บท 61: Inner Strength

Even though Jackson still had to rest his leg, Tommy had convinced him that it'd be good to attend each and every practice, so that he could at least watch his team and understand the fundamental reasons for their drills, as well as give them all his support.

Jackson couldn't argue with his big brother, and did begin religiously attending practice, though for now, he kept well back on the sidelines.

He'd show up right before practice started, find a seat on the lone set of bleachers, and stay there throughout the whole session, keeping to himself, and keeping quiet.

The drills were still as intense as ever, and Coach Otsen was riding everyone as hard as he always did, with coaches Knight, Vasquez, and Carson making sure to keep everyone's spirits high and give an extra push to anyone who was lagging behind.

The one thing that had changed, however, was the fact that the JV team was handling these hellish practices much better than the start of training camp.

Even Frederick was now allowed to properly join in with the practices, and while he was the one who struggled the most, he was also offered the most support and encouragement, not just from the coaches but from his fellow teammates as well.

Kenny was still the leader of the JV squad, blazing a trail ahead of the pack, but Petey wasn't too far behind him now.

Petey looked more determined than ever, though it didn't look like Kenny's shining example was the driving motivator for the older boy. Whenever he got a break, Petey would constantly look over to watch the varsity squad run through their drills, namely, his eyes were always locked on Wesley's back.

The varsity player's themselves were well into their stride. Those few who had kept their weighted vests were able to keep up with the others who had shedded the excess weight, and their moral was through the roof thanks to their winning streak.

Shane was still their shining example, and his lead seemed to pull everyone along with him. They were happy to chase after his back.

Everyone's focus was on the upcoming games this weekend, and the teams standing in their way. No one had any time for the phantom watching over them on the sidelines, and when practice was over, that phantom was quick to leave.

Jackson hobbled away from the field as quickly as his crutches allowed, making his way to the nearby carpark, where Tommy was already waiting for him.

Tommy leaned over and pushed up the passenger seat. 'How'd it go?'

Jackson shovelled his crutches through to the backseat before he hopped into the car. He closed the door then sighed. 'Yeah, it went really well. The varisty team is looking unstoppable, and the JV players have found their groove too.'

Tommy looked him over before nodding and starting up the car. 'Well that's good. Imagine how much better and stronger they'll look when you're all healed and ready to play again.'

Jackson's mouth screwed up as if he'd just eaten something sour, but he didn't say anything. He didn't put a voice to his concerns about messing up the team's rhythm, or if they even needed him in the first place.

Tommy glanced over at Jackson but didn't pry any further. He put on some music from his phone through the aux cord, shuffling his Nu Metal playlist for the drive home.

When they got home, Tommy followed Jackson to his room. 'Hey, sit down. I wanna talk with you about something. Oh, and I've got something for you too.'

Jackson was a little confused, but intrigued as he sat on the edge of his bed, laying his crutches across it. 'Okay. What is it?'

'Wait right there.' Tommy flashed a grin before leaving the room. He wouldn't be gone for long, and when he returned, he carried with him a small dumbbell and a tennis ball.

Jackson only looked even more confused before Tommy spoke up. 'Look, I know you can't run around or jump, or even really walk right now. But that doesn't mean you can't work out completely. Plus, we can't let your hands rot away for months.'

He passed over the dumbbell, which was five pounds in weight. 'Just to start with,' Tommy said.

Jackson took it in one hand, looking over the piece of equipment, getting a feel for the weight of it in his grip. He then looked at Tommy with a raised brow.

Tommy laughed and leaned against the wall opposite Jackson. 'You're gonna do some bicep curls, while we talk. So get started. Up and down, focus on making smooth, controlled movements, especially when you're guiding it back down.'

'How long am I doing this for?' Jackson started doing just as he was instructed, keeping his arm steady and body still as he pulled the weight up to his chest.

'For as long as it takes to answer my questions.'

Jackson was still confused, but gave a short nod.

'Alright. First, what do you think are the qualities, the skills, that a Receiver needs to be great?'

Jackson was surprised by the question, expecting more of a personal interrogation.

'Keep that arm moving,' Tommy said.

Jackson shook his head and put his arm back into motion, curling the dumbbell repeatedly. 'Uhh… I mean, a great Receiver needs to have good size, they need to be fast, jump high, good at running routes, maybe elusiveness? But most importantly catching the ball.'

'Good. Speaking of… catch!' Tommy tossed the tennis ball at Jackson, who shifted back a bit but managed to catch the ball in his free hand. 'Very good,' Tommy said. 'Don't stop lifting that weight.' He then held his hand open, wanting the ball back.

Jackson passed it back. 'Now, switch hands,' Tommy said. Jackson did so. 'Good. Adding on to your answer, I'd say control over your body and balance are also key aspects; good footwork for sideline catches, and the strength to maintain your position and keep your opponent away from the apex of ball's flight.'

Jackson nodded and caught another ball toss more smoothly this time.

'But also, awareness, the ability to perceive the defence and find the holes and weaknesses in it, like we've been talking about with the game film. But, the most important aspect, right up there with catching, is heart.'

Jackson blinked, almost dropping the next toss. Tommy smiled and tilted his head. 'How many of these qualities do you think a great Receiver needs to possess?'

Jackson thought for a moment, still curling the dumbbell and occasionally catchin the tennis ball throughout '…All of them,' he finally said.

'Impossible,' Tommy said. '…Well, maybe not if you're Calvin Johnson, but he was the best.'

Jackson frowned. 'How many do they need then?'

'Swap hands.' Tommy took a breath before answering. 'Look, good hands—the ability to catch—is the most important skill, but not everyone needs to have hands like Larry Fitzgerald. And heart, everyone needs heart, otherwise they'll never reach their full potential. But other than those, you could only need one or two skills that you excel at, as long as you're better than anyone else in the world when it comes to those.'

Jackson stayed quiet, listening intently.

'Think of Tyreek Hill. He's not big, he's not strong. And while he's got good hands, he can run a good route, and he's got good fundamentals, the one thing that makes him one of the best in the world, is his unmatched speed.'

Jackson nodded.

'Or then you have the inverse of that, and you get someone like Rob Gronkowski, who might be the best TE of all time. And of course he's not lacking in any department, but it was his size and strength, and how he could utilise those to their utmost that made him what he was. When you look at the greats, yes, they're all good at the important stuff, but they focus on what makes them unique, they hone in on their greatest strength and they excell at that better than anyone else, and THAT is what makes them the best.'

Tommy had stopped tossing the ball to Jackson, and Jackson had stopped curling the dumbbell.

'Hey, swap hands again.'

Tommy tossed the ball while Jackson was swapping hands, and he bobbled the catch before snatching it up against his chest.

'Now. What do you think your biggest strength is, little bro? What's the one thing you can do better than anyone else? What do you need to focus on and hone until you're the best in the world at it?'

Jackson was quiet, thinking back to his time playing football throughout the years. He tried to remember all his touchdowns, all his big catches, the best moments of his "career".

He had always felt faster than everyone else, like no one would be able to keep up with them, that was were most of his success came from, when he felt the most alive and exhiliarating, blowing by someone and leaving them behind.

He opened his mouth to answer when the memory of his speed failing him popped into his head. He was back at this summer's pro camp. A one on one drill. He had the step he needed. In the past, that was all he needed and he'd be gone, no one could catch him. No one but HIM.

Jackson shuddered, dropping his arm down and letting the weight rest against his bed. The tennis ball bounced off his chest, as if he hadn't even seen it. He closed his mouth and bit his tongue.

Tommy frowned, looking his brother over quite worriedly. 'Jackson?...'

'I…I don't think I have any strengths.'

Tommy's face dropped. He let out a heavy sigh then moved over to pick up the tennis ball that had bounced to the floor. 'Come on Jack… that's a load of crap. I know you're special. Just…Just keeping searching inside yourself and you'll find it.'

Tommy patted his brother on the shoulder then moved to the door. He stopped and looked back at Jackson. 'I know you've got it in you to be special. Just keep thinking about it, okay? And don't overdo it with the weight, just, keep doing it throughout the day when you get some spare time.'

Tommy left the tennis ball on the drawer by the door before leaving.

Jackson sighed and moved the dumbbell to the floor with a heavy thud. He laid back in his bed, letting his weary head and arms rest as he closed his eyes.