First Down for the Girls

First Down for the Girls~ Four

     Thank God for that Oprah episode.

     He cocks his head to the side, a sympathetic look on his face.  "Sorry to hear that,"

     I shrug, mentally rejoicing over the fact I saved myself again.  "It's fine.  I just don't want everyone to know so..."

     "Yeah, I get it.  I won't say a word."  He smiles, before moving ahead, catching up with Evan and Ben. 

     Maybe this football thing wouldn't be as hard as I thought.

     ***

     "If you think that football isn't going to be hard, than you better walk back home to your mommies and daddies right now, because this will be the toughest thing you ever face in your pathetic, disgusting, menial lives."  Coach scans his eyes across all of us.  We stand upright in a straight line, military-style, in the middle of the football field, beneath the beating sun.  I feel sweat seeping through my bandages.  I watch as Coach curves his lips into that permanent snarl, and start to wonder if I should take the warning.

     "This is not a camp for little girls.  This is a camp for men.  And right now," he stops his eyes on me.  "I'm looking at a lot of sissies."  He moves away, and I take a deep breath.  "This is your battlefield, boys.  You will sweat on this field.  You will cry on this field.  And you will bleed on this field.  There will be no mercy.  It's go big or go home. So I want no whimps.  No complainers.  No girls.  Do I make myself clear?"

     "YES COACH!"  The voices resound throughout the crowd.

     "Girls stay at home and cook in the kitchen, and play with their dollies, and cry over their boo-boos.  Are you girls?"

     This guy couldn't be more cliche.

     "NO COACH!"

     Veins pop out from his neck.  "Then I want you to give today's practice all you've got.  Today, we will separate the men from the maggots.  I will split you into two teams.  Each of you will face off another in one-on –one tackling.  The first to fall on the ground loses.  First up, Zachary and Ben."

     The two of them stand a few feet apart, bouncing on their heels, and preparing to attack.  Coach blows his whistle and suddenly Ben has practically jumped Zachary, thrusting his entire weight on him, and bringing him down to the ground within ten seconds. 

     I feel my heart drop to my feet.  I signed up for football, not wrestling.  But as each pair faces off, I can only watch in agony, imaging the horrors that will happen to me once it's my turn.

     "Logan versus..."  Coach looks directly at me.  "Tyler."

     Logan was very daunting.  He was probably about a good 6'3, and though he looked more like those guys off of Laguna Beach, the size of his body will most likely crush my small frame to a pulp.  I never prayed as hard as I did at that moment.

     He quirks an eyebrow, chuckling a bit.  "You're going down, Princess."

     I grit my teeth a bit. 

     "I mean, what are you, like, four foot three?  Don't you think you're a little small to be running with the big boys?  I'd hate for you to break a bone."  Logan grins a bit.  "Tell you what, why don't you forfeit now, and I won't crush you like the stick you are."

     Yet again, I clearly see the options.  I can, A, kick the guy in the one place that would bring him to his knees, though that would only cause me to get beat up by the rest of the guys in the group for "cheating".  B, I can do what he says, and walk away to save myself from the pain, which is probably the smartest option.  Or again, I can be an idiot, and taunt him back, before convincing myself that I had the strength to take him on.