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Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781481767774 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | AuthorHouse |
| Publication date: | 06/28/2013 |
| Pages: | 174 |
| Product dimensions: | 6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 0.40(d) |
Read an Excerpt
MORE THAN A GAME
By MARILYN JOSEPH
AuthorHouse
Copyright © 2013 Marilyn JosephAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4817-6777-4
CHAPTER 1
Mike Jacobs was nobody's fool.
At 6'4" and 334 pounds, he had the lumbering albeit overweight appearance of an outside linebacker, the position he once held at the University of Illinois. As a sophomore he was a starter. During his senior year his stats included 55 tackles, 6 assists, 14.5 sacks and one touchdown, toppling collegiate records for a season.
The former linebacker had only one professional ambition. Since he was a child growing up in rural southern Illinois, he aspired to be a NFL head coach. He had no intention whatsoever of playing for any of the thirty-two NFL teams. Rather, he would be a head coach for one of them.
Mike had added fifty pounds since leaving Illinois in 2003 at the age of 23. The additional weight plus his non-descript appearance were perhaps the main reasons he did not have the groupies so many other football standouts had. That was okay with him, though. He wanted no distractions as he began his ascent, first as an assistant to the defensive coordinator for the Tennessee Titans and then as the Miami Dolphins defensive coordinator three years later. He was, in essence, on the fast track toward his professional goal.
He had been burned by a casual relationship when he was at Illinois. There, he was a draw. Women flocked around him as they walked to classes. The more forward ones sat next to him without invitation at Black Dog Smoke & Ale House in Urbana as he ate his usual, pulled pork sandwiches and smoked sweet potatoes.
Celeste Loman, a pretty junior majoring in Kinesiology, attended to his every word, laughed at his awkward attempts at joking and occasionally just stared lovingly at him as he met his Illini fandom who knew he was very special at his craft.
He found the time to take her to a couple of movies, but mostly they met in Campus Town for snacks after his grueling football practices. It had been too long since he felt so happy, realizing Celeste was the genuine article. She was easy to talk to, making him feel there was potential for his happiness and content beyond the stadium.
Like everything else except for football, Celeste was lost to him when she met Safety, Bill Collins. When she graduated she and Bill married and moved to Buffalo where he was contracted to play for the Bills.
So, the game remained his focus. The only distractions were the times he saw his parents, when he took his boat out to ride the waters of Lake Superior in July and the time he spent each night throwing balls to his German Shepherd, Shep, to retrieve. The latter two were his therapy.
Though he was the second youngest NFL head coach, his salary reflected that of those who had been at that position for a dozen years, four point eight million a year plus bonuses.
However, judging from the Spartan way he lived, people not knowing him (impossible in Omaha) would have presumed he was a middle class, blue collar worker just scraping by. His ranch style, two bedroom home, located two miles from Mutual of Omaha Arena, was in a neighborhood dotted with front yard Foreclosure signs.
He never had time to furnish the interior. A La-Z-Boy and a 47" LG HDTV were the only pieces of furniture in the living room. As for the kitchen, as long as he had bologna, peanut butter, chips, Beer Nuts, mayo, Pepsi and bread, he was content with where and how he lived.
Like clockwork, Mike had dinner five nights a week at the Olive Garden. Even there his playbook was like another appendage; he was rarely seen without it. Play-calling was his forte. There were often guffaws about his playbook being his girlfriend, possibly the only thing he could relate to except for Shep. Jon Gruden, an ESPN commentator, once remarked, "Jacobs probably takes it to bed, at least until he can replace it there with the Lombardi Trophy."
Over the years he developed his way of eating Fettuccine Alfredo at the Olive Garden. He would slice lengthwise the six breadsticks in the basket and then stuff them with the noodles, eating them mindlessly as if they were subs.
As he ate he mulled over stats and plays planned for the following game. He used three Sharpie colors, each signifying to him and him alone their meanings.
As for friends, former Illini teammates held him in the highest esteem, but no one would count himself as Mike's friend. The person who came closest to being his confidant was Mike Golic, a co-host on ESPN's Mike and Mike in the Morning. He was an admirer, someone who was candid and honest. Golic, fifteen years older, was like a big brother to Mike.
His dawn-to-dusk schedule kept him planted in his office and the field after starting each day at Dunkin' Donuts. Raj readied his order as he saw him coming into the drive-thru in his Jeep: large coffee, five sugars and extra cream. His donut of choice was the Double Chocolate of which he always ordered three.
When he arrived at the stadium, he went to the stands where he contemplated his day. Because he always reviewed the coaches' film mere hours after the game, he planned the direction of his team's five day practices as he stared out at the field. He set the day's course from his stadium seat, going to his office once he locked in the particulars of his plan for that day.
The second part of his morning was meeting with his staff. A good listener, he took pride in his three coordinators' abilities. He hand-picked Todd Myers in 2009 as the offensive coordinator. Todd took in stride the high level of success of the Omaha Stampeders' quarterback, Parker Jackson. Parker was everything and more than what a dream quarterback could be. Todd's priorities were to keep him healthy and humble. Mike occasionally stepped in with Parker's management, meeting with him like clockwork once a week.
Clint Steel lived up to his name as defensive coordinator. He held that position before Mike became the Stampeders' head coach; his obvious acumen and claim to fame, designing a base alignment 3-4 defense.
His Special Teams Coordinator, Nate Lynn, was nothing short of visionary. Nate's schematics were so unpredictable, cameras captured the befuddled looks on the opposing linebackers' faces. He mixed up plays efficiently, almost always catching the opposing team off guard.
The schedule Mike determined during the post-season was firmly ensconced before the team returned to work in June. He was known in sports circles as possibly the most organized in the business. He was more admired, though, for his willingness to allow his coordinators to do their jobs with little interference from him. Consequently, this leadership model had a domino affect with the coordinators' assistants and trainers. This made for a collective group of everyone involved on the coaching staff to feel psychological ownership for the success of the Stampeders.
If planning changes needed to be made before training began, he altered accordingly. During the 2011 NFL lockout, he changed his training strategies six times until the team and coaches were authorized by the NFL to begin communicating again. He worked so hard at the changes as negotiations continued, he only took three days off that July to take Linebacker out of the Two Harbors Marina.
It had been a burden for veterans and rookies to begin their NFL seasons that summer because some players had not maintained strict workout schedules during the strike. During the first quarter of the 2011 season, more players across the spectrum of teams had injuries than in the history of the league. Injured Reserved lists grew weekly and numbers became alarming by the sixth week of regular play. In a nutshell, some players committed themselves to their technique and assignment protocols; others didn't. The injuries were the proof of the pudding.
Outside Linebacker Tim McGrew was one such casualty. Known as "Groover," he furrowed his way in the direction of opposing quarterbacks with such ferocity, opposing team fans cringed. He was omnipresent on the field. As an outside linebacker he was positioned at the right side. By the time the play ended, he was either defending on the left or sacking the quarterback. He was an unstoppable enigma.
Now, in the seventh week, Groover was lost, possibly for the season; the Stampeders had a huge position to fill. The team, predicted to be the NFC contender in Super Bowl XLIX to be played at the University of Phoenix Stadium in Glendale, Arizona, Jacobs and Steel had to make a quick decision about Groover's replacement. Darius Johnson was the obvious benefactor.
Mike Jacobs had his work cut out for him as he plotted and planned strategies for the second half of the season. He was the architectural engineer, the teacher, the head coach. General Manager, Timothy Tedford, was the architect, the recruiter, the magician. His leadership style was different from most GM's because of his unique selection process.
Tim was the definitive scout, attending college football games whenever the Stampeders did not require his attendance at their home and away games. In tune with what the chief financial officer determined the franchise could afford, he primarily scouted potential rookies who showed spark. Razzle and dazzle rarely piqued his interest. He had the rare gift to identify raw talent and hand them over to Mike and the other coaches to develop their innate abilities.
Together, Tim and Mike sensed they had the dream team the other thirty-one teams could only covet. In 2014, they were the team with the target on their back. The Stampeders were the hunted, and clearly they were on the hunt.
Mike intuitively knew the second half of the season would tell the tale. At 7-1, Omaha was the NFC contender. This was their time. This was their year. After the BYE week the truth would be made known. There was nothing that should get in their way. It was in the cards.
Mike did not see it that way, though. His message was a firm, "One game at a time" and "Don't believe the hype."
USA Today selected him as the Head Coach on the Midseason All-Pro Team. Parker Jackson received the well-deserved Quarterback honor. Kicker Chris Castone also made the coveted fantasy team. As Mike told the local Omaha media when asked about this notable honor, "It means nothing. We just finished the first half of the season; we have half a season to go until the playoffs. Let's not get ahead of ourselves, folks."
As lonely as his life was personally off the field, Mike Jacobs had never been anybody's fool ... at least until November 2014.
CHAPTER 2
Bouncing from foster home to foster home can have a devastating impact on a child's life. Every home's culture, each family's functionality or dysfunction leaves an indelible mark on a child who may or may not return to his or her biological family.
Jenna Huddy was the product of such transition. From the age of six and until she was emancipated from the system at eighteen, she transitioned through seven homes, the longest stay being a group home for five years.
A lanky natural beauty with flowing brunette hair and brown eyes the size of moon pies, she had a dazzling smile and a delightful laugh when she cared to produce them. There was no question about it: Jenna turned heads.
She was also bright, articulate and savvy. Conversely, she had become a manipulator by the age of eleven. She left each foster home with different experiences, most causing chinks to develop in her young psyche that would mold her as an adult.
The one exception in her seven placements was a couple who doted on her. For the first time in her life she felt a modicum of acceptance, of normalcy. The Dawson's, a young couple with no children, fostered her from the ages of seven until three days before her tenth birthday. When Molly Dawson became pregnant, the couple decided Jenna might be better served in another home. She was confused. To add injury to the bewilderment, she had no one to talk to about why she had again been abandoned.
Homes one through seven, with the exception of the Dawson's at number two, piled on all of what would shape Jenna as she moved through childhood and puberty.
Tom Nichols, home number one, occasionally disciplined her by putting her under the floorboards of the porch until his wife heard Jenna's cries. Spiders and their webs would hold lifelong, terrorizing memories. At six she learned a new vocabulary from Nichols, words she dared not repeat to her first grade peers.
Foster homes number three and four were what might be regarded as typical. At first, both sets of parents attempted to overindulge Jenna as an indicator they understood the pain of her situation. In home number three with the Thompson's, she was unable to trust their actions and words. The Nichol's had given her that as their departing gift.
She was a difficult addition to their three biological children. Though she was respectful and obedient, she could not conform to their established patterns. The day after she questioned Mrs. Thompson about why they wanted a foster child when they had their own three, she was picked up by her caseworker to be taken to the Walter's home.
In home number four, being unable to trust equated to unacceptable behaviors at school. Rebellious signs at the age of eleven were evidenced by her negative attitude toward her peers. By the spring of sixth grade, she extended her curt remarks and dismissive glares toward her teachers. On one such occasion, she was suspended from school for three days.
Home number five was a revolving door. Now twelve, Jenna lost her innocence to the Bando's fifteen year old biological son, Tom. By her fifth week there, he made his intentions known. Whenever he had the opportunity, he put his arm around her and pulled her to him. A month later he was kissing her cheek. By the end of her fourth month, he crawled into her bed.
At thirteen, she arrived at the Landry's door. There, she experienced normalcy at home and as a freshman in high school. She was confident enough to try out for junior varsity cheerleading. She made the squad; her grades were exceptional; she was content.
A beauty at thirteen she felt accepted because of the manner in which her peers included her in normal adolescent activities. A typical Saturday night included the junior varsity basketball game and late-night pizza. She had a positive outlook for the first time since she entered the system seven years earlier.
She began her sophomore year with the Landry's, returning to the same school to a bevy of genuine friends. Two days before Christmas, Charlie Landry suffered a fatal heart attack and, on Christmas day, Jenna was moved into an adolescent group home where she would remain for almost five years.
Her mother and her step-father still lived in Newark. The last time she saw her mother was three years earlier at a visit scheduled by the Department of Youth and Family Services. It had not gone well because her step-father invited himself to the meeting. He was the last person in the world she wanted to see or talk to. The memories still ran rampant through her mind of his penchant for kissing her lips at the age of five.
When she saw Ted Durby with a Cheshire grin sitting next to her mother, she told her caseworker the visit was over. She was fifteen then and never spoke to her mother again.
Released at eighteen, no longer having system support, she became a statistic. About twenty percent leaving the system at that age achieve stability. The rest gravitate toward homelessness, substance abuse, prostitution and other maladies too thorny to overcome. However, Jenna had her ducks in order in what she would do when she was set free. She had several skills from her high school experience. Her computer skills were advanced; she was a whiz at creative writing; her home economic classes in the culinary arts had produced an exceptional cook.
At that time she had no idea she would also develop an avocation for slot machines. Gambling would prove to become an obstacle redirecting her life in ways she could not yet know.
With the small amount of cash provided by DYFS, enough to make a damage deposit and pay the first month's rent, she boarded a Greyhound bus for Atlantic City. Regardless of how long it took, she instinctively knew she could get her feet planted in the gambling mecca and begin the climb she felt entitled to after a horrendous childhood.
For all intents and purposes, she had no family and no friends. There was no one whom she could trust. What she did have at eighteen was beauty and drive. She was determined she could do anything she wanted because the only one she had to account to was herself.
Jenna Huddy, as beautiful as she was lonely at the age of eighteen, began her new life the summer of 2008.
Trump Taj Mahal became the backdrop for Jenna's professional career. When applying at Human Resources, she checked "Restaurants" as her choice for getting her feet planted. As much as she desired to prepare entrees, she was nowhere close to doing so in the elite world of the Taj Mahal's nineteen offerings.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from MORE THAN A GAME by MARILYN JOSEPH. Copyright © 2013 Marilyn Joseph. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse.
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