Free The Player by Camille Leone Page B

bed, and not to let her get photographed. Reina didn’t ask to be brought into a whirlwind of entertainers and music critics. She didn’t need to get into some twitter flame war with Ozzy’s detractors. So when Perry Oswald Jennings spent time with his only child, Harlow made him promise to just be Perry, Reina’s dad, and not Ozzy the rapper. But like most celebrities Ozzy had a tough time keeping his personal and his private life separate.
     
     
    The stadium was loud and colorful, just like one of Ozzy’s concerts, or even the exciting, filled to the max stadiums during Trinidad and Tobago’s Carnival . Harlow tried her best to keep up with the action on the field, but it was hard. The players moved so fast and she wasn’t terribly familiar with the game, so all she could do was rely on Reina for a rundown after each play.
    “Ooh! Ooh Mom! Kyle just got sacked. That brought the ball back into their own territory,” Reina said, alternating from looking down on the field to her phone.
    “What territory?”
    “See those lines on the field?” Pointing to show Harlow where to look, Reina almost knocked heads with her mother. “Each one counts for ten yards. They have to get to over the fifty yard line or the middle of the field to be in Bears’ territory. Anything behind the fifty is their territory. That’s why their backs are to us. It’s not good to go backwards, but if they go forward at least twenty yards then they’re in the other team’s territory. They’ve got to make it past Chicago’s goal line to get six points on the board.”
    The crowd gave a collective groan when Kyle was sacked again. This time he was slow to rise, making Harlow squeeze her daughter’s chicken wing sauce covered left hand. “He’s hurt,” Harlow said, looking around the room to see if anyone else was concerned. Just like Reina, some were focused on their phones, while others were looking at the field. Some were filling up their plates with food. There were six other families in the private box, and most of them were either related to a player or the team’s owner.
    Reina put her phone on her lap, reaching for a napkin and more wings from her plate. “It’s okay, Mom. He walked back to the huddle just fine . . . and . . . and he just threw a bomb to Romero downfield! Mom! They’re on the Bears thirty yard line! YEAH!!!!!”
     
     
    THE GAME
     
    Free safety Marquis Owens was big and quick. With his speed he was beating Soebel on the line of scrimmage, getting in the backfield and much too close to Kyle once again. With no man open downfield and the pocket collapsing, Kyle took off racing toward the right sideline.
    Marquis collared Kyle by the shoulder pads and threw him to the ground. After Kyle’s run on the outside netted a gain of six yards, he needed help just to walk back to the huddle.
    ‘You alright man?” Darren asked, concerned over Kyle’s wincing facial expressions. “That Owens kid is trying to make a name for himself, but I’m gonna switch up with Soebel. I got this.”
    Kyle bit down on his mouth guard, trying to block out the pain shooting through his right hip. “I can’t take another hit like that. I’m stiffening up.”
    On the next play Kyle handed off to his running back and Darren did exactly as he’d promised, trading with Angus Soebel so that he’d post up against Marquis Owens. After bulldozing the kid back, Darren drilled Marquis into the artificial turf. With his arms uncovered, the turf gave Marquis’ exposed skin a nasty burn, which was just the message Darren wanted to send. After a gain of only one yard, it now was third and three, and this time Marquis was the one walking slowly back to his squad. With his favorite receiver in double coverage, Kyle debated airing it out and ripping one into the end zone. Instead he opted for a short shovel pass to his running back, and this time his offense punched a hole in the defense that was big enough for a first down and then some.