Pride & Joie by M.E. Carter

Author:M.E. Carter [Carter, M.E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: My New Life Series
Publisher: ME Carter
Published: 2017-11-09T18:30:00+00:00

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Hank exclaims, banging his hand on his desk.

We’re watching clips of last week’s game. More specifically, clips of each player. Hank’s eyes are riveted to the screen as we watch Stevens explode off the line, knocking the other team’s defender right on his ass.

“Woo-ie. He’s gotten good over the last year.” Hank sits back, a shit-eating grin on his face. “He’s what, a junior?”

I nod. “Red-shirted the first year, so as long as he’s still on a five-year graduation plan, we’ve got him for another two years after this.”

He swivels his pencil between his fingers, a tell-tale sign that he’s thinking. “I wonder how he’d do on the offensive line.”

“You thinking left guard?”

“Maybe.” The pencil keeps moving. “Lyles is having a tough time keeping people off our QB.”

“I noticed that,” I agree. “I was gonna watch him a little more closely at practice this week. But I have a bad feeling it’s not his skill that’s causing his problems.”

“Christ,” Hank grumbles and tosses his pencil on the desk. “I fucking hate when they lose their focus.”

Having their egos stroked for so long because of their skill level, combined with getting out from under the watchful eye of Mommy and Daddy, can be a disaster waiting to happen for some of these young men. More than a handful of times, we’ve watched kids who worked their asses off throughout high school get to college and fall on their face. The girls, the parties, the freedom . . . football stops being a priority and that’s when the problems begin.

“We all fell into that party trap in college. It comes with the territory. You know that.”

He points at me like I’m the offender here. “Not as a scholarship recipient. I don’t give a shit if his daddy is a pastor and he’s never gotten any pussy until now. A few parties is one thing. But when you can’t do the job you’re paid for, it’s over the line.”

“Agreed.” I sit back and cross my arms over my chest. “Let’s call him in. Show him the clips. Remind him of what he’s got to lose and put the fear of God in him.”

“Whatever we have to do.” Hank scrubs his hand down his face in frustration. “I hate adding extra work to our day because some snot-nosed kid has to be called out for being a fuck-up.” He points at me again. “And he damn well better not get shit-faced at the scholarship gala.

I don’t want our donors anywhere near that kind of shit.”

I chuckle. “I’ll take care of it. I know how the gala stresses you out.”

“You have no idea,” he claims, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Renee spent five hundred dollars on a new dress for this hullabaloo.” I let out a low whistle. That’s a lot of dough. “Every fucking year she drops a shit-ton of money on this thing.”

Once a year, as a thank you to our sponsors, the boosters have a huge fundraiser gala.

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