CHAPTER 78

I headed over to the practice facility which was about thirty minutes away. The parking lot was pretty empty, so I made my way past security into the training area. I went to my locker, changed clothes and entered the weight room. There were two other player's working out, I didn't know who either of them were. They barely acknowledged me as I entered, which was fine with me.

I decided to work my upper body, it was easier to do alone with no spotter. I turned on my IPOD, put my earphones in and began my workout. I tried to block everything and everyone out, I had a lot of anger to get out. By the time I had finished both the flat bench press and the incline bench, I was dripping wet. I knew I was out of control by the amount of weight I was slamming on the bars. As I glanced across the room once, I saw both of the other players watching me intently.

I was working on my shoulders and had just finished a set, dropping the heavy bar on the rack. I felt a tap on my shoulder, it was Coach Reed. I pulled the ear phones out, just in time to hear him speak to me.

"Brian, what's wrong son ?", he asked.

"I'm ok Coach, it's my….. ", I stopped, I didn't want to get emotional.

"What is it ?", he asked, concerned.

"Can I come up and talk to you later ?", I asked.

"Sure, you can. I'll be in my office.", he told me.

I went back to my workout just as relentless as I had been. After close to ninety minutes, I was exhausted, so I hit the showers. I dressed quickly then made my way to the third floor, which housed all the main offices. I wandered down the long hallway until I found Coach Reed's office, he was working intently behind his desk. I knocked softly on the open door, and he looked up the right way.

"Coach, are you busy ?", I asked.

"No Brian, come in, close the door.", he offered.

I did as he asked, sitting in one of the chairs directly across from his desk. It was a really nice office, decorated with years of memorabilia from his coaching career, much as I remembered my own father's office had looked.

"Brian, is there something I can help you with? I know sometimes, all of this can be a bit overwhelming for young players. I want you to know my door is always open to you. Anything I can do to help you, if it's in my power, I will try.", he offered.

"Thanks Coach, but this is a kind of tough one.", I replied.

I went on to tell him what had happened, pretty much the whole story of Courtney and I, but more importantly how close I was to her father. He had in many ways taken my father's place after his death. It didn't take long for me to realize two things. One, Courtney was more important to me, than even I had realized. Two, this man that sat across from me, the one who had just taken a huge gamble on me, was as concerned about me as a person, as he was a player. By the time I had finished, it was clearly evident he was truly sympathetic to my plight.

"Brian, I really don't know what I could say or do that could possibly help ease this burden you're carrying. All I can offer to you, is that this entire organization will stand behind you through this. Whatever you need from me or this team, you just ask.", he offered.

"Thanks Coach.", I replied.

Later that evening, Courtney's mother called me as she had promised. The biopsy had shown the mass was indeed a tumor, worse yet, it was malignant. Courtney was going to be flown to another hospital where more tests and possible immediate surgery would be done. Once again Mrs. Timmons urged me to be patient, to wait until things were settled before flying home. She promised to let me know as soon as she could, so I would know when and where to go.

I called home later that night and talked to Ashley for hours. It was good to hear her voice. It was the second time Ashley and I had cried together, only this time she wasn't there to hold.

The next four days were a blur of phone calls, text messages and emails. Courtney had indeed been flown to another hospital when countless tests were performed. The ultimate decision was still hanging in limbo, the doctors were still carefully weighing their options.

I woke up early Wednesday morning, ate breakfast then drove to camp. We had to report by nine in the morning, practice would start around ten, it would be outdoors. I was only a block away from the entrance to the camp but I could already see fans lining up along the facility to attempt to get in and watch the practice. Several people waved as I pulled into the player's entrance, although I doubt any of them seriously knew who I was. I entered the locker room, found my locker and began to dress for practice. I hadn't paid much attention to who was where as I had walked into the facility. I was tying the shoelaces on my cleats when I heard a voice behind me.

"This is the offensive side of the room, rookie, you're on defense, you belong over there.", said the gruff voice.

I turned and looked up as several players burst out laughing and clapping. There stood Billy Huber, a smug look on his face, basking in the attention. I knew he was a veteran who had earned his dues, I let it go without saying a word. I leaned back over to tie my shoes.

"Hey rookie, don't you turn away from me boy. I said get over to the other side of the room.", he snarled.

Once again, I ignored him and continued to get dressed which seemed to get him all the more angry. He finally let his emotions get the best of him and slapped me on top of my shoulder.

"Hey boy, I'm talking to you.", he grunted.

I had all of him I was going to take today, veteran or not. I got up quickly and turned, I was face to face looking down at him. He was perhaps six foot three at best, weighed maybe two hundred forty pounds. Being a ten year veteran, he relied more on technique and knowledge of the game, then he did size and strength. You could tell his time in the weight room had slipped over the years, as does happen. I could tell from the look on his face, I had surprised him. The room got deathly silent.

"Look you got a problem with the locker assignments, I suggest you talk to the trainers that give them out. That's my locker and I don't give much of a fuck whether you like it or not. Now if you still have a problem, I'm thinking I can solve it right now for you.", I said, sternly but under control.

Before he could say a word, I heard Coach Reed's voice behind me breaking the silence.

"What the fuck is the problem here ?", he asked, his voice booming.

I didn't take my eyes off Billy, I wanted him to back down.

"Huber.", he growled, "What is the malfunction?"

Billy took his eyes off of me and turned to face Coach Reed, his face turning a bit red.

"Nothing Chief, just having some fun with the kid," he answered.

"Well knock it the fuck off, get dressed and get out there.", he fired back, turning and walking out of the locker room.

Billy turned and looked me square in the eyes again, attempting to muster his angry look.

"This ain't over boy. You and I have business to settle.", he said.

The entire room erupted with ooh's and ah's to his remark, apparently he had been a team favorite for quite some time, he had his own clique. I didn't even wait for the peanut gallery to quiet down.

"Anytime you want to settle up old man, I ain't hard to find. I'm the guy taller, bigger, stronger and faster than you. Oh and by the way, I'll be lined up in your old spot, so it will be easy for you to find me.", I shot back, reached over grabbing my helmet from the bench and walking out to the field, as the player's whooped it up, giving Billy back his own medicine.

As I walked slowly out to the practice field, I realized just how different football was at this level. It was all about the money, and what you had to do to keep it. I guess no matter who you were, you were replaceable. I was close to the field when Josh Henson, our starting quarterback ran up from behind me.

"Hey rook, I love it. That's the way to stand up for yourself.", he said, slapping me on the back.

"I'm sorry, that's really not me, things just are really bad now. I'm usually not like that.", I answered.

"Screw him, Brian. Billy has coasted for the past three seasons and he knows it. He is worried because for the first season in years, he might be in trouble. Believe me Coach Reed didn't waste a first round pick for you to sit behind him long. You hang in there baby, you'll be fine.", he said, slapping me on the butt.

We practiced for close to four hours, mostly in our position groups which meant I was next to Billy for most of the four hours. Neither of us said a word as we went through our drills. It was clear he was more polished than I was, the years of experience showed. But I was definitely quicker, faster and physically stronger than he was. And at my height, I could play the game at an altitude, he simply couldn't. That became evident as we ran about thirty minutes of red zone offense. Several times Josh simply lofted the ball to me either in the corner or back of the end zone. He put it up high where no one other than myself could go up and get it. We scored at least three times during the session. Most of the players walked over to the bleachers where the fans were sitting, it was customary to sign a few autographs and acknowledge their dedication for sitting through a four hour practice. As much as I wanted to go over there, I wanted to call home and check on Courtney. I quickly trotted off the field and into the locker room to shower and change. I was out of the facility in less than an hour.

As soon as I was back at my hotel room, I called Mrs. Timmons cell phone to try and get an update. She answered the phone, in just a few rings.

"Hey Mrs. Timmons, I'm just checking to see if you have found anything else out ?", I said slowly.

"It doesn't look good Brian. It appears the tumor cannot be completely removed safely. And this morning, we found out the cancer has metastasized into her bones.", she said softly, "We are waiting to see the specialist now. Can I call you back in a while ?"

"Yes mam, I'll be here.", I answered.

I tossed the phone on the bed and laid down next to it. It was not even feasible to me that I had been gone from home less than a month and Courtney was this sick. She had been fine just several weeks ago, or at least she appeared to be. I must have dozed off because the phone startled me back to consciousness. I reached over, looked at the number and answered it.

"Hey Brian."

I could tell by the sound of Mrs Timmons voice, the news was not good. I laid back down on the bed not wanting to hear what was coming.

"There's not a lot they can really do Brian. At least nothing that will help. The tumor is pressing into her brain stem, they have to keep her sedated to some degree. If they don't remove part of it, she is going to die. If they do remove enough of it to ease the pressure, we will have to watch her die slowly and painfully from the bone cancer, "she said, sobbing softly.

"Now they are asking us to make a decision", she cried, "God help me Brian, I can't."

By this time the tears were streaming down my face, I felt like I couldn't breathe.

"I'm so sorry... this is ….", I choked up again.

"Brian, we have to make a decision now. If we decide to let her go, can you come see her ?", she pleaded.

"Yes mam. I can leave now.", I replied.

"One of us will get back to you in a few hours.", she answered, hanging up.

I decided not to wait, I called Coach Reed immediately to tell him what was going on. He told me he understood that he could excuse me from practice for a few days, but I had to get back quickly in order not to fall too far behind. I thanked him and told him I would stay in touch. I went out, got something to eat and made it back to my room. I had already packed a small bag by the time the phone rang.

"Brian, it's Gerald. You need to come quick son.", he cried softly.