Pat Warren - Bright Hopes

“Okay, then. Let’s run that play over again. On three, B.J., and I want to see some blocking, defense.” She jogged off the field and turned to watch them move into formation.

Pam was hunched down observing, so deeply absorbed she didn’t hear anyone approach. The play went off beautifully, and B.J.’s receiver, Todd, caught the throw and ran clear. “That’s more like it,” she shouted out.

“Where’d you learn that play?” Patrick asked from behind her.

Startled, she nearly fell over from her awkward position. Rising, she glared at him. “What are you doing, sneaking up on me?”

“I didn’t sneak. I walked around the field in plain view. I repeat, where’d you learn that play?”

Pam wiped her damp palms on her sweatpants. “What difference does it make? It works and that’s what’s important.”

“The plays Dale and I taught them last year worked, too, and most of the team know them backward and forward.”

“If they worked so well, why did the team wind up in sixth place in a field of eight?”

Patrick made a dismissing gesture. “Couldn’t be helped. We had a lot of injuries, our best running back moved out of town halfway through the season, and our kicker contracted mono and we didn’t have a backup man.”

She shook her head. “Tough luck. Each position should have a backup and every team has injuries. Let’s face it, McCormick’s methods were outdated and unimaginative.” She didn’t add that she lumped Patrick’s routines in with the retired coach’s, but she could see by his stormy expression that he got the message.

Becoming aware that the boys, waiting for the next call, were moving closer and enjoying their heated exchange, Pam turned to them. “Take a water break, guys,” she yelled out.

As the players strolled off the field, Patrick got hold of his temper. “Listen, there’s no guarantee your new ways will work when these guys face other, more experienced teams, so don’t be so damn cocky. And don’t you be undermining my methods to them. I coach quite a few of the boys in basketball, and I don’t want you messing up their thinking.”

“I haven’t said one word against you to those boys. Which is more than I can say about you and the way you’ve just happened to run into several of them and pump them for information.”

Patrick felt his face flush and could have cheerfully popped the kid who’d blabbed to her. “I’ve never talked detrimentally about you.”

Pam picked up her clipboard. “Maybe not, but you haven’t exactly spoken up on my behalf, either. Listen, we’re supposed to be on the same side, working for the same school. You could have encouraged them to give me a chance, to try things my way. But you chose not to. All right. I’ll win them over without you. It’s just a damn shame your ego’s so monumentally big you can’t accept that there are several ways to build a winning team and that yours might not be the only way.”

Turning on her heel, she started across the field.

“Wait a minute,” Patrick called after her. “I want to talk to you.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk to you, ” Pam shouted over her shoulder as she walked toward the drinking fountain. What she really would have liked was to pour a pitcher of cold water over the arrogant Patrick Kelsey’s head.

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