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Prologue

Tiller

“Raine!” Coach V’s bark was as fa on a Friday night or Saturday afternoon The probleallons of blood rushing through my ears I could have sworn I felt my heartbeat in my brain

“I’m fine, Coach,” I mumbled Only, it sounded like “Mah fo” for some reason

“Like hell you are Q-bie! Get your ass over here with the ain”

I wasn’t sure bonked was a terain, I was a rookie What the hell did I know?

I turned onsquatted down a safe enough distance away to avoid any voh he only needed to hiss for ue noto eat Remember we had a little conversation about it when I recruited your sorry ass?”

I tried to say, “Yes, Coach,” but it came out as more dry-heaves

“So we had a conversation, you and et your nutrition in order Hell, I even suggested you hire a professional meal service or some shit You remember what you said?”

I coughed and rolled back to ainstItfor the NFL was a dreaiven my left nut for a different dream

“I said I’d handle it, Coach”

“Daht you did You said you’d handle it And here we are only four gaular season and you’ve passed out three ti, son?”

He didn’t give me time to answer before he continued