The Odd Ballerz (4 page)

He and Wylie both worked this drill, but he was the one that did the talking. He stood in front of the group, all wide-eyed eager beavers staring back at him, everyone except Jones. She was standing at the back, one of the taller ones here, which wasn’t hard to be in this age group, busy looking around at everyone and anyone but him. He cleared his throat and her eyes zipped over to his. Was that fear he read in them again? If so, fear of what? Maybe he’d misread it, as whatever he thought he saw was gone seconds later.

“We are going to start by learning how to catch a pass. It’s a three-step process and easy to learn. As you all know, this is a football, oblong in shape,” he said, holding the ball out in front of his body, before dropping it to his feet. “Put your hands together like this,” he said, demonstrating. His hands were in front of his face, thumbs touching, and pointer fingers touching. “This is what is known as making a diamond and it’s the first step in catching the ball. See the diamond in the middle of your hands.”

“Yes, sir,” the boys and Memphis said.

“Great. So in step one, we make our diamonds. In step two, we find our quarterback. He’s the one responsible for getting the ball to us. We have to follow the ball as it leaves his hands and arrives in ours. That’s step two. Got it?”

“Yes, sir,” the boys and Memphis said.

“Good. So step three, is all about catching the ball, squeezing it as it makes contact with your hands, while simultaneously pulling it into your body. Simple, right?”

“Yes, sir,” the boys and Memphis said.

“Good. Now let’s pair up, and get in some practice.”

“Yes, sir,” the group said again.

# # #

She actually might have a chance at this drill. The instructions seemed easy enough, Memphis thought, scanning the group of boys for a partner. No one seemed overly enthusiastic about partnering up with her, though. Not sure if that was due to their differences in age or in their abilities. The boys’ glances were quick and away when they made eye contact with her, so maybe it was
her
abilities or lack thereof, that frightened. Whatever the reason, it was looking like the odd man out for this drill she would be.

“Yes,” she whispered under her breath, working to contain her smile, not at all bothered by this turn of events. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if she could skip the delightful experience of throwing and catching a football altogether. But just to be sure she wasn’t noticed, she scooted closer to the currently coach-free pair of Gabe and his partner.

She scanned the group for Coach Z, knowing he’d probably see her predicament differently, but for now he and Coach Wylie was busily assisting the boys who’d found partners. She turned her attention then to watching Gabe and his partner.

Both boys seemed quite good, catching and throwing the ball effortlessly to each other. With each catch Gabe took a few steps backward per the instructions, increasing the distance between he and his partner. She was impressed. Both boys had abilities enough to render this drill easy. And she wished, the first time in a long time, that she’d been able to do the same, that sports had come easier for her.

# # #

Z watched the boys, searching for those that required additional assistance. It took some longer than others to get used to the feel of the ball and the correct way to hold their hands. And speaking of having trouble, where was Jones? he wondered, searching the cluster of boys for her.

He found her standing beside Gabe, partner-less. And no, given her actions so far today, he was not surprised, unfortunately. He watched her for a second longer to be sure. Yes, she was alone, quietly watching Gabe and his partner Sean.

Jones, Jones, Jones, he thought, waiting to see if she would look up. She did a few minutes later, scanning the group of boys first and then Coach Wylie. It was him she was looking for next, and yep, he thought, smiling—internally of course—when her eyes met his. It was as he suspected, ’cause all wide-eyed and guilty was the gaze that met his. He chuckled and headed over to meet her.

“I guess it’s you and me today?” he said when he reached her.

“Or I could skip it all together, and you could continue to help the others. I’m not much into catching anyway.”

“We aren’t doing that again, are we? I thought we’d covered this topic earlier? There will be no skipping of anything,” he said.

“What are
you
talking about? It was only out of consideration for the boys that I didn’t interrupt you and Coach Wylie with your training.”

“Sure, that’s it. Follow me,” he said, and led her over to the end past the last pair of kids. He stopped and waited for her to catch up to him, before moving closer to stand in front of her. “Now show me your hands. You
do
remember what comes next, right? You
were
listening, weren’t you?”

“Were
you
listening is the real question?” she said, and almost laughed aloud at the expression on his face. He lowered his shades and stood staring at her for a second.

“Yes, I was listening. I’m to make a diamond with my hands,” she said, holding her hands out in front of her, demonstrating. “Find the quarterback, and watch him throw me the ball, following it into my hands.”

“Don’t get hostile, Jones,” he said, handing her the ball.

“I’m not, just answering your question, Coach.”

“Okay, take a few steps back and throw the ball to me,” he said. She did. He caught it and threw it back to her. In and out of her hands it went.

“I wasn’t ready,” she said, picking it up from the ground before throwing it back to him. He really had that expressionless blank face thing down pat when he wanted to.

“Let’s try it again then,” he said, meeting her gaze, or his shades did anyway. “Are you ready this time?” he asked.

“
Now
? I am, yes,
now,
I am ready,” she said, before putting her hands up into the required diamond shape. He threw the ball again and it was in and out of her hands again.

“I thought you were ready.”

“Me too. You should have a talk with my hands. They’re the real problem here.”

“Take a couple of steps back,” he said, trying not to laugh.

“Is that the smart thing to do?” she asked.

“Excuse me?” he asked, surprised she could tell.

“I mean, don’t you think I should stay put here until I can catch the ball from this spot? Really, how much sense does it make to have me move farther away. If I can’t catch the ball here, what makes you think I’ll be able to catch it from over there?” she said, pointing to somewhere over her shoulder.

“Jones,” he said, all serious-coach tone in his voice.

She sighed but complied, waited for him to throw the ball to her again. He did, and she watched it move through the air, all spirally and pretty and coming in fast. She ducked just as it reached her.

“You said you would try, Jones,” he said, a man using his utmost patience for the kid that was problematic, is what she heard in his voice.

“I was trying.”

“Try harder then. I won’t hurt you.”

“Right,” she said, waiting again. Her hands were up in the diamond position, watching as the ball came towards her, and dang that ball was moving fast. She batted it away at the last minute, watching as it fell to the ground.

“Let’s try something else. This isn’t working.”

“Told you.”

“Move closer to me then?” he said, choosing to ignore her comment. He stood, silently waiting, until she followed his instructions and moved closer.

He threw the ball to her again, watched as it went in and out of her hands.

“Take another step closer to me,” he said.

“I can’t or I’ll be standing on top of you.”

“Jones,” he said, more of his coach-with-patience on display, watching her take another step toward him. “Now open your hands,” he said. She obeyed and he softly tossed the ball to her. She caught it.

“Good now, again.”

“Okay,” she said, and smiled as she caught another softly thrown ball.

“Now, take a small step back. Nothing huge.”

“See, sometimes baby steps are the way to go.”

“Less talk, concentrate on catching the ball please.”

“Right,” she said, and waited for another softly thrown ball, which she caught again.

“Good, Jones, now take another step back.” Before she could do as he’d asked, a whistle blew, a long pull of shrill, different from the other whistles she’d heard today.

“Saved by the bell? Camp’s ending for the day,” Coach Z said. Memphis looked around and yes, the boys were moving to the middle of the field.

The coaches had moved them efficiently through the two hours of training, and now they were done and she wanted to shout. She didn’t though, walked over to the middle of the field instead, joining the boys who stood listening to Coach Wylie thank them for their efforts today. She went over to grab her bag from the restrooms afterward, and it was over to where she’d parked her car and home for a good soak in the tub and then lights out. She was some kind of tired, and she’d be sore tomorrow, and that was another reason she didn’t do sports. However there was a tiny part of her that was proud to have survived day one.

# # #

She had barely gotten into her car before her cell phone rang. Of course it was Alex, her new target for sisterly payback once she could figure out a proper one.

“So?” Alex said.

“You should have told me he was fine.”

“Who’s fine? Z?”

“Yes, Coach Z. We have to call him that.”

“He’s your coach. We all have to call him that. You think he’s fine, huh? That’s something I didn’t see coming. So you’ve finally come around to the swirl,” Alex said, chuckling. This was new; Memphis preferred brown men, or so Alex had thought.

“I only said he was fine and even if I were interested, I certainly wouldn’t call my relationship with a man some frozen ice cream treat. What am I? Ten? Anyway,” Memphis said, moving away from relationship talk. “I don’t remember seeing him at your games. How long have you two known each other?”

“A year and a half and that’s because your idea of game attendance is a quick in and out, as quickly as humanly possible.”

“Hey, I’m there to watch
you
play. My attendance is the point and I don’t think he likes me.”

“Who, Z? I doubt he feels any way about you. It’s all about the team for him. It’s just his way and he’s not there to like you anyway. He’s there to turn you into a football player, to train and to coach you. He takes his time seriously, and expects the same from others. He doesn’t like people who don’t try.”

“I’m trying. Who says I wasn’t?”

“Nobody. I did hear that you were late.”

“So what’s this? He’s reporting to you?”

“No, he’s not. But he hates it when people show up to practice or whatever late. Which again, is what I heard you were.”

“Did he tell you that?”

“No,
again
.”

“It couldn’t be helped,” Memphis said.

“I don’t know if it could or couldn’t. What
I
do know is that time is a big thing for him so if you want to be in his good graces, you’ll need to be on time,” Alex said.

“You have me training with a bunch of little boys!” Memphis said, voicing another complaint in her long list of them. “You should have told me. Had me looking like an idiot, thinking it was just going to be him working with me alone.”

“Those little boys are seriously serious about playing football. They are just as new to the game as you. Believe me, it’s much easier to suck in the midst of a bunch of people. You would not have been happy sucking in front of him all by your lonesome, so quit complaining.”

“I’m in training for two weeks,” Memphis shouted, moving on to her next complaint. “You should have told me that too. I’m not sure I can even be here for that long. I have other commitments you know, other things to do with my evenings besides going to camp,” Memphis said. She started her car, waiting her turn to back out of the parking lot.

“Like what?” Alex scoffed. “So you miss doing your work, work and more boring work. You’ll live and you’ll be in much better shape at the end of it. Take your medicine like a big girl. You lost your bet and this, young one, is what is called ‘paying up.’”

“I suck and two weeks of camp won’t make me better,” Memphis said, ignoring the comments about her life.

“How do you know, it’s your first day. Plus, you need time to get in shape, especially if you want to have a serious shot at getting some actual play time. That’s the reason I signed you up for camp in the first place. You can get in shape
, and
Z can figure out where to put you on the team. Given your skill level, this is a win-win for everyone. He’s a good coach. You’ll learn a lot from him.”

“I’m going to be on the team. This is a rebuilding year so it’s not only try-outs like I thought. I actually have to play. Did you know that?”

“The bet was to try out and if you made it, you were going to play. Wasn’t that what you agreed to?”

“Yes.”

“So what? You thought you’d be too terrible to play, and we’d let you off the hook?”

“Sort of,” Memphis said, fessing up to her hidden hopes.

“Sorry to disappoint you then. It’s me and you, come fall.”

“I’m not athletic, nor do I have any sports related skills.”

“See, this is why I didn’t tell you about camp. I didn’t want to hear you whine your way out of it, like you’re doing now. It isn’t as hard as you’ve built it up in your mind. What’s with you and sports anyway? Why do you dislike them so much?” Alex asked.

“You were young when I was in school, so you don’t know how bad I was then.”

“That was then and this is now,” Alex said, interrupting her. “What was it that you were always telling me growing up? ‘If at first you don’t succeed, keeping on trying until you do’ or something like that. You can’t be as bad as you make yourself out to be.”

“What if you were my coach instead of Z? You could train me,” Memphis said.

“Nope. He can be a hardass sometimes, but he’s fair and if you try, he’ll work with you. And no, I can’t train you. You’ll just try and talk me out of doing whatever it is you don’t wish to do. You won’t be able to talk Z out of anything. He’s an indifferent third party, immune to your charms. There is a reason you’re successful selling insurance. You can talk anyone into anything.”