Juice - Eric Walters [12]
Caleb was whipping the rope around, doing double skips and crossovers, the sound of the rope whistling as he worked. The rope sped up, faster and faster, and then he did a triple pass and stopped.
“Need…a…drink,” Caleb panted, sweat pouring down his face.
That sounded like a good idea. We walked over to the big fridge in the corner. It was filled with power drinks and protein shakes.
“What do you want?” I asked as I opened the door.
“Shake. Love those shakes.”
I grabbed two and handed one to him. Caleb flipped off the plastic top and took a big sip.
“I’ve been bugging Tony to tell me what’s in these so I can make my own at home,” Caleb said.
Tony made up the protein shakes, and he wouldn’t tell anybody what was in them. Some of the ingredients were obvious: ice cream, milk, protein powder and vitamins. But exactly what and the amounts were like a state secret.
“I just know that whatever it is, they work,” I said as I slurped down my shake as well.
Tony was at the far side of the room, working with one of the guys. He was always working with somebody or working out himself.
“Tony’s a good guy,” Caleb said. “Shame he doesn’t have a life.”
“I was thinking the same thing. He’s here all the time.”
“Doesn’t he have a wife or girlfriend or something?” Caleb asked.
“I think this is his life.”
“Then again, with those skin problems maybe getting a girlfriend isn’t that easy,” Caleb said.
It wasn’t just his face, but his arms and back were covered with acne—big, ugly-looking zits.
“Yeah, it’s —”
The phone in Tony’s office started ringing. I yelled out for him, but between the music and the distance he couldn’t hear me.
“I’ll get the phone and you get Tony,” I said to Caleb.
The office door was open. I grabbed the ringing phone.
“Hello,” I said as I picked it up.
“Good morning. This isn’t Tony. Who is this?”
“No, sir, Coach Barnes,” I said. I’d recognized his voice. “This is Michael.”
“So, Moose, are you adding secretary to your role as team captain?” he asked.
“If that’s what it takes to win, I will.”
He laughed. “That’s the attitude, and as we both know, attitude leads to altitude. The better the attitude, the higher you’ll fly.”
“Yes, sir. Do you want me to get Tony?”
“If you could just tell him that I’ll be a little late today. I have a meeting down at the Rotary Club at noon. I’m going to try to convince them to put up funds to replace our tackling sled.”
“That would be great!” The old one was pretty beaten up.
“Only the best for the best,” he said. “Tell him I’ll be in around 1:00. Are you going to be there still?”
“If you want me to, I will.”
“I want you to. See you then. And Moose, I’m real proud of the way you’re leading by example. A coach couldn’t ask for a better captain.”
“Thank you, sir. See you at one o’clock.”
Chapter Nine
Coach closed the door, and the sound of the music playing in the weight room was muffled. He settled into the chair behind Tony’s desk. I took a seat across from him.
“You’re working really hard,” Coach Barnes said.
“Thanks. I’m trying my best.”
“Actually, everybody out there is trying his best,” he said, pointing out through the closed door. “Unfortunately, doing their best might not be good enough.”
I was confused. What did that mean?
“What I’m going to tell you has to stay between me and you. You can’t talk to the other players about this.”
“I won’t, not if you don’t want me to. You can trust me, sir.”
“I know I can, Moose.” He got up from his chair, circled around and sat on the edge of the desk, right in front of me.
“These are really good boys. They’re all working hard. What I don’t know, though, is, do they have enough to win?”
I was shocked. I’d never heard him talk about anything but success.
“I’m going to have more than a few boys on this squad who are going to be starters but really shouldn’t be. I just don’t have anybody better.”
“You tell them what they need to do and they’ll do it,” I said.
“It’s not that easy. They’d have to grow four