A Dream Come True

"That's a load of crap. Anyone can learn it." I told him, "It sounds to me like he just plain didn't want to do it."

"And that's exactly why we're having this conversation now," Coach Larson laughed, "So; will you do it?"

"Do it, Mike," Rick grinned, "I think you'll like, and you definitely won't have to worry about Terry Watkins coming after you for revenge?"

"You won't have to worry about that whether you do it or not," Coach Larson strongly replied, "But I really could use your help, Mike."

"Okay, Coach," I smiled, "I'll do it as long as it doesn't cut into my study time."

"Thank you, son," Coach Larson smiled, relieved, "I'll get back to you and let you know when I want you to come out to the field house. Is that okay with you?"

"Sure," I said, "That will be fine with me."

"Alright then," Coach Larson heartily grinned, getting up to leave my dorm room, "You'll be hearing from me soon, and thanks again, Mike."

"No problem, sir," I chuckled, as I escorted him to the door, "I just hope it helps the team."

"Good man," Coach grinned, "I knew I could count on you," and then he closed the door behind him on the way out.

"Holy shit, Mike," Rick grinned, "I never knew you were such a bad ass."

"I'm not," I quickly told him, "I just defended myself, that's all."

"Maybe so," Rick laughed, "But for you to get the attention of the Head Coach of the football team, Coach David Larson himself; now that is major...really major."

"Nah," I dismissively chuckled, "It's no big deal, well; not to me it isn't."

"You keep telling yourself that," Rick chuckled, "I've got a strange feeling that things are about to change for you my friend. I only hope you don't forget about me."

"Gimme a break," I laughed...

~~~~~~

The next day, Friday, Rick and I woke up and went to the cafeteria and had breakfast first thing that morning. After I'd eaten and my belly was full, I had to go to the bookstore to pick up a book that I was going to need for my Political Science class.

It was a book that wasn't so much one of the many college books that I already had. This was a novel called, "Out of the Darkness", that was written by a guy named Gerry Lundy. He was a combat veteran himself who seemed to have a great knowledge of the facts contained in the book.

I was surprised when I later found out that even though it was considered to be a historical fiction, the facts that were in this particular book had all actually occurred during the war in Vietnam, and for some unknown reason, weren't in most of the scholastic history books; hence the reason this book he become required reading for all incoming freshman.

After I'd found the book, I went to pay for it, and working in the book store behind the cash register, was a girl that I thought was more beautiful than any girl I'd ever seen in my whole life. She stood five feet, six inches tall, and had long dark hair which flowed to her waist. Her measurements seemed to fit her height, and I was certain that she weighed no more than a hundred and fifteen to a hundred and twenty pounds at the very most.

She wore glasses and from what I could tell, her eyes seemed to be the same color as mine. I tried to talk to her while I paid for my book, but she seemed like she was a little shy, and if anyone could understand that, I most certainly could.

Still though, right before I left the bookstore, I made sure that I knew her name, and when I asked her, her pretty face seemed to brighten when she replied, "My name is Amy, Amy Ross; what's yours?"

"Mike," I quietly replied smiling, "Mike Masterson."

"It's nice to meet you, Mike Masterson," she brightly grinned, "I hope you have a nice day."

"You, too," I grinned, "Maybe I'll see you later, Amy."

"Hmm," she knowingly smiled, "I hope so...I'd really like that."

"Me, too," I grinned, and then left the bookstore and headed back to my dorm room.

~~~~~~

Chapter Two

I hadn't been back in my dorm room for more than ten minutes when I heard a knock on my door. And when I opened it, there was a guy standing there dressed in athletic clothing which bore the U of H logo, who I correctly assumed, was one of the assistant coaches.

"Hello, I'm looking for Mike Masterson," he cordially said, "Are you him?"

"Yes, I am," I politely replied, "What can I do for you?"

"It's nice to meet you, Mike, I'm Coach Peter McGavin," he replied, extending his hand, "I'm one of the defensive coaches, and Coach Larson sent me to come and escort you to his office so, will you come with me please?"

"No problem," I told him, as we shook hands, "If you'll give me a minute to change into a tee shirt, and my ghee pants, I'll be ready to go, if that's okay with you."

"Take your time," he said, "Coach Larson said that you were very good at what you do."

"I don't know how he knows that," I chuckled, "He's never seen me fight."

"Maybe not," Coach McGavin chuckled, "But according to Tommy Bell, and Randy Squire, you move faster than the speed of light."

"I hope you'll excuse me," I said, "But who're Tommy Bell and Randy Squire?"

"Oh, that's right, you didn't know their names," he knowingly laughed, "They're the two guys who were in the gym with Terry Watkins when you knocked some sense into that hard ass head of his."

"Well, I'm good enough to defend myself," I humbly replied, "But I'm really not faster than the speed of light; believe me, Coach."

"Relax, kid," Coach McGavin laughed, "I've got a feeling that you're going to be just what this team needs to come out on top at the end of the season."

"I don't know," I said, pulling my shirt over my head after I'd changed pants, and tied the laces on my shoes, "Maybe."

~~~~~~

I got into my truck and followed Coach McGavin's car to the other side of the campus where the football stadium and the athletic offices were located. Then once we got out of our respective vehicles, I followed him into the field house which sat between the football stadium and the practice fields.

~~~~~~

As I walked beside Coach McGavin down the corridor of the field house, I saw who I correctly assumed were football players looking at me with angry faces. I could tell that they all knew who I was, and to be honest, it wasn't really anger that I saw on their faces, it looked more like contempt than anything else.

"Knock it off," Coach McGavin growled at them, "Terry got his ass whipped for doing something stupid so, stop trying to intimidate this guy."

"Don't worry about it, Coach," I said, loudly enough for all of them to hear, "I'm not intimidated one bit."

"Good thing," Coach McGavin laughed, stopping in front of Coach Larson's office door and opening it, "Follow me, kid," and I did just that.

~~~~~~

"Mike," Coach Larson smiled, as I entered his office, "It's good to see you, son; I'm glad you could make it."

"I told you that I would be here," I replied, "And I've only got two things that are the most important to me, Coach."

"Is that right?" he asked smiling, "And just what might those two things be?"

"My word, and my balls," I told him, "And I don't break either one of them for anyone."

"I told you, didn't I?" he grinned at Coach McGavin, "I think this guy is going to be the kick in the ass that these players need to get them motivated."

"That's the thing, Coach," I said, "I still don't know what it is that you want me to do with your guys."

"That's easy," Coach Larson smiled, "I want you to teach my quarterbacks how to evade the rush, and I want you to teach my receivers how to keep from being tackled."

"But that's football," I explained, "I practice Martial Arts, two total different animals."

"And I've got this feeling that tells me that you can find a way to merge the two of them together, Mike," he explained," Besides, you're the first person ever, to get away from Terry Watkins without so much as a scratch. I guess what I'm asking you to do is teach my guys the difference between brawn and brains. Are you up to it, Mike?"

"I can do that," I told him, "But I don't know how much good it's going to do."

"I've got a lot of faith in you, kid," Coach Larson grinned, "And if anyone can do it, I've got an overwhelming feeling that it's you."

"If you say so," I replied, "Tell your players to line up on the practice field in their sweat pants and tee shirts, and I also want them to be bare footed."

"Bare footed," Coach Larson asked, "Why?"

"I thought you trusted me, Coach," I plainly said, "Maybe my being here isn't such a good idea after all."

"I'm sorry, you're right," he chuckled, "I'll have them out there in ten minutes. Coach McGavin, would do the honors?"

"Yes, sir," he knowingly grinned, "It would be my pleasure," and then he left Coach Larson's office on his way to the locker room."

~~~~~~

Ten minutes later I was face to face with the starting line up for this year's football team; and as requested, they were all dressed in tee shirts, sweat pants, as well as being bare footed. Coach Larson quickly got their attention and said, "Okay ladies, this year we're going to do things a little differently."

Then pointing at me, he continued, "For all intents and purposes, this is Coach Masterson. He is going to teach you how to not only maintain your focus, but also how to keep from getting your asses kicked on the field. I want everyone to do exactly as he tells you, or face me if not. Are we clear on this one?"

"Come on, Coach, one of the guys, who I later found out was the starting middle linebacker, complained, "He's a fucking freshman. What the hell is he gonna teach us, for Christ's sake?"

"Coach Masterson," Larson loudly asked, "Would you care to demonstrate?" Then he leaned over and quietly told me, "Don't hold back when you teach this one, okay?"

"I'd love to, Coach," I loudly replied, "Ask him to step forward."

And when I was face to face with the guy who'd insulted me, I looked at him and said, "I want you to try and tackle me."

"Your ass," he viciously laughed, "I'll break every bone in your body, dude."

"Go ahead," I taunted him, "Take your best shot...punk."

"Okay," he sneered, "But it's your funeral," and then he lunged toward me.

I quickly side stepped him, and after his body had passed by me, I used my hands to direct his body onto the ground...hard enough to knock the wind out of him.

"Are there any more takers?" I asked the rest of the group, while their peer was lying on the ground, rolling and writhing back and forth, trying to catch his breath.

"That's all well and good," one of them cockily sneered, "But you can't take all of us, bad ass."

"Maybe not," I defensively replied, "But I promise you that I'll kill the first four of you so; you decide amongst yourselves who wants to die first, asshole," which elicited laughter from not only Terry Watkins, Tommy Bell, and Randy Squire, but all of the coaching staff as well.

After all of the hoopla died down, and I was finally taken seriously, I spent the rest of the morning instructing the quarterbacks and receivers how to legally use their hands and forearms to do exactly what they'd seen me do at the beginning of class to the middle line backer, whose name, I later found out, was Gary Moses.

After the morning session was over, Terry Watkins sought me out in the locker room and with a warm smile and a friendly handshake, he said, "I'm really sorry about how I acted towards you in the gym the other day, Mike. I was very wrong, and I guess I've been that way for a long time now so, thanks for taking it easy on me, brother."

"No problem," I grinned, "As long as you don't do that to anyone else, then we're good to go, you and me."

"No sweat, man," he laughed, "If you ever need me for anything, I don't want you to hesitate to ask, okay?"

"I will," I smiled, "The same thing goes for you, too. Now go get a shower and wash the grass outta your hair."

"Smart ass," he laughed, and then took off toward the locker rooms.

"I think that went very well, Mike, "Coach Larson grinned, "Thank you for everything."

"It was fun," I lightheartedly replied, "If you need me for anything else just ask."

"Oh, this is only the start," Coach said, "I'd like for you to do this at least twice a week until football season is over, please?"

"I don't mind at all," I replied smiling, "But like I said when we talked yesterday, my studies come first, okay?"

"No problem, Mike," he grinned, patting me on the shoulder, "We'll see you on Tuesday then?"

"Sure," I chuckled, "What the hell."

"Great," he replied, as I walked away, "Thanks a lot...Coach."

~~~~~~

When I got back to my dorm room, it was nearing lunchtime, and because I'd more or less been working out the entire morning while I was teaching, I was in definite need of a shower so; after taking off my dirty clothes and then grabbing my shaving kit and a towel, I headed for the showers.

~~~~~~

The warm water felt good on my aching muscles, but knowing the showers like I did, I knew that the supply hot water would run out rather quickly. Still though, it didn't stop me from enjoying the therapeutic feeling of not only the warm water on my body, but also the steam as I inhaled it, loosening the small bit of congestion I had.

After I stepped out of the shower and dried off, I wrapped the towel around my body in order to be able to stand at the sink, using the mirror to shave without nicking my face, and/or God forbid, having to use something, primarily that damn irritating styptic pencil that my father gave me, to stop the bleeding.

~~~~~~

I'd been gone from my dorm room for no more than twenty minutes when I got back to find that an envelope with my name on it had been slipped under my door while I was in the shower, and was sitting in the middle of the floor.

When I picked it up to examine it further, you can only imagine my surprise when I saw that the insignia of the Beta Kappa Tau fraternity that was eloquently embossed in the upper left hand corner of the envelope. This was a very well known fraternity on campus, as it was reserved exclusively for the athletes, primarily football players. And as I'd already heard, it was also well known for throwing the best parties with only the prettiest of girls in attendance.

I couldn't, for the life of me, figure out why they had even sent me a letter of any kind, much less placed it under my door. But still, I opened it anyway and pulled the letter out of it. I couldn't believe what I was reading in the letter, which said,

Coach Masterson,

We, the members of Beta Tau Delta fraternity, cordially extend an invitation to you to attend a party that is being thrown in your honor at the Beta house tonight at Seven Thirty, p.m. Someone will be around your dorm room to pick you up at Seven p.m. and personally take you to the party.

It is our wish that you come and enjoy this evening with us, where there will be dinner, drinks, and dancing. This is our way of saying thank you for the things that you've taught us thus far, and will hopefully continue to teach us in the near future.

"Respectfully, Terry L. Watkins, President of Beta Tau Delta, University of Houston

"Well, I'll be damned," I said to myself. I wondered if they might've been up to something, but I decided to go along with it and except their invitation at face value. I then picked up the telephone that was in our dorm room and called their fraternity house to except the invitation I'd just received. And it was just my luck that none other than Terry Watkins himself answered the phone when I called.

"Beta House," he answered, "Terry Watkins speaking."

"Hey Terry," I grinned, "This is Mike Masterson, I just called to say thank you, and that I accept your invitation to the party tonight."

"Oh, hey, Coach," he jovially replied, "I'm glad that you decided to come tonight. We're all really looking forward to having you over here."

"Look," I said, "I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but why are you guys inviting me? I mean, I'm nobody special."

"Don't say that, Mike," he gently replied, "We were all so excited after practice this morning, and this is our way of saying thanks, my friend. Please, I promise you that nothing will happen to you," then he laughed, "Besides; none of us are stupid enough to mess with you after your little demonstration with Gary Moses this morning."

"It's not about that at all," I tried to explain, "I'm not a violent person, Terry. I studied the martial arts so that I wouldn't have to fight."

"I understand that completely," he grinned, "That still doesn't mean that we're not grateful to have you as a coach...Coach."

"Come on, man," I laughed, "You can dispense with the Coach shit any time."

"Not in this lifetime," he good naturedly chuckled; "We'll see you tonight, and don't even think about backing out, okay?"

"Okay," I grinned, "You win; I'll see you guys tonight then."

"Good deal," he chuckled, and then right before he hung the phone up, told me, "Oh, and dress casually."

Right after I got off the phone with Terry, my stomach growled just then, loudly enough to wake the dead, making me laugh, and to myself, say, "Alright, I'm on my way to feed you so, shut up."

~~~~~~

I hadn't seen my room mate, Rick, since right after breakfast that morning, which, I wasn't really worried about. I figured I would run into him sooner or later anyway. Hell, knowing him, he was probably with some girl somewhere, and that was okay, too.

But I was still excited about the upcoming party and I couldn't wait to tell him. However, the thought that was foremost on my mind was getting some lunch so; I was relieved when I finally walked through the cafeteria doors.

I went through the serving line rather quickly, getting a big barbecue sandwich, with some fries, a nice sized piece of fresh apple pie for dessert, and a tall glass of milk to wash it all down with.

As I scanned the room for a place to sit and eat, I still don't know whether it was luck, or perhaps divine intervention, but I saw the beautiful Amy Ross sitting all alone at a table, with her nose in a book while she ate her lunch. Needless to say, I made a beeline to her table, and when I approached her, I quietly asked, "Do you mind if I join you, Miss Ross?"

"Of course not," she sweetly giggled, "But only if you call me Amy. Miss Ross sounds so stuffy."

"Thank you," I smiled, taking a seat across the table from her, "It was really nice meeting you earlier."

"I enjoyed meeting you, too," she smiled, "I was hoping that I would see you again."

Just looking at this stunning beauty who was now sitting across the same table from me, made my heart seemingly skip a beat, and the fact that she was acting like she was interested in me made everything that much better.

However, before I could reply, three guys that I recognized from practice this morning stopped by our table, patting me on the back, saying, "Hey, Coach, are you going to be at the party at the Beta House tonight? It's going to be a good one, dude."

"I'll see you guys later, "I politely dismissed them, "Take care fellas."

"Coach?" she inquired, "I thought you were a student here."

"I am a student here," I replied, and it was then that I filled her in on everything that had taken place; starting with the fracas that had occurred in the gym with Terry Watkins a couple of days prior, as well as how and why Coach Larson had enlisted my help with the football team.

"So, that means that you're a jock then," she disgustedly replied, "I can't stand you guys with your cave man mentalities, accompanied by your penchants for drinking alcohol until you pass out, not to mention the disgusting disregard that you have for women, " and once she said that, she abruptly stood up and left the table, not looking back.

"Wait a minute; I'm not a jock," I said, but it was apparent that my words had fallen on deaf ears, because she continued walking away, "I'm just trying to help...the team."