Rax Quits The Team

Rax stood outside Coach Land’s door and swallowed hard. Setting his backpack at the door, he placed his Navy JROTC cover or hat on top. Wiping his palms on his Navy JROTC pants, he knocked. Might as well get this over with, he thought. Coach Land was a good man, fair... but he was athletic director and a coach and one of his dad’s closest friends.

“It’s open!”

Rax opened the door and peered around it.

Coach Land’s face lit up, seeing one of his favorite players. “Come in, buddy.”

Rax stepped in and pushed the door closed. “Do you have a minute? I wanted to talk about football try-outs.”

“Of course, take a seat.” He gestured to a couple of metal chairs in front of his desk. “What’s on your mind? You’re looking great out there, Rax. I can’t believe how much you’ve developed over the summer.”

“I try to always do my best, coach,” he started.

“You have nothing to worry about, Rax. You’ll start on JV, but I expect you’ll get some varsity time in, maybe even as early as this year.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk about, coach.”

When Land looked at him, he looked away, down at his feet.

“Spit it out, son.”

Rax looked back at him. “I plan to come to practice and give you everything inside of me.”

“You always do.”

“I don’t want to be on the team, coach.”

Coach Land leaned back, eyes narrowing. “Come again?”

“I love being around you and the other coaches. I love my team, but, coach, I hate the game. I hate football and I want out, but I can’t throw try-outs because my dad is there every day. And I can’t just quit because, well, he’s hard enough on me when I’m being the perfect son. Quitting anything, especially football, will make life hard. I mean, it’ll be hard enough if I don’t make the team, but. . .”

“Your dad just wants what’s best for you, Rax. He sees it, all the coaches see it. You’ll get a scholarship to any SEC school out there.”

“Coach, I’m not bragging, but my GPA and my extra-curricular activities will get me into almost any school I want. I’ve got a shot at the Naval Academy and West Point. I had to turn down Governor’s Honors School in STEM because of sports. Please, can you cut me? Please?”

“No. Rax, we won state last year and this year’s team looks even better. You’re a freshman and you’re as good as all my varsity quarterbacks and they all have top schools watching them. You and Dean? Man, I’ve watched you two play since rec-league and I’ve never seen two players who instinctively know what to do. Listen, I know your dad puts a lot on you, but I’ll talk to him.”

Horror filled him and he stared, mouth agape. “No,” he whispered, his voice strained from the thought. “Please, if he knows we had this conversation, I really don’t know what he’d do. Please. It’s okay. I’ll continue to give you everything I’ve got, I will. Just, please, don’t say anything.”

He walked out of the coach’s office and through the locker room, but turned to head toward the back, where his locker was located. The conversation didn’t go the way he wanted it. The cheerleaders had dye-cut his last name, Faulkner, out of photos of different games using their own pictures to create the “k” but his favorite one was the “F” made with a picture of him, Dean, and defensive lineman Jack Hines. Him sandwiched between those two. He spun the lock until he it released. Inside, a plethora of index cards and pictures cascaded down the door.

I can do all things in Christ who strengthens me. Phil 4:13

I know the plans I have for you-so quit worrying- God

The Lord is a warrior, so am I.

For God so loved me, He sent His only begotten son so if I believe in Him I will not perish but will live forever.

He closed his eyes and shook his head, hoping to force everything back. Taking his toiletry bag, he pulled out a small razor blade and, lifting his pants leg, he paused. He didn’t need to do this. God hadn’t abandoned him. He could get through one more season. Maybe he should listen to coach. If he ended up at an SEC school on a football scholarship, maybe his dad would get off his back. Or, maybe, he could push forward with his plan to get ahead during summer school.

“Whatcha doing, stud?”

Rax thought he’d have to grab his heart and most of his skeleton and shove them back into place. He looked over at Dean Trenton, his closest friend and phenomenal wide receiver.

“Nothing really,” he said lamely.

“You’re hiding back here with a razor blade.”

Rax sighed and wilted. “I have this hair bump-“

“Dude, I will vomit, stop. Seriously, you missed second period. I was worried.”

“I had to talk to coach.”

“About?”

“What this season will look like.”

“I think you and I pretty much have our spots secured.”

He nodded and put everything back in his bag, shoving it on the top shelf before closing the door and locking it.

“What are we doing at church tonight?” He asked.

Dean thought for a moment. “James. Yeah, we’re starting in James. I hate James.”

“The epistle of straw, which could be either interpreted as dry or stupid, but I think the haters just didn’t like having their toes stepped on,” Rax said. He wondered if he should go into the etiology to support his comment, but this was Dean, who really didn’t care about getting deeper into those finer points. He liked it straight and uncomplicated.

“It’s a tough book,” Dean said. “And, yeah, my toes hurt.”

“Count it all for joy.” Rax elbowed him and gave him a cheeky grin.

“I’m gonna count Mrs. Lily’s wings for pure joy,” Dean laughed.

Rax lit up. “Is it wing night?”

Ms. Lily’s wings ranged from baked to double coated and fried, from plain to “Meet your Maker” hot. The hot honey mustard barbeque was his favorite.

Rax stood at the door of Coach Land’s office, wishing he could shrink more into the thick Carhart coat the Watson’s bought for him over the weekend. If he was going to be helping on the farm, he needed the right gear. He tried to tell Mrs. Lily second hand was fine. His mom volunteered at a local thrift store where most of the upper class donated their stuff because proceeds benefited animals, but she said work boots should be new and everyone should have a good coat. He had a feeling she didn’t want to risk seeing his mom. Mrs. Lily wasn’t one to get testy, but when he showed up on their doorstep wet and cold, a black eye, broken nose and bloody lip-all gifts from his father, he sensed a slow burning anger stirring in her.

She bought him a couple of outfits and promised to have more when he came home today. Now he needed to handle this. He knocked.

“Yeah?”

He opened the door. “Hey, coach.”

Coach Land rose, concern etched in the wrinkles of his face. “Rax, what happened? Who did this?”

“My dad.”

“Your dad?”

He nodded. “Yeah, so I’m not living at home anymore. I’m in a good, safe place.”

“Do you need anything?”

“Prayer is always nice, but I’m staying with my pastor and his family. They're good people.”

“What happened?”

Rax gulped, but decided he was going to have to get used to this conversation. “I was outed, not by choice. And who knew that being a great football player wasn’t enough to overcome that.”

“Outted?”

“I’m gay, coach. I also appreciate all you’ve done for me. I just wanted you to know that. Um, I think Rodriquez will be an outstanding quarterback, and I’m willing to work with him, but I’m done.”

“Don’t let a fight with your dad upend your gifts, your talent, Rax.”

Rax smiled. “I’m not. I’m going after my gifts and my talents. Football just isn’t one of them.”

The coach looked around nervously. “You know, we don’t care that you, um, -“

“Like guys? That’s not why I’m quitting, coach. I’m planning to graduate high school early.”

“Then?”

“Georgia Tech. Either mechanical engineering or aerospace engineering. If I graduate early, I can get two years of college on the state’s dime. Then I can apply my scholarships to Tech.”

“Don’t let one disagreement with your dad put you on a bad path,” the coach said. “He’ll come to accept it and you.”

“I actually don’t care if he accepts it, Coach. He threw me out and I’m going to live my life. I’m done with him... and football.”

Coach nodded, and Rax knew Lands would call Dean into his office and talk to him. If that didn’t work, then he’d rope in the rest of the team. He’d get to Dean before the coach would. Dean already knew he was living with the Watsons now.