Free Last Man Out by Mike Lupica Page B

Saturday.”
    â€œMight as well,” Tommy said. “Anything’s better than thinking about
this
Saturday.”
    Tommy knew Nick was just trying to make him feel better. But in the moment, Tommy didn’t want to feel better. He knew what he’d done and knew the loss was on him. Most of all, he knew he had to wear it.
    Coach John Fisher motioned Tommy over now. Tommy was waiting for a lecture, but didn’t get one.
    â€œI don’t think it was a late hit, for what it’s worth,” Coach Fisher said. “You hit the quarterback on his follow-through, and that shouldn’t be a penalty, at least not to my mind, when it’s called correctly.”
    â€œThank you.”
    â€œThat wasn’t your mistake,” Coach said. “Do you know what your mistake was?”
    Tommy shook his head.
    â€œI know you,” Coach said. “I know how good you are at picking up snap counts. You started and then you stopped on that play. You didn’t trust yourself, and that’s why you were a step slow.”
    â€œYou’re right,” Tommy said.
    â€œWhen I call for a blitz, I want you to blitz,” Coach said. “The player I want you to be, the player you are, doesn’t hesitate. Youknow how unhappy I was earlier when you blitzed on your own. But you want to know something? I’d rather have you do that. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”
    â€œYes, sir,” Tommy said.
    â€œI love your talent and your heart, son. But if you don’t trust both, you’re not at the top of your game.”
    â€œOkay,” Tommy said, in such a soft voice he was surprised Coach even heard him, wondering how you could do so many things wrong on the same stinking play.
    He headed for the parking lot. His mom was up ahead of him, walking with Mike Fallon’s dad. He didn’t even remember he was still wearing his helmet until he bumped it getting into the car. He took it off and tossed it on the backseat.
    â€œWant to talk about it?” his mom said.
    â€œNo, thank you. Done enough talking.”
    â€œGot it,” she said.
    It was another car ride in silence driving away from a football field. Tommy was getting used to them.
    When they got home he went straight to his room, knowing he at least had plenty of alone time before they’d have to leave for Em’s soccer game. In the past, when his dad had gone to Tommy’s game, they’d start discussing it play by play as soon as they got home.
    But today, Tommy didn’t need anybody else to analyze what had gone wrong. He couldn’t know for sure what would have happened if he hadn’t committed those penalties and hadn’t blitzed when Coach wanted him back in coverage. Maybe the Bears would’ve won instead or maybe it would’ve ended with thesame result. Coach always talked about what he called “the fallacy of the predetermined outcome,” telling his players that you could never know for sure if the game would have unfolded the same way or differently if a play or two had gone the other way.
    Still, it was easy for Tommy to look back, from the quiet of his own room, and think the Bears should have won today.
    He got out of his uniform, and took a longer shower than usual, making the water as hot as he could stand. But not as hot as he was, still fuming from the loss.
    It was about an hour later when his mom came into his room and told him it was time for them to take Emily to her game.
    â€œI know I told you I’d go,” he said, “but do you think Em will even notice I’m there? She barely notices when I’m in the house.”
    â€œWhether she says it or not, she wants you there, Tommy. And I want you there. Okay?”
    â€œOkay,” he said.
    She leaned against the door frame. There was a sad look on her face. It was a look she’d worn a lot lately.
    â€œWe just have to help her any way we can right now,” his mom