’re going well, Coach. Bailey and I are on the same page so far. And the o-line seems rock solid. It’ll be helpful to see how the other wide receivers perform during camp. I’m not totally sure who my pick would be for the second and third options.”
He nods. “I like what I’m seeing. So does Marshall. Proud of how you’ve come back from your trip ready for the season.” The praise instantly causes my mood to lift. “How’s your family doing?”
This is probably the main reason for my invitation to his office. Coach wants to check in on my family situation.
“Everyone’s fine.” I clasp my hands together on my lap. “I’m a little worried about my sister having to go back to work, but so far, so good.”
“Margaret and I are praying for your sister and her little boy, and for your whole family. Let me know if you need anything?”
He has a sincere look on his face, and I know from the last two years, his wife Margaret and he really do take their relationships with us players seriously.
I plant a smile on my face, so he can see I appreciate him asking. “Thanks, Coach, I will.”
He dismisses me soon after, and I step into the hallway.
Looking to find more ways to keep myself busy so I don’t have to go home to my empty house.
CHAPTER 5
Grace
BETTER TOGETHER CHAT
LANDON: Connor, you ready to escape to NJ?
CONNOR: Getting there. Gave Mom a list of stuff I need.
RAWLEY: Good luck with that.
LANDON: If you get stuck, send Gracie and me the list. We’ll knock it out for you and have it shipped wherever.
GRACE: Send me the list anyway, Con. I’ll stay on top of Mom to get it done.
RAWLEY: Our little Princeton man.
CONNOR: Think the word you’re looking for is ‘younger.’ I’m an inch taller than you already.
RAWLEY: Taller...but slower. Don’t you need speed in soccer?
CONNOR: So should I mention how Grace apparently killed you in a four-mile run last weekend?
CONNOR: Anyway, my position is as much about field awareness and intuition as speed.
RAWLEY: I know, little bro. Just fucking with you.
