Daniel Foster drove silently through the streets of Portland with only one question on his mind. It ate at him, at his very core. He had been gnawing on the question ever since his flight arrived on the West Coast just a few hours before, and he was still no closer to an answer. He probably would never really make up his mind, the question haunting him for days or weeks until, mercifully, forgotten. He tried to console himself in the knowledge that others probably wrestled with the same issue, but it did little to alleviate his anxiety as he followed his GPS to The Snake Pit. Finally, he had to say the question out loud, if only in the hope that speaking it into existence would help process it faster.
"Should I have gotten a nicer rental car?" He asked, quietly, looking around the interior of the Hyundai Elantra.
The Pythons offered to fly him out and send a car to pick him up at the airport, but Dan felt better abut driving himself. He would take the free flight, but wanted to check out the city while he was here. It was his first time in Portland, after all, and he may want to do some sightseeing after taking part in a workout at the stadium. When he showed up at the rental counter desk at the airport, he had not even considered to ask for something nicer, maybe a BMW or a Lexus. His mind was so occupied with the logistics and timelines to get to the stadium early that he went on auto-pilot. He had not even realized he may have made a mistake until he was pulling out of the rental car lot and saw a billboard of some Python players advertising one of the local car dealerships. A nice one, at that.
He wanted to make a good impression, that much was for sure. But on a more base level, he knew he was being ridiculous. Focusing his anxiety on something mundane like the car prevented him from thinking about the upcoming workout, something much more important than a rental car. As he drew closer to The Snake Pit, the peaks of the stadium now visible from the road, he found it more and more difficult to displace his feelings. Usually, at his most nervous moments, he had his teammates or family to lean on, to help shoulder some of the burden. Now, however, he was all alone in his tiny electric golf cart, on his way to his first workout for a professional club. This task would fall to him and him alone, and it would be all on him to decide how the day went.
As he arrived at the complex, he followed signs for player parking. The main parking lot was of course empty, but he could see perhaps a dozen cars in the players' lot as he got closer. A booth blocked the entrance to the park, and an older man in a yellow jacket held up his hand to stop Dan from approaching. The man smiled as Dan fumbled for a moment, trying to figure out how to lower his window in the unfamiliar automobile. It was perhaps only a second or two, but it felt like an eternity before he found what he was looking for.
"Can I help you?" The man asked, bending down slightly to be closer to the car window.
"Yes, I hope so," Dan began. "My name is Dan Foster, I have a workout today with the team?"
The old man nodded before walking back towards the booth. Dan could see him pick up a clip board and looking through some sort of list. The man must have found what he was looking for as he flashed Dan a thumbs up and waved him on through. Dan thanked him as he drove by, then began his search for a parking space. Much to his relief, the cars in the lot were hardly more impressive than Dan's rented Elantra. Sure, a few of them were expensive, but most were reasonable commuting cars. Coaches, Dan presumed, as opposed to the high priced rides that players could afford.
Dan found a spot and parked his car neatly within the lines. He took a moment to catch a few breaths before stepping out and stretching. The Elantra wasn't especially uncomfortable, but his large frame was not the same asset in travel as it was on the football field. He opened the back seat and grabbed the heavy bag of his equipment, glad that it had made the journey from Boston unscathed. Hoisting the bag onto his shoulder, he glanced up at the stadium and took it in fully for the first time. The structure was massive, somewhat weathered from the Portland climate but it only added to the structure. Orange and green flags dotted the top, and large banners hung on the outside walls of the stadium, highlighting players like Sam Howitzer, Keynel McZeal, and Omar Wright Jr.. There were also banners highlighting Portland's Ultimini championships in 2019 and 2022, as well as the divisional championships the team had won.
As he approached the side door into the stadium, a man stepped out to greet him. The man was young, probably only a few years older than Dan himself. He was dressed in black sweatpants and a white Pythons sweatshirt with a green logo.Dan had done his homework and spoken to the man already. This was Jeff Dale, tight ends coach for the Pythons.
"Dan, glad you could make it," Jeff said, holding out and shaking Daniel's hand.
"Of course coach, I appreciate the invite," Dan answered, re-adjusting the bag on his shoulder.
"Well, why don't you follow me to my office and we can sit down before we hit the field." Jeff gestured to Dan to follow him, and they entered the stadium.
Unlike the clean and bright hallways that the fans used in the stadium, the staff area had a much more utilitarian flair. The stadium had been built for some time, and age was showing in a few places. Still, the paint was new and everything was clean and well maintained. The updated Python colors and logo dotted the walls and carpet as Jeff and Dan made their way through the bowels of offices, conference rooms, training areas, and media rooms. Dan mentally compared it to the facilities at Northeastern, and really it wasn't even close. Although the Pythons were a DSFL team, their space put anything he saw in college to shame. The made idle chit chat on the way through the hallways, mostly talking about Dan's flight and the recent Portland weather, before Jeff gestured for Dan to enter one of the offices. From the outside, it looked like any of a few dozen they walked past on their way here, but the inside told a different story. Stacks of notebooks and binders lined one wall, including a whiteboard with a blanket over it. In the center of the room was a desk with three monitors on it, angled away from the door. On the wall were pictures, either of famous moments in Python history or personal photos of coach Dale. Facing opposite the desk was a pair of chairs. Dan placed his bag on the ground and sat in one, while Jeff took the seat behind the desk.
"Sorry we can't give you the full tour right now, things are a bit crazy as you can imagine," Jeff began.
"I understand, maybe next time," said Dan.
"I know we spoke on the phone some, but I do have a few more questions for you before we head out if you don't mind."
Dan sat up in his seat. "Not a problem coach, whatever the team needs."
Jeff pulled up something on his computer monitor, glancing at it a bit before beginning.
"This year there's a number of tight end prospects, and we're evaluating everyone. Even beyond that, we want to make sure we are picking players where its a good fit on both sides. What are you looking for in your DSFL team, provided you're drafted?"
Dan took a moment before answering. "I know I didn't go to a major program, and that there are still a few gaps in my game. Ideally, I join a team where I can help grow my skill-set, learn the ropes, and that puts me into a position to succeed."
"How important is it to start right away?"
"Would I like to start immediately? Of course, I always want to be out there on the field and contributing. However, I want to make sure the team is in the best position to win and I may need more time to get there."
Jeff nodded, clicking around a bit on his screen. "You're from Massachusetts and played your college ball there. Portland is obviously not exactly in the same neighborhood," he said with a small smile. "Do you foresee that being an issue?"
"No sir," Dan answered. "To tell you the truth, I am looking to get farther away from home for a while. I could go a few winters without having to shovel snow," he said with a laugh.
"I'm from Minnesota myself," Jeff responded. "I know that feeling. Let's talk about your skill set. Looking at the tape, seems like you were splitting your time between blocking and receiving. Which do you prefer?"
"Honestly coach, I'm not sure exactly how to answer that question. Early at college I was blocking mostly until I had a handle on the playbook, and then later on I was running more routes. Feels good to score a touchdown, but it also feels great to pancake a safety or corner-back that's trying to blitz."
Jeff nodded, before leaning back in his chair. "Well, here's what I'd like to do. Let's head out to the field, and put you through a few drills. After that, we'll come back here and look at some tape. Does that work?"
"You're the boss, just point me in the right direction," Dan said.
"Alright, let's see what you can do."
"Should I have gotten a nicer rental car?" He asked, quietly, looking around the interior of the Hyundai Elantra.
The Pythons offered to fly him out and send a car to pick him up at the airport, but Dan felt better abut driving himself. He would take the free flight, but wanted to check out the city while he was here. It was his first time in Portland, after all, and he may want to do some sightseeing after taking part in a workout at the stadium. When he showed up at the rental counter desk at the airport, he had not even considered to ask for something nicer, maybe a BMW or a Lexus. His mind was so occupied with the logistics and timelines to get to the stadium early that he went on auto-pilot. He had not even realized he may have made a mistake until he was pulling out of the rental car lot and saw a billboard of some Python players advertising one of the local car dealerships. A nice one, at that.
He wanted to make a good impression, that much was for sure. But on a more base level, he knew he was being ridiculous. Focusing his anxiety on something mundane like the car prevented him from thinking about the upcoming workout, something much more important than a rental car. As he drew closer to The Snake Pit, the peaks of the stadium now visible from the road, he found it more and more difficult to displace his feelings. Usually, at his most nervous moments, he had his teammates or family to lean on, to help shoulder some of the burden. Now, however, he was all alone in his tiny electric golf cart, on his way to his first workout for a professional club. This task would fall to him and him alone, and it would be all on him to decide how the day went.
As he arrived at the complex, he followed signs for player parking. The main parking lot was of course empty, but he could see perhaps a dozen cars in the players' lot as he got closer. A booth blocked the entrance to the park, and an older man in a yellow jacket held up his hand to stop Dan from approaching. The man smiled as Dan fumbled for a moment, trying to figure out how to lower his window in the unfamiliar automobile. It was perhaps only a second or two, but it felt like an eternity before he found what he was looking for.
"Can I help you?" The man asked, bending down slightly to be closer to the car window.
"Yes, I hope so," Dan began. "My name is Dan Foster, I have a workout today with the team?"
The old man nodded before walking back towards the booth. Dan could see him pick up a clip board and looking through some sort of list. The man must have found what he was looking for as he flashed Dan a thumbs up and waved him on through. Dan thanked him as he drove by, then began his search for a parking space. Much to his relief, the cars in the lot were hardly more impressive than Dan's rented Elantra. Sure, a few of them were expensive, but most were reasonable commuting cars. Coaches, Dan presumed, as opposed to the high priced rides that players could afford.
Dan found a spot and parked his car neatly within the lines. He took a moment to catch a few breaths before stepping out and stretching. The Elantra wasn't especially uncomfortable, but his large frame was not the same asset in travel as it was on the football field. He opened the back seat and grabbed the heavy bag of his equipment, glad that it had made the journey from Boston unscathed. Hoisting the bag onto his shoulder, he glanced up at the stadium and took it in fully for the first time. The structure was massive, somewhat weathered from the Portland climate but it only added to the structure. Orange and green flags dotted the top, and large banners hung on the outside walls of the stadium, highlighting players like Sam Howitzer, Keynel McZeal, and Omar Wright Jr.. There were also banners highlighting Portland's Ultimini championships in 2019 and 2022, as well as the divisional championships the team had won.
As he approached the side door into the stadium, a man stepped out to greet him. The man was young, probably only a few years older than Dan himself. He was dressed in black sweatpants and a white Pythons sweatshirt with a green logo.Dan had done his homework and spoken to the man already. This was Jeff Dale, tight ends coach for the Pythons.
"Dan, glad you could make it," Jeff said, holding out and shaking Daniel's hand.
"Of course coach, I appreciate the invite," Dan answered, re-adjusting the bag on his shoulder.
"Well, why don't you follow me to my office and we can sit down before we hit the field." Jeff gestured to Dan to follow him, and they entered the stadium.
Unlike the clean and bright hallways that the fans used in the stadium, the staff area had a much more utilitarian flair. The stadium had been built for some time, and age was showing in a few places. Still, the paint was new and everything was clean and well maintained. The updated Python colors and logo dotted the walls and carpet as Jeff and Dan made their way through the bowels of offices, conference rooms, training areas, and media rooms. Dan mentally compared it to the facilities at Northeastern, and really it wasn't even close. Although the Pythons were a DSFL team, their space put anything he saw in college to shame. The made idle chit chat on the way through the hallways, mostly talking about Dan's flight and the recent Portland weather, before Jeff gestured for Dan to enter one of the offices. From the outside, it looked like any of a few dozen they walked past on their way here, but the inside told a different story. Stacks of notebooks and binders lined one wall, including a whiteboard with a blanket over it. In the center of the room was a desk with three monitors on it, angled away from the door. On the wall were pictures, either of famous moments in Python history or personal photos of coach Dale. Facing opposite the desk was a pair of chairs. Dan placed his bag on the ground and sat in one, while Jeff took the seat behind the desk.
"Sorry we can't give you the full tour right now, things are a bit crazy as you can imagine," Jeff began.
"I understand, maybe next time," said Dan.
"I know we spoke on the phone some, but I do have a few more questions for you before we head out if you don't mind."
Dan sat up in his seat. "Not a problem coach, whatever the team needs."
Jeff pulled up something on his computer monitor, glancing at it a bit before beginning.
"This year there's a number of tight end prospects, and we're evaluating everyone. Even beyond that, we want to make sure we are picking players where its a good fit on both sides. What are you looking for in your DSFL team, provided you're drafted?"
Dan took a moment before answering. "I know I didn't go to a major program, and that there are still a few gaps in my game. Ideally, I join a team where I can help grow my skill-set, learn the ropes, and that puts me into a position to succeed."
"How important is it to start right away?"
"Would I like to start immediately? Of course, I always want to be out there on the field and contributing. However, I want to make sure the team is in the best position to win and I may need more time to get there."
Jeff nodded, clicking around a bit on his screen. "You're from Massachusetts and played your college ball there. Portland is obviously not exactly in the same neighborhood," he said with a small smile. "Do you foresee that being an issue?"
"No sir," Dan answered. "To tell you the truth, I am looking to get farther away from home for a while. I could go a few winters without having to shovel snow," he said with a laugh.
"I'm from Minnesota myself," Jeff responded. "I know that feeling. Let's talk about your skill set. Looking at the tape, seems like you were splitting your time between blocking and receiving. Which do you prefer?"
"Honestly coach, I'm not sure exactly how to answer that question. Early at college I was blocking mostly until I had a handle on the playbook, and then later on I was running more routes. Feels good to score a touchdown, but it also feels great to pancake a safety or corner-back that's trying to blitz."
Jeff nodded, before leaning back in his chair. "Well, here's what I'd like to do. Let's head out to the field, and put you through a few drills. After that, we'll come back here and look at some tape. Does that work?"
"You're the boss, just point me in the right direction," Dan said.
"Alright, let's see what you can do."
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