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Nixon

Sweat dripped downfor an open receiver There Hendrix broke free The guy was a machine

I drew the ball back and fired it down the field My heartbeat filled my ears for the few seconds it was airborne

He caught it

I raised my fist in a quick pump as he ran it into the end zone, our own defense on his heels

Not bad for the first day of training camp

Coach called practice for the day, and I ripped off ear—I probably sweat ht in water every day—but it was hoht years Sure, the huh Raptor through and through Always had been, and God-and-contract-willing, I alould be

I waved to the fans that packed the sidelines behind the rope and started back toward The Barn—our giant training facility

“Thoughts?” Roman asked as he tucked his hel back in the NFL, and one of my closest friends

“He thinks I’ his knuckles over Rorin Guy had run at least fifty yards to catch up to us and wasn’t even out of breath

Shit, I felt old, and I was only thirty

“Fuck off,” Ro “Seriously, though What do you think, Nixon?”

“It’s the first day, and you gotta ruin it by asking Negative-Nixon what he thinks?” Hendrix groaned

“Noble!” A woman yelled from the sidelines

I flashed a smile and waved, because that was part of my job, then turned back toward my friends “I think the offensive line is sloppy, the rookies have o before we’re cohesive”

“Way to crush a guy’s ego” Roman clutched at his chest

“Fucking told you,” Hendrix laughed

“Sloppy?” Baker challenged as he jogged by “Only because Padilla over therebackward, and gestured to the space in front of his stomach with a smirk

Rohed

“Cut the shit,” I ordered