Against Medical Advice by James Patterson; Hal Friedman

Author:James Patterson; Hal Friedman
Format: mobi
Tags: BIO000000
ISBN: 9780316039659
Publisher: Little, Brown and Company
Published: 2008-10-19T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 39

A WEEK LATER, the football team is called together to meet a new coach. I’m not really sure what happened, whether it was school politics or not. The new guy is one of those really strict types with lots of rules such as You smoke, you’re off the team and Anyone late for practice doesn’t play in the next game. No exceptions.

These are two particularly tough rules for me, since I smoke like a chimney and, with my body problems, I’m always late getting anywhere.

A few days before the biggest game of our season, our practice is moved from the stadium to the weight room. Because I’ve gotten to school late, I don’t know about the change until I get to the field and find it empty.

This makes me incredibly anxious because I know the new coach will be really pissed. My legs start to buckle under me, and the hopping spasms come one after another.

They get so bad that I can’t stand up for very long, and by the time I arrive at the weight room, I am literally crawling to the door. It’s never been this bad, not even close. But at least I’m finally here.

I manage to stumble into the weight room ten or fifteen minutes late, and the coach turns his anger on me in front of the rest of the guys.

“I told you I won’t stand for anyone coming to practice late. That goes for you, too.”

“I couldn’t help it.”

“I don’t want to hear your lame excuses. You’ll have to learn the hard way.”

The rest of the guys don’t like what’s happening. Anyone can see that I’m covered in sweat, but no one says anything in my defense. They’re too afraid of the coach. The practice session goes on without any further lectures, and I lift weights with everyone else. I figure everything is going to be all right. I hope so.

The next weekend, I’m suited up to play and mentally ready. It’s an important game, and I know I can help the team. Right after the pregame pep talk, the new coach takes me aside.

“You’re benched,” he barks like a military drill instructor. “You were late to practice. I warned you.”

“That’s not fair,” I answer quietly, trying not to show him how angry I am. “It wasn’t my fault.”

“I said no exceptions, no excuses. Next time, maybe you’ll listen.”

I can see from his tough expression that there’s no possibility of a compromise. I’m doing everything I can not to explode. He’s taking away the one thing I have that makes me acceptable to the kids in high school. I can feel blood rushing around my body, heating up. I’m thinking what a dick he is. No feelings, no compassion, nothing in his eyes.

“How long do I have to stay out?” I ask.

“I’ll let you know. Don’t ask me about it again.”

This is the worst thing he could have said to me. Not knowing keeps me in a state of high anxiety that I can’t come down from.

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