Chapter 16

I had a light breakfast Saturday before heading out to the football stadium. I wasn’t amused to see one of our regular vehicles follow my golf cart until I realized it was Mike and Dave. Most of the access roads to the stadium were blocked off, so we had to wind our way around.

“What’s going on, Chuck? Football season is over.”

He laughed. “Um, college is. Tomorrow is the last game for the pros, and it’s here. They’re playing the Super Bowl, the 49ers against the Dolphins.”

“Oh. Rather obviously, I didn’t realize that. I wonder if I could get in and watch?”

When we parked just outside the weight training facility that was next to the practice field, Mike and Dave walked up. Mike asked, “Why is he laughing hysterically?”

“I just asked if I could get in and watch the pro football game tomorrow that’s being played here. Did the two of you come to watch me not work up a sweat?”

“Well, that explains why he’s laughing. First, Jennifer would kill you for missing her final round, and second, the game has been sold out for weeks. As for watching you, yes and no. Elroy appointed me your guardian in the event that something has to be signed, such as a permission slip for you to play football,” Mike said.

“You’re kidding me, right?”

Mike shook his head. “Not in the least. Harry’s still legally in charge of everything. You and I both know he wouldn’t do it, and why he wouldn’t do it, but he really could legally take over everything you own right now, because you’re still an unemancipated minor, and can’t change that until August, even if you wanted to. I know, the law is an ass. I’m just letting you know.”

The three of them, plus Sayel, followed me over to the practice field. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who was supposed to be here this morning, as several students were waiting already, and a few more showed up after we got there. At least I’d grown even more over the last few months, so now I was a good half inch taller than six feet. I wasn’t the shortest one any more.

There were four tables set up just inside the end zone, with a dozen people standing and talking among themselves. Once it actually hit eight o’clock, one of them came walking over to where we were gathered.

“Good morning, men! I’m Coach Horn, the athletic trainer for the football team. Some of you are probably wondering what the heck we’re doing meeting in January, when the actual football training season doesn’t begin until this summer. It’s quite simple. None of you have worn the Cardinal scarlet before, but you’re all supposed to be capable of making our team this summer. I have a simple job today. You’re all Freshmen here. My job is to see which of you are worthy of my time in working with you, to get you into good enough shape so that when summer workouts begin, you’ll not just survive, but you’ll thrive. Is that clear?”

Of the twenty of us who were present that morning, you could immediately tell who had proper football programs in high school. Twelve of us yelled out, “Coach! Yes, Coach!” or words to that effect. The other eight said, “Yeah, sure”, or words to that effect.

Coach Horn was not alone. Two of his assistants had walked up behind him while he was talking, looking us over. They had been watching, and immediately sorted us into two groups, the twelve and the eight.

Horn looked at the twelve of us. “Gentlemen, thank you for responding in an appropriate manner. You will follow Mister James over to the tables. Mister Harris will address the rest of you.”

“Coach, Yes, Coach!”

We took off at a jog behind James. From behind me, I could hear the ass chewing commence.

We were led to the football field. There were four tables set up in the end zone, each with someone wearing scrubs. James stopped us short of the tables.

“That was Walt Harris, and he’ll be a Senior defensive cornerback on the team. Not someone you want to get on the bad side of, if you get my drift. I’m Jeff James, I’ll be a junior wide receiver. What we are here to do today is to record your basic information, so that we can plan a personalized training program for you. That way, when our official training season starts, you’ll be in shape to play football. Let’s get the first four of you up to the tables.”

The first four guys ran up, one to each table. We were doing a simple cardiac test today. They were asking us our name, age, height, and weight. They’d check our blood pressure, then we were going to do some running, to see who was out of shape. As soon as the first four were done, James pointed them to another assistant, waiting at one sideline. Everyone was to run down and back twice and then come back for another blood pressure check. Once they started running, the next four of us went up. I was in that group.

The man doing the test asked me, “Name and age?”

“California Lewis, sixteen.”

“Oh, you’re the great Cal Lewis, going to be our starting quarterback?”

“That’s the plan, yes.”

“Right. Height and weight?”

“Six feet, half inch, and one ninety two.”

He wrote that down, then took my blood pressure. “BP is one thirty over eighty. Come back to me after you’ve done your two trips.”

“Yes, Sir!”

I headed over to where James was pointing us. This assistant was waiting between the numbers and the yard markers. He was watching the group ahead of us. “Okay. Down and back, twice, then go immediately to the person that recorded your information. Any questions?”

“No, Sir!”

“All right. Go!” He waved his arm and we took off. The first group had just made it back to the goal line and were turning around for their second trip when we took off. I figured that I’d be in trouble if I dogged things, so I didn’t. I made it to the other goal line and turned around before anyone else in my group had made it past the seventy-five. The look of disbelief on several faces was amusing. I made it back to the first goal, did a quick touch, and headed the other way. I had almost a fifty yard lead on the rest of my group. I could tell that irritated at least one of them, so he really began pushing himself. When I passed him on the way back again, he hadn’t lost nearly as much ground as the others. I gave him both a thumbs-up and a nod of encouragement.

I got back to the goal line and then ran back over to the table.

“Jesus, that was quick. Let me get this cuff on you.”

From the frown on his face, I knew he didn’t believe what he saw. He pumped it up again. When he was done, I said, “Don’t worry, it’s right.”

“No fucking way!”

“Yep.”

Coach Horn and the other two team members were waiting. The medical assistant simply shook his head, wrote the same one thirty over eighty down, and said, “Go see Coach Horn now.”

“Thank you, Sir!”

I jumped up and ran over to where Coach Horn and more assistants were standing by the far sideline, with the first group of runners. The four of them were bent over, catching their breath, while an assistant was getting their information.

Coach Horn looked at me. “Well, after that little four hundred yard sprint, you look fresh as a daisy. Obviously, you played in high school and stayed in shape afterwards.”

“Coach, Yes, Coach!”

He slowly nodded. “Well, unless you’re Cal Lewis, nothing you did in high school means shit to me. What’s your name, Son?”

I grinned. “Cal Lewis, Coach!”

His eyes widened. “Seriously?” I nodded.

“Mister Hashimoto is our free safety. Mister Baty is a tight end. They are going to take you over to the gym and weight room. Please do whatever they tell you to do.”

“Coach! Yes, Coach!”

The two of them were wearing sweats, and took off running back to the building where we’d parked. I quickly caught up and paced with them.

“Okay, you’re fast, we can tell that. I’m Mark, this is Greg,” Hashimoto said.

“I’m Cal.”

“So we gathered,” Greg said. “You’re why the two of us are here for the first day. We get to do a bit more personalized study.” He stopped at the door, then saw my team following us. “Got your own fan club?”

“Not exactly. Greg, Mark, this is Mike, Chuck, Dave, and Sayel. Mike is my chief of security, Chuck and Dave are my personal bodyguards, and Sayel is my personal assassin. Long story, and I’ll explain when we’re having our ‘shoot the shit’ sessions later on. Just pretending they’re not here, is the best thing you can do.”

I don’t think I’d ever heard anyone drag out the word, ‘Okay’, quite as much as Mark did just then. He gave a quick shake of his head, then opened the door for us.

Greg led us over to the free weight section. “In case you didn’t know ... which I would consider very unlikely, but stranger things have happened ... there are two schools of thought regarding you and our football squad. The first was that you were a cocky little shit, coming here and telling our coach what we’re going to do. Just for your information, that was the entire Cardinal football squad. We were a lot of pissed off guys. At the same time, we’re probably also one of the highest IQ football teams in the country, too, which meant a couple of guys said, ‘Hey, what if this kid is cocky for a reason?’ So, we dug into your game videos. The second school of thought started to show up then. We were all still skeptical. And then...”

Mark took over. “And then, our season ended on November 17^th, which meant that Coach Elway made our attendance mandatory to watch your game on TV on December 1^st, since we had all returned from Thanksgiving. I play free safety. I have watched that pass over and over and over again. I have watched that pass from every single angle that I can find footage of. There was no strain on your face when you threw that ball. There was no hurry or anxiety when you were avoiding their tackles. You were as cool as if you had simply been on the practice field, doing a simple pitch and catch barely five yards beyond the line. And you threw the ball ninety-six fucking yards. Technically one oh four, because you were five yards deep.”

Greg laughed. “Don’t get us wrong. You were absolutely right in your interview with Keith Jackson. We saw your video from the week before. Olathe had no business being in the championship game in the first place. That’s the way shit happens, sometimes. Then you blew the mind of every single one of us. Your comment about being team captain and quarterback ... and how unselfish you were, letting your teammates be seen on national TV ... well, when you publicly announced you were coming here, even though we all knew it, I don’t think I’ve EVER seen the whole team that fired up. So, right now the only ones who conceivably are in group one are those guys outside, that are like you, freshman that are going to be sophomores when the season starts.”

“Um, I’m technically not a freshman. You may not know that I already have fifteen Associate Degrees, and on April 4^th, I’ll get eight Bachelor’s. Basically, by the time the season starts, I’ll actually be a grad student, although I’m already there, since I should get a couple of PhDs at the end of the Spring Quarter. I still get the same number of years of NCAA eligibility, though, since I didn’t play football for my junior college team as I was still in high school at the time.”

Greg brought his fists up to his head, then spread his palms while moving his hands out, while saying, “Boom! Mind blown, again! Jesus. Okay, let’s get what we actually came here to do out of the way, so we can go back and tell Coach Horn that you’re everything we hoped you’d be. Mark, let’s load the bar up.” He snapped his fingers. “Earth to Mark!”

“Oh, sorry. Mother fucker! Will you help the team with our study sessions?”

“If I can, of course I will,” I said. “I already have one study session on Fridays from ten until one, regarding the law school classes I’m taking. I also have chemistry and medical labs until five the other four days of the week.”

Mark shook his head again. “Of course you do. What’s your training weight for lifts?”

“Okay, sorry, what do you mean?”

“When you were working on the weight bench, what’d you normally exercise with?”

“Ah, I’m sorry. I didn’t understand, Mark. I didn’t work out on the bench or with free weights, not once I qualified for the team. If you’d like, what do you have on there now, two hundred? Take all that off, and put five hundred on.”

They both blinked, but then did that. Then they took up positions as spotters. I laid back on the bench, then got up and adjusted it a little, for my height and arm length. After that, it was simply pick the bar up, use proper form, and I did a quick twenty reps. I stopped after twenty. “Is that enough, or do you want another twenty?”

Clearly shaken, Greg said, “That’s enough.” I racked the bar.

“Keep in mind that I started high school later in the year. I’m sure the team had done a lot of weight training before I started, but I only had three weeks before our first game to work out with them. Then, once the season started, I just helped our Coaches with the rest of the team, keeping them motivated and training.”

“Well ... hell. Without straining, what’s your best deadlift?” Greg asked.

“Um, double that,” I said, nodding. “I could probably do more, but why bother?”

“How do you stay in shape, if you don’t work out?”

I laughed. “Greg, I don’t have to work out with weights. There’re sixteen women I have sex with.”

Mark chuckled. “Dude, we know you’re sixteen years old. It’s not a big deal to brag about having sex with a sixteen-year-old girl.”

“That’s not what I said, Mark. I said there are sixteen women I have sex with. Eve is the youngest, and she’ll be seventeen tomorrow. The OTHER fifteen are all older.”

The two football players were dumbfounded at that comment. Mark happened to look over and see Chuck and Dave with big grins on their faces. “Is he full of shit?”

Chuck shook his head. “Not in the least. Since I’ve known him, he’s been the classic overachiever. He also doesn’t know how to give less than his full effort, either.”

Mark cursed in Japanese, saying under his breath, “Motherfucker. He can’t be that good!”

In Japanese, I said, “Why not, Hashimoto-san? Also, Japanese isn’t your native tongue. You speak it like you learned it after you learned English.”

He did a double take, then said in English, “Okay, so much for making comments like that around you. I’m from Honolulu. And you don’t speak Japanese with an American accent.”

“Thanks, that’s what Tamotsu-san told me in Japan two weeks ago when I was there setting up ... dammit. Sorry. Business, and I forgot that I’m not supposed to talk about that.”

Mike said, “Go ahead. They’re going to be on your football team. They may as well hear it directly from you, instead of the rumor mill, so that way they can set the record straight.”

Mark laughed. “Cal, don’t worry about explaining anything about your background. The only reason we were giving you crap about your girlfriends is because we’re all jealous of you. Remember, I said we’ve seen all your films? What was it the Kansas governor said? ‘Everything good about a simple, mid-American boy, with the intelligence, charisma, and charm, to go incredibly far in this world.’ I’m an economics major. We had to read the Wall Street Journal article on you. I freely admit that things didn’t click for me totally for a while, but the whole team gets it. That video of the construction you’re funding in Hutchinson is inspiring.”

“Mark, you’re not sucking up for a job for after you graduate, are you?” I laughed.

He laughed. “I don’t know. Do you have someone with an economics degree already?”

“Actually, my CFO already has her MBA from Wharton, and she’s going to write something up for Doctor Wessells, so she’ll get her DBA. I’ll get my BA and Master’s in Economics in April, but I still have to write a paper to get my PhD. At the same time, I’m going to need people around the world. We’ll have offices in Japan, India, Saudi Arabia, Germany, and Great Britain by the end of next year, plus our offices here in California, Kansas, and Oklahoma.”

Mike spoke up again. “Guys, I’m sort of curious about something. Weren’t the two of you supposed to be doing some kind of special evaluation of Cal?”

Greg said, “Um, we’ve been doing it, Sir. There was never any doubt in anyone’s mind after his last high school game that Cal physically has what it takes to be a quarterback here. When President Kennedy made his announcement, it was a done deal. He’s an athlete. So what? We all are. The bigger question was whether or not his head was going to be so big that it wouldn’t fit into a helmet. A lot of us aren’t the scientists and numbers guys. I’m getting my degree in Sociology, but I’m specializing in Athletics and PE because if I don’t make the NFL, I want to be a trainer and coach. What we needed to find out is if Cal can help all of us. I’m not saying we’re all magically going to be recruited by the NFL just because we play on the same team he’s on. But we needed to find out if he’s going to be here just so he looks good, and to hell with everyone else.”

Mark said, “And we’ve answered that question. We didn’t figure it’d be an issue, not after what he said on Wide World of Sports, but we had to make sure. Come on, let’s go see what the real rookies are doing.”

We walked back outside, then jogged to the practice field. There were only fifteen guys on the field doing exercises, under the view of Coach Horn, Jeff, and Walt. Three men that I didn’t know were talking to the four medical people in the end zone. One of them saw us coming.

“Ah, so we didn’t have to wait forty years for our wandering team members to return from the desert with their findings.”

Mark said, “Cal, that’s Coach Walsh, waxing biblical. Coach McMackin, and then Coach Kerr.” The three men nodded when Mark said their names. “And no, Coach, there’s no waiting required. No training, either, at least until summer.”

Kerr looked at them skeptically. “Really? I know that he just finished his season in December, but that was a month ago. What’d he show you?”

Greg said, “He only had to show us one thing, Coach. Twenty bench press reps. That was enough.”

“Really?”

Mark said, “Greg failed to mention that it was five hundred pounds, and he did it without any strain at all. It didn’t seem worth wasting time to check out anything else, not at this point.”

Walsh was holding a football with one hand. Without warning, he gave it a fast underhand in my direction. I just simply put one hand out, since it was off to my right and caught it, then brought it into my body.

He turned to the field, and yelled, “James! Incoming!”

On the field, thirty yards away, Jeff James stopped what he was doing and turned in our direction. As soon as I knew he was set, I gave him a quick pass. He got his hands up, caught it, then cursed. He yelled back, “Just a little mustard on that toss. Is that Lewis just threw that?”

Walsh nodded. Jeff started running for us then, a huge grin on his face. I held up my hand, then waved him to toss me the ball back, then pointed the other way. His dark skin contrasted his teeth when he smiled, as he realized what I wanted. He threw the ball in our general direction, then took off at full speed for the far end zone. I moved over, catching the ball. I watched, and when he was at about the twenty yard line, I threw the ball. He put his hands out in front when he was at the five yard line and kept going. The pass landed perfectly in his hands about three yards deep. He pulled it in and his yell of delight could be heard all the way back to our end.

The new players practicing had stopped when they saw Jeff throwing the ball back and taking off running. Coach Horn didn’t say anything, because he was watching, too. I was the only one not stopped and watching the ball, because I knew where it was going. I ran out so that I could be by Coach Horn.

When Jeff caught the ball, the rookies all applauded, then turned back to the front. I was standing next to Coach Horn with my hands on my hips and a stern look on my face. The Coach looked at me with a bemused look on his face, then pointed to me.

“All right, listen up! The last football team I played on, we didn’t have a lot of choice who got to play on the team. They even let me play!”

That got some nervous chuckles from everyone.

“Well, that was high school ball. One of the men I was just working out with said this is probably the smartest college football team in the country, so let’s do some math. There are a lot of high school football teams in the country. The last number I saw was about fifteen thousand. With big and small schools, that means there’s probably seven hundred fifty thousand high school football players. There are one hundred five division 1-A schools, and let’s be generous and say there are only six thousand players at those schools. There are twenty-eight NFL teams with a total active roster allowed when the season starts of one thousand, four hundred, eighty four, and on average, about five hundred new players every year try out, and only half that actually make an active roster.”

I pointed at one of the rookies, that I’d recognized as not being from a good program. “You! What are the actual odds of a freshman high school football player making it all the way to the NFL?”

He looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “Dude, I don’t know. Who the hell do you think you are?”

I pointed at one of the other players, one that had answered Coach Horn correctly. “You! Same question.”

“Based on the numbers you gave us, zero point zero three percent, which is what my previous Coach told me. Permission to answer a different question?”

I smiled and nodded.

He stepped out of the line and looked at the first rookie. “You stopped and watched him just throw a football from one end zone to the other. I don’t know how you even think you can play on the same team with the best football player in the nation, but that’s who he is. He’s our quarterback, and he’s the leader of this team! If you’re not willing to listen to what he says, then get the hell off this field, because those of us who DO want to play football for Stanford are going to listen and learn from him. We may not beat the odds of making it to the pros, but we are going to be the BEST college football team in the nation! Do you hear me?”

Two of the guys in the group, including the one who’d mouthed off, said, “Screw this!” and grabbed their stuff.

The second player I’d called upon stepped back into line. I pointed at one of the other guys, who had a grin on his face. “You! Do you think he was too tough?”

This guy was big enough he was obviously going to be a tackle. He asked, “Just for clarification, you are Cal Lewis, right?” I nodded.

“Then, not only no, but hell, no! We all came here, knowing that Stanford doesn’t let freshmen play on the football team, because this is first and foremost one of the best colleges in the whole damned country. When you made that announcement in December that you were coming here, I felt like I’d just won the biggest jackpot in the world, because I’m good enough to make the team, and that means I’m going to get to play ball with you. Those two assholes don’t know they just screwed their whole futures, and I’m not talking about just football. I couldn’t figure the math you asked, I’m a History major. But I do know you’re going to lead us all the way to the national championship!”

He stepped back. I looked at them, almost like I was reviewing them. “Work with your Coaches. Get in shape. You know what I can do. I told the Salthawk team one time that I enjoy this sport because we’re a team, and we work and play as one. But I also told them that I have more responsibility than just football.”

“After all, football is a fun game, right? The two best professional teams in the country are getting ready to play the biggest game of the year in our stadium tomorrow.” I shrugged, with my hands up.

“Who cares? When it’s all said and done, it’s a game. Entertainment for the masses. Incredibly fun to play. There’s nothing like the feeling you get when you take the field and the crowd is roaring for you, cheering you on! You all know that feeling, right? Well, guess what? The average NFL career is less than three years. You will get good grades, you will get an education, and you will have something to do with your life. Less than a one in ten shot of making a pro team, less than one in twenty of actually playing on a pro team. But you know what? We’re the Stanford Cardinal Football team, and when the end of this next season comes, we’re going to make our MARK on college football. My goal is for all of you to be in the best shape you can be, so that I don’t even have to play in a game for us to all win it! Be ready when summer training time hits, don’t be afraid to come to me if you have any issues. I’m here for all of us. You understand?”

Not just the freshmen that were in the group, but all of the football team cheered then.

“Sorry, Coach Horn. I, uh, sometimes get fired up.”

He slowly nodded. “Mister Lewis, you’re dismissed. We’ll see you this summer.” He turned to the rest of the freshmen. “Now that we’ve seen Darwin’s theory of selection in action, let’s get back to our exercises, shall we?”

I walked over to the other three coaches. Two of them were barely disguising grins. Coach Kerr looked incredibly pissed. “What in holy hell do you think you were doing out there, boy?”

“I thought I was making sure that the rest of the incoming Stanford Cardinal Football team was properly motivated so that they work at getting in shape between now and when summer training actually starts so that we have a chance of being better than the five and six team we had last year. I can’t do everything on my own out on the field, it takes all twenty-two of us to win a game.”

Before he could say anything else, Coach Walsh said, “Larry, shut it. If Jack has to make a decision between you and this kid, then you may as well pack your bags now. We know how to get people into shape. He knows how to motivate them, better than any of us. Mister Lewis, we’ll be in touch with you regarding the official start of training. Mark, Greg, after the hoopla is over this weekend, get with Cal and give him the full and complete tour of all of our facilities at some point. Thank you, Cal, you’re dismissed.”

Mike pointed Chuck to the security vehicle, then he got into the golf cart with me. Sayel got into the back, while I drove.

Once we were out of the parking lot, Mike said, “Do you know why I had you drive?”

“Well, it’s not like you’re going to yell at me, so I presume it’s because you wanted to compliment me on my performance.”

“Why do you think I’m not going to yell at you?”

“Because I just made sure that when the actual training program starts this summer, all the kids that were Freshmen this year will know to be in shape, so they don’t let the team down. Because I just showed the Sophomores and Juniors that I’m thinking of the team first and foremost. Not because of how they can play football, but so they’re able to succeed in life, even if they don’t or can’t play football after college.”

He quietly sat back, thinking, for most of the way home. Finally, he said, “You know what? Chuck was right. You are a pain in the ass at times. What’s annoying is that you’re right. That was a good, motivating, speech.”

“Thank you.”

We were back from practice earlier than expected. When we pulled in, I realized that there was one minor problem. “Mike, I just realized something.”

“I wondered when you’d remember. Sayel, may we use your training center?”

“Certainly, Mister Douglas.”

Mike waved Chuck and Dave over. “Gentlemen, we’re going in for a bit of training. You’ll both want to be a part of this.”

Dave simply shrugged, and followed us in. He hadn’t been inside yet.

“Well, this is a bit better than the trailer-park chic look you had with the modular home in Kansas, but it’s a bit of a maze, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. I’m sure that by the time we get the babies in the nursery section ... wherever that is ... I’ll wonder if it’s big enough.”

Sayel waved for us to enter his room. “Master, which kind of training would you like to do first?”

“Why don’t you go ahead and get your sword ready, and I’ll practice my dancing.”

“As my Master commands.” He took some of his clothing off, so he’d have a bit freer movement. I had worn sweats over gym shorts and tennis shoes, so I took off everything but the gym shorts. Once that was done, we moved to the center of the room.

Dave hadn’t witnessed my hand-to-hand skills in person, so he gave off a slight cry of alarm when Sayel simply pulled a sword and swung it at me. I simply leaned back, then began hopping or otherwise dodging everything he sent my way. A couple times, I ended up jumping over him. After a couple minutes of this, I said, “Halt!” Sayel stopped his blade instantly, a half inch from my face.