I didn’t blink. “Yes, sir.”
“But beating on him, pointing out his mistakes in front of the whole team, embarrassing him—that’s not leadership, Dean. It’s not how we do things on this team. I hope you know by now that I’m not that kind of coach.”
“Yes, sir.” I let a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “I’m sorry, Coach. I’ll do better.”
“I know you will, Lassiter. You always do.” He was quiet for a second, still studying me. “Is there something going on, son? Something you’d like to discuss?”
“No, sir.” The answer was automatic. I didn’t complain. I didn’t gripe. It wasn’t my way, and I wasn’t going to change that now. “I think maybe I just was frustrated. Hayward missed a catch and fumbled on the six-yard line against Appalachian State last week. Because of that, we almost lost a game that we should have won easily. We can’t afford to make those kinds of mistakes.”
“Agreed.” Coach nodded. “Coach Hamlin’s working with him this week for all of the reasons you just stated. And you know why? Because Hayward came to me, came to Coach Hamlin, and asked for the extra practice. He knows more than anyone how close we came to losing, and he takes a big share of the blame for that near-miss. Not because of anything I said, but because he’s a good man, and he wants to be a better player.”
I felt a small trickle of regret. “Okay, sir. I’ll let up on him.”
“No, I’m not saying that, Dean. I just want you to be aware that Hayward’s being proactive and trying to improve his game skills. And whether or not you recognize it, that kid looks up to you. What you say to him, how you treat him, it’s going to affect how he performs.”
“I’ll try to remember that. Sir.”
“Right.” Coach removed his glasses, squinting at me as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Lassiter, are you sure there’s nothing you need to share with me? You’re playing better than you ever have, son. You’re set to have the season of your life, to end your college career on top.” He was quiet for a beat. “Everything all right with your studies? Grades okay?”
“Yes, sir. I’m keeping up with all of my classes. Nothing’s falling through the cracks.”
“I’d expect nothing less of you.” He gave a small cough, looking away. “Your . . . personal life? Nothing go on there that you’d like to get off your chest?”
I wanted to scoff,what personal life?But I knew that would only give the coach something to seize onto, an idea that I was working too hard. So instead, I only shrugged.
“Nothing I can think of, sir.”
“You don’t have a girl, do you, Dean?” His eyes crinkled. “Or maybe I should ask if you have a significant other in your life?”
“No, sir. No time for a relationship.” My shoulders squared. “Not now. This year, all I want to focus on is playing the best football I can, earning the best grades possible, and setting myself up for a stellar career in the Army.”
“Right, right.” Coach’s head bobbed. “You’re driven, Dean. You have been since the day I met you. I admire it. You’re the one player on this team I never worry about. I know you’re always going to do the right thing. But I worry about you, son. There’s more to life than football.”
“Football is everything to me, sir.” I lifted my chin. “The game is what got me here. It gave me a future. I’m not going to give it—or this team—anything but my all.”
“That’s bull, Lassiter.” Coach’s eyes glittered. “Bullshit. Your talent on the field was part of why you got your appointment and your acceptance to West Point, but don’t kid yourself. It’s not the only reason. Your grades, your personal work ethic, and your character went a long way to helping. Your leadership skills—you’ve refined them here at the academy, you’ve sharpened them on this field, but the Army didn’t give you leadership abilities. They’re part of who you are. They’re what will make you an excellent military officer. Don’t forget that.”
“Yes, sir.” I bit the inside of my lower lip to keep from fidgeting. I wanted to get back on the field, back to practice.
“That’s why I expect more of you when it comes to Hayward and the other underclassmen who need your guidance. You have what it takes to lead them, to show them how to be better players and better men. I want to see that, understand? We don’t bully on this team. We teach. We lead. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.” My leg wiggled involuntarily. But Coach wasn’t quite finished yet.
“Lassiter, you busy tonight?”
I frowned, not sure where Coach was going with this. “Sir?”
“You know all about our team dinners, right? Remember that I make a point of inviting each one of our starting line up over at least once during the season, too.”
I did remember that from last year. I’d been incredibly nervous, going to dinner at Coach’s house, but it had turned out to be a good time. Mrs. Casey was a good cook and a hostess who immediately made me feel at home. It had been just the three of us, talking football and all of the high and low points of being a cadet at West Point.
“I’m thinking you could use a home-cooked meal. Why don’t you plan to have dinner with my family and me tonight? We eat at six-thirty. Nothing formal or fussy, just a relaxed evening.”
I thought of the homework waiting for me as well as the shoes that needed shining ahead of our next inspection. I really should turn him down and ask for a raincheck. But then again, maybe it wasn’t a good idea to say no to my coach—or to his wife’s delicious cooking.
“Thank you, sir.” I heard myself saying. “I’ll be happy to be there.”
“Good.” He gave me a clipped nod. “See you tonight, then. Get back out there.”
