Keeping Score
On that last morning, we all stood outside in the muggy, hazy air, everyone making uncomfortable small talk and stupid jokes as the clock ticked on.
Finally, Joe clapped a hand on his son's shoulder. "You better get on the road, bud. Long drive ahead of you. And what time are you supposed to meet Tate?" Leo was sharing the drive with another Carolina freshman football player, this one from Gatbury, the next town over from us. He'd met Tate Durham over the summer, through Leo's friend Matt Lampert, and they'd hit it off. Tate was one of the few decent football guys I'd met, and I noticed he seemed to have a good influence on Leo.
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