Jackson

I knew something was off the second Coach didn’t start practice by yelling.

That alone was unsettling.

We were lined up on the field, helmets under our arms, the air sharp and cold in that early-fall way that meant Friday nights were going to start hurting again, and Coach was just… standing there. Arms crossed. Looking at us like he was deciding which one of us he wanted to psychologically destroy first.

That’s never a good sign.

“Alright,” he finally said. ...