Daddy's Game (16 page)

Rising out of the water, Natron pulled it in and threw it back.

Jack continued. “We’re gonna make those arms and shoulders like hydraulic cylinders that can’t be moved off their location. You’ll have to get used to defenders playing tight coverage on you. That means pulling on your arms when you go up to catch a ball. That means getting bumped around much more than you’re accustomed to. There will be times when you and the defensive back will both have your hands on the ball. You’re gonna have to out-muscle them to come down with it. And with more strength, you’ll be able to do that. You are gonna have to fight them for the ball on every single catch.”

“Dog, that sounds depressing.” Natron said, his energy level sinking.

“Don’t let it depress you. Let it motivate you. Envision yourself being successful.”

Natron shrugged, unconvinced.

Jack moved on. “You will also have to work on your catching ability. Your hands.”

Natron bared his set of million dollar choppers. “Whatchu talkin’ bout, Jack? You know I got elite hands. Nobody in the business has got better hands than me.”

“Elite, yes. But you’re going to have to be better than elite. You’ve got to be invincible, Natron. That’s what I’m talkin’ about. Invincible!”

Natron chilled. “Okay, I like invincible.”

“You’ll have to catch passes that aren’t put in great positions. Passes the defender might catch first, and you’re gonna have to somehow find a way to take the ball away from him. In other words, if you want Clay Davis to throw that ball to you, he’s gonna have to throw it out of the reach of the defender in most cases. So you’re gonna have to show him that you can make catches that are impossible to catch. And you have to make them every time. No matter what!”

Jack was asking him to do the impossible. Natron nodded. Umhmm. Now that was something to strive for. “Whatchu doin’ just jawin’ then, Jack? Let’s get to work.”

Jack started throwing the ball to Natron while he swam freestyle without a foot planted on any surface of the pool. When Natron missed some of the first few balls, he complained. “This is stupid, Jack. Why would anyone practice like this? You’re nuts, man.”

Jack just smiled. “Keep after it, Natron. You’ll get it.”

Natron sucked it up and pushed himself. Soon he and Jack progressed to where he swam laps and he was able to pull the ball out of the air as soon as Jack yelled ‘ball.’ Natron had developed the core strength and honed his coordination to where he could catch the football mid-stride without having to push off on anything in the pool to make the elevation necessary. He also had to turn his head with ultra-quick speed and locate the fast-approaching ball.

Sometimes to make the catch, he had to reach his arms up out of the water using his core strength to twist and contort his body like never before to leap for that football. Then he had to find a way to catch that slippery sucker with one hand.

To say it was a challenge would be an understatement, but it was a challenge Natron accepted, reminding himself that if anyone could get him back to playing shape this year, it was Jack; the man was a fifteen-year veteran of the NFL and the best trainer in the biz. He’d put himself in Jack’s hands and he trusted him.

Natron was just finishing up his post-workout stretches when Veronique walked out toward the pool. Jack excused himself and headed inside to go check on their lunch. He’d gotten Natron’s chef preparing only healthy foods.

I’d kill for a pizza right now
, Natron thought as he waved to his mother. She was frowning at Jack’s retreating form.

Veronique and Jack didn’t see eye to eye on most things, and not only was the house getting too crowded, but the daily conflict was hardly conducive to his recuperation. It was time he and his mamma had a talk.

Veronique brought him a Powerade and a pitcher full of iced water. “I brought you something to drink, baby. Gotta stay hydrated, you know.”

“Oh, I know, Mamma. Thanks.”

She rested fists on her hips. “What are you doing in there? You know the doctor said you weren’t supposed to be putting any weight on that leg!”

“I’m not, Mamma.”

“Well, that’s not what it looks like to me,” she huffed.

“It’s fine. The water gives me the resistance I need, but it also keeps the leg floating, with no pressure on it, like a zero gravity thing.”

“This is all Jack’s idea, isn’t it?” Her mouth pinched up at the word ‘Jack.’

“Mamma, I don’t know why you are so down on him. He’s trying to help me get back to playing football.”

“Too fast. He’s reckless. He’s not worried about you like I am. That man only wants a paycheck.”

“Mamma, that’s not fair.”

“Hmph!”

“Mamma, sit down. We gotta talk.”

Frowning, she pulled one of the chaise lounges closer to the pool and sat down. “What do you mean, Natron? What’s wrong?”

“Mamma, I appreciate everything you have been doing for me. You’ve been great, and I love you from the bottom of my heart.”

She crossed her arms over her ample bosom. “But?” she said, an ‘oh-no-you-did-not’ look on her face.

“But soon it will be time for you to go back home.”

“What?”

“Yeah, at the end of the week I’m going in for my next x-ray and if they let me put weight on it like I’m hoping, then Jack and I are going to be hitting the rehab hard. I’ll be able to walk pretty soon after that and I won’t need you to be here anymore.”

“Well, that’s a fine thank you. You won’t need me anymore,” she snorted.

He looked at her with as much love as a boy can have for his mamma. “I love you, and I am grateful for all your help, but I’m a grown man and it won’t do for me to be seen as a mamma’s boy. I have to stand on my own two feet… As soon as they tell me I can stand.”

Veronique was quiet for a while, then brushed a tear from her cheek. “I’m sorry, Natron. I’ve clearly outstayed my welcome.”

“It’s not that, but you’re making things harder on the people around me. You haven’t been very accepting of Carmen, and now you’re fighting with everything Jack says. All that makes the environment very stressful. And what I need right now is peace and support.”

She sighed. “You’re right. I’m not doing too well with all these other people in your life. I feel like I’m being squeezed out.”

“That’s exactly what Carmen said.”

“She did?” Veronique seemed surprised.

“Yes, Mamma. She’s my girl. Probably the future mother of my future children, and you’ve treated us like high-schoolers. She’s here to stay, so you’re just going to have to accept that.”

“Well, I didn’t know you were serious about her.” Veronique touched her hand to her chest defensively. “I thought she was just another gold-digger.”

“She’s the opposite of a gold-digger. Carmen is down to earth. She has her own career. And if she only loved me for what I could do for her, why would she be standing by me now?”

Veronique shrugged. “I don’t know, Natron. I didn’t realize…”

“It’s okay.”

“Well, I’ll pack my things and leave whenever you want me to.”

“Hey, not right away. I just want you to start thinking about it, because once that doc gives me the go-ahead, I’m going to be getting really busy around here prepping to get back out there on that field.”

“Alright,” Veronique smiled wanly and reached down to pat his cheek. “Sometimes I guess I forget you’re not my little boy anymore. You’re all grown up now.”

“I know, Mamma. I know.”

* * *

Ten days later, Dr. Whitaker informed Natron that his bones had healed well enough for him to be able to put light pressure, fifty pounds worth, on his leg. The news that his bones had healed so rapidly increased Natron’s belief that he would be back to playing football
this
season. After all, he was almost a month ahead of schedule for his recovery.

The doctor’s instructions launched Natron on a strenuous daily exercise regimen with the team trainers in addition to the workouts he already did twice a day with Jack. The Vipers’ facility had a machine that could determine exactly how much pressure he was putting on his knee while he worked it. It was important he not put more than the fifty pounds on it or the bone could split again at a weak point. And while Natron knew better than to push how much weight he bore on his left leg, he had no intention on training lightly in any of the other areas.

He’d been working his core so hard that he had an eight-pack. Not only did it make Carmen even hotter for him, but it helped him stay in shape so it would be easier coming back to football. In fact, his core was not the only area in which he’d improved. Because he’d been so limited in his weightlifting ability with his legs the past two months, he had drastically improved his upper body strength. Before his injury he was bench pressing 365. Now he could bench a solid 415.

Once Carmen had teased him about bulking up his upper body, saying he was overcompensating. He agreed that was exactly what he was doing, and he explained that more upper arm strength would help him be able to push away defenders when they tried to jam him up off the line, allowing him to run his route unencumbered. He would also be in a better position to pull the ball away from a defender. Another player might be able to get their hands on the ball, but with the strength he had now, he’d be the one coming down with it.

Two weeks later, an x-ray showed that Natron was ready to put 100% pressure on his leg and go full bore into massive rehab. His left leg had suffered a fair amount of muscle atrophy even with the electroshock therapy. He launched into a daily three-hour workout with the Vipers’ team trainers in addition to the two-hour workouts he did with Jack for his upper body and his good leg. They also added another hour to work his weak leg.

One morning Natron was preparing to head over to the team facility for his daily workout with team trainers, when he caught the reporters on ESPN talking about Marvin Stalcup.

“They are just as good a team with Stalcup as they were with Dakers,” a heavyset commentator said.

“You mean to say, you think Stalcup’s as good as Dakers was last year when he was MVP?” The other commentator was Hall of Fame wide receiver Jerry Rice.

“I’m not saying he’s as good, I’m just saying they don’t seem to be missing Dakers. Stalcup has replaced him on the team. The guy is second in the league right now in total receiving yards, Jerry. You can’t argue with that.”

Natron clicked the television off. What the hell did they know? If Stalcup had 800 yards, Natron would have had 1,000 yards by this point had he been playing.

Angrily, he kicked a football that lay on the floor before storming out the door.

In the car, he made a point to listen to music instead of more jackasses with an opinion. He cranked up some hardcore rap tunes and lost himself in the heavy beat.

When he entered the facility, Stalcup was the first person he saw.

“Hey, man.” Stalcup raised a hand and Natron took it, giving him a bro handshake. “What’s up? Good to see you back.”

Natron nodded. “‘Sup?”

“Not much. Killin’ it out there on the field. Can’t wait to get you back out there. Two of us? We’ll be unstoppable.” Stalcup raised his chin and tilted his head back, camaraderie laced with arrogance.

“Yeah, dog. That’s it.” Natron said, cognizant it wasn’t Marvin’s fault they were in this situation. If Natron were in his shoes, he’d take advantage of the opportunity too.

“Aaiight. See ya then,” Marvin said, then sauntered out of the building with the confidence Natron realized he no longer had. Anxiety gripped him and his blood ran cold as if fear had just pinched him in the shoulder.

You can do this. Hell, you’re going to come back better than ever.

Natron waltzed into the workout room and spied Bill, the trainer assigned to him. They acknowledged each other, Natron lay down on the table, and Bill began working on his knee, stretching it, straightening it, warming it up for the workout to come.

“So, Bill, whatchu think about me comin’ back so soon?” Natron said in a relaxed tone. This was the easiest part of his physical therapy.

Bill gave him a puzzled stare.

“What? I’m a month ahead of schedule, dog. I’ll be back on that field catching balls in the playoffs.”

Bill sputtered, shaking his head.

“What? You don’t believe me?” Natron’s fingers twitched with agitation.

“It’s not that, Natron. It’s just… well, it’s a long way from the doctor telling you that you can walk on your leg again to getting back into the kind of condition you need to be in to play.”

“I’ve been staying in shape, Bill. My cardio’s not that off. I’ve been swimming, keeping it up, ya know?” Natron heard the pleading note in his voice and it made him nauseous.

“Yeah, but stamina isn’t the biggest issue. It’s going to be the knee, making those cuts. How much cartilage damage that’s been done.” Bill set Natron’s leg on the table and leveled a serious look at him. “Don’t overdo it, Natron, and give yourself a break. No one expects you to be back this season.”

A rough breath escaped Natron’s lungs. “You mean ‘cause Stalcup is tearing it up.”

Bill shrugged. “I mean because you’re human.”

Then he helped Natron onto the treadmill and they got down to business.

* * *

After his training session, Natron’s mood had gone from irritable to foul. Instead of going home for a healthy lunch made by his chef, he called up an old buddy of his, Clarence, and they hit a local strip joint.

Natron had stopped hanging around with Clarence once he and Carmen had become a couple, but in his stormy frame of mind, knocking back a few drinks with a friend who wouldn’t judge him seemed just the thing he needed.

Thrilled to hear from Natron, Clarence made a big show of getting them a VIP table up front.

Natron could not have cared less about the women. They looked great, but sex was the last thing on his mind. He would have gone to a sports bar, but he knew it would only depress him further to look up and see Marvin on the big screen, the commentators talking about how great he was. What did Marvin have that he didn’t? When he was healthy… He’d been quicker, more explosive, and hell, he’d had endorsements coming out of his ears. Not to mention a gorgeous, talented woman by his side supporting him all the way. Now
that
was something Marvin didn’t have.