Intentional Grounding

By KT Bishop

Chasing a scholarship and cheerleader.....

M.L. Cotton is determined to become the rare African-American to play quarterback at a Division I college. Many roadblocks block his dream. He fights to get an invite into a Cajun quarterback camp in New Orleans and stumbles into the life of Jennifer Monet, a beautiful white cheerleader.

Prejudice slashes both ways as teammates, college reps and their family fight against their relationship. But it takes a hurricane to show them what’s important.

Can M.L. Cotton juggle his dreams and a relationship or will strong winds blow them apart?

• Language: English
• Publisher: kt bishop
• Release date: Aug 27, 2015
• ISBN: 9781516399086

Book preview

Dedication

To my brother, Andre Bishop and my sister, Sheryl Jones, both of whom stuck with me through tough times over the last three decades.

CHAPTER ONE

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ML Cotton woke up shaking. Again. He hated when he did that. He couldn’t see any reason for a quarterback to be such a wuss. If he were desperately unhappy, if he were lonely or grieving, shaking in his sleep would make sense, but he wasn’t any of those things. At worst, he was pissed that his dream to play quarterback at a Division I-A school was dominated by whites.

He lay in bed and searched for a solution, but nothing immediately came to mind on this sunny spring morning of May 22, 1985. The school year just ended at Spanish Fort High School, and he needed something to occupy his time for the summer.

An idea suddenly hit ML: get a summer job until school started again in the fall. At the very least, he would have his own spending money.

ML slowly walked into the bathroom to shower and jump-start his goal. He began his personal hygiene and wiped the sleep bugs from his eyes. The hot water sprayed all over his light caramel body and neatly cropped hair felt good. He dried off, slid into a white short set, hopped into his navy blue Pinto and drove into town.

Jack’s was the first stop on ML’s job tour. Seconds after he entered the fast-food establishment, he accidentally bumped into a man with a small notebook.

Excuse me sir, M.L. said. I’m so sorry.

That’s okay; I should have paid more attention, the man said.

ML picked up the man’s pad from the floor, and noticed the brochure about a Cajun Quarterback Camp in New Orleans. This may be the opportunity to showcase his skills and become known to recruiters.

If you don’t mind, I’d like to know about this camp, ML said.

You want one for a friend? the man asked.

ML shook his head. No sir, it’s for me.

You’re a quarterback? The unidentified man said.

Determination powered ML through. Yes sir and I want to play quarterback at a big college.

This is an elite camp, young man.  Attendance is by invitation only.

How do I get invited? ML asked.

The man frowned. We only invite the best quarterbacks from each school.

I bet that I’m as good as or better than those other QB’s in your little club, ML boasted.

You wouldn’t fit in there, the man said. This really is for the nation’s best quarterbacks.

ML frowned after he heard the man’s smart-ass comments. Suddenly, he felt what his grandparents fought through in the 1950’s and 60’s, being black meant automatic rejection.

Just tell me when it is, and I’ll be there, ML said. I can play with anyone.

The man reluctantly handed ML a brochure, Be careful what you wish for.

Don’t worry. ML said. He was quite confident of his talent. I’ll prove myself.

The man received his to-go order, and headed out the door. Good luck. You’re going to need it.

The intense twenty minute exchange lit a fire under ML, who put off a summer job and determined to attend the hundred dollars, three-day senior camp. 

ML would gladly compare his statistics against anyone to provide evidence of his skills. As a junior, he had completed 167 of 210 passes for 2,245 yards and twenty- two touchdowns. He also ran for 543 yards and nine more scores. With a 3.4 Grade Point Average and twenty-one ACT score, he was a perfect candidate for an athletic scholarship. All he needed was someone to notice his strong arm and exceptional running ability. At six-foot-two and wiry 175-pounds, ML had the size and quickness to elude the bigger, physical defensive linemen.

****

He had to sell the idea of the camp to his overprotective mother and it would be a tough obstacle.  ML had to beg Annie Cotton, a registered nurse, to let him play. His father, Herman Cotton, a factory worker, approved.

ML brought up the football camp over dinner. Annie quickly dismissed the trip as she brought smothered pork chops to the table.

We don’t have the money right now, so you can’t go, she said.

With an overloaded plate with mashed potatoes, ML replied, When is a hundred bucks too expensive? You bought a dress for that much last month.

That’s beside the point, she said. We’ve never let you do anything like this before.

ML used his trump card: his dad. Dad, talk some sense into her.

This will be good experience for him living on his own, Herman said. We’ll give the boy the money."

Our son is not ready to handle the pressures of being alone in a big city, Annie said.

ML declared his independence. I’m going to this damn camp with or without your approval. I’m not ten years old anymore, I can make my own choices.

You're grown now and know everything, Annie said harshly.

ML rolled his eyes.

Why are you making a big deal out of this? he asked. I’m trying to make something of myself.

You want to go to New Orleans? Fine, Annie said.

They finished their meal in icy silence. ML washed dishes after dinner was complete.

****

ML experienced a different panic attack night before the camp. He had a nightmare. Visions of embarrassment at the Cajun camp danced in his head. He fell on his face before major college coaches, and wobbly passes, not perfect spirals.

You’re not a quarterback, the Alabama coach said.

You couldn’t be first-string water boy on my team, the LSU coach screamed.

The dozen quarterback candidates gave ML an F grade for failure. They threw large F letters at him and chanted ‘loser."’

ML screamed loud enough to bring his parents into his room.

"Is everything alright?’ Herman asked.

I’m scared to make a fool of myself in New Orleans, ML said coolly.

If this is something you believe in, give it your best shot, Annie said warmly.

ML was shocked by his mother’s approval. So, you’re giving me your blessing to attend?

Yes, all I want for you is to be happy, Annie said. They hugged.

Thanks, Mom, ML said.

Now that we’ve got the Hallmark moment out of the way, some of us have to go to work in the morning, Herman said.

Doubts remained. He didn’t sleep much the rest of that night and was going to skip the three-day camp and find another way to attract scouts.

ML decided to bypass the camp until Spanish Fort High School Coach, John Mart called around five that morning.

You’ll do well there, Coach Mart said. You’re the best QB I’ve ever trained. You can play with anyone.

Appreciate it, coach, ML said.

Coach Mart’s unexpected call lit a fire in ML’s stomach. He promptly packed his duffel bag for the three- hour journey.

Annie and Herman gave ML a proper send-off to New Orleans.

You should take your mother’s Accord, Herman said.  She can drive my truck and I’ll use the Pinto while you’re gone."

Thanks, Dad, ML said. It wasn’t exactly a muscle car, but the tan Honda looked better than his Pinto and had better pick-up than the little four-banger.

Annie made him a huge breakfast of eggs, grits, hash browns, sausage and biscuits. The Cottons rarely ate breakfast together because of their different hectic schedules. By the time ML woke up, his parents were usually at work.

You’ll never see me get up this early again, ML said. I didn’t know my alarm clock had a setting for five a.m.

Watch out for the voodoo, she said. Don’t go around meeting strange girls.

Don’t forget why you’re there, Herman said. Call us tonight, Son.

I will, ML said, hugging both. He zoomed out of the driveway and emerged into heavy traffic on Interstate 10.

****

When ML crossed the Louisiana state line, he had another panic attack. This time, it was the chest pain that plagued ML He experienced heavy heartburn and feared the end was near.

He slowly drove over the bridge that connected Slidell and New Orleans, and then stopped at a gas station to get himself together.

The non-cardiac chest pain eventually went away. ML rested for an hour before he resumed the drive to the University of New Orleans.

CHAPTER TWO

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For the third time, ML circled the UNO campus. Where’s the damn camp? Frustrated, he gripped the leather steering wheel of his Accord. He hated to ask directions, but when he saw cheerleaders pass out flyers in front of the auditorium, he pulled over.

A slender, brown-haired girl wave a pink flyer in the air rushed over. Car wash today.

He hit a button and rolled down the passenger window.

She shoved the flyer into his brown hand and then fell halfway into the car. Oh, my. I think I’m stuck.

She struggled for a moment before pushing herself up with solid, fair arms. The name Jennifer was printed on her hot-pink tee-shirt.

Jennifer, how much is a car wash? ML asked.

Ten bucks, Jennifer said.

ML fumbled for a ten and handed it to her. He didn’t have time to get his car cleaned, but her green eyes, slender legs and long brown hair made him fork over the cash, just for directions.

What I need most is directions, he said, holding up a camp brochure.

She blinked.

I don’t have my glasses on. She squinted at the sheet of paper with green eyes, the color of life itself. Go straight down and hang a left at the bank. You won’t miss it. Her eyes were as bottomless as a pond.

Speechless, he felt himself melting into them.

She laughed. You don’t need me to take you there, do you? Her tone was melodic and sweet.

I'll manage, ML said softly.

From the steps of the auditorium, the cheerleading coach yelled, Jennifer! We need you over here!

Hate to go, but you know the rules of a cheerocracy, Jennifer said. I’ll be here for the next three hours."

He finally broke free of the love spell, he said, I'll be back for you. Count on it.

The heartburn episode was a welcome distraction for him. ML found love for the first time at the Super Southeast High School Cheerleading Camp.

****

ML was the last of twenty quarterbacks to arrive at the camp. Officials just shut down registration.

I’m sorry, we’re closed, a counselor said.

I’m sorry I was late, Sir. I got lost, ML pleaded.

The official did ML no favors. You should’ve arrived on time. It’s not my problem. We’ve got rules, you know.

The man with the brochures and whom ML met back home intervened, let him enter.

This is the kid from Spanish Fort High School, he said. His name tag said "Jim Griff, Camp Director. 

Mr. Cotton, hope you’re ready, Griff said.

I wasn’t missing this opportunity, ML said confidently.

The snobbish attitude from Griff sent chills down ML’s spine. Suddenly, he felt he didn’t belong with the other signal-caller prospects. Not only was he the only black at the camp, but being tardy resulted in him receiving the worst jersey and a non-quarterback number. He got a torn, blue, number twenty-one jersey, where the nineteen others sported fresh, brand new black ones. He had hoped to stand out, but not like this.

****

As ML walked onto the field, the other players stayed away as if he was unworthy of being on the same field as them. Doubts crept into his brain.

He began to breathe heavily and his nostrils spread. He managed to control his hyperventilation without anyone noticing and give his counterparts fodder to ridicule him. The episode eventually went away as the players went through the line.

ML mumbled to himself, Everything will be fine, just stay cool.

Griff officially introduced his staff to the players and outlined the three-day agenda. From there, he paired up players in groups of two as partners and roommates. He assigned a signal-caller from Denham Springs, Louisiana named Randy Fonte as ML’s bunkmate for the next two nights.

ML was standoffish toward each other, and exchanged a quick-strike handshake outside the ivory white dormitory before they headed into their vehicles.

He was judgmental toward his temporary bunkmate. He sneered at Randy pull up in a rusty gray Ford pickup truck under the tune of Hank Williams’ Jr.’s Country Boys Can Survive. Randy carried a dark green suitcase with the word Gator engraved on it and wore a black leather cowboy hat didn’t win him over, either.

Oh great, I get to hear Hee Haw for the next two days, he thought, as he threw his maroon suitcase onto the lower bunk.

ML went down the hall and called his parents collect, and wanted to leave. I made it here safely and I’m ready to come back home. My roommate’s driving me crazy.

You pitched a fit to go and your ass is staying there, Herman said. You knew this would be difficult when you applied. Whatever problem you got, you need to deal with it.

We don’t have money to throw down the toilet. Hang in there and, call us tomorrow night, Annie said honestly. We love you."

Love you too, ML said.

ML slammed down the dorm phone and unloaded his trunk. Damn it, why can’t anyone listen to me.

As he re-entered the tiny dorm room, ML saw Randy lay on the bottom bed.  His maroon suitcase now sat on the top bunk.

Who died and made you king? ML said angrily.

What do you mean by that, Mr. Cotton, Randy said.

I’m talking about sleeping down low, ML replied.  I claimed that bunk before you got here. Go ahead and move.

It’s my possession now, Randy taunted.

We can change that, ML said.

Randy shook his head. As we say in Cajun land, you move you lose.

ML strode in Randy’s face. We have a saying in Alabama; you don’t move fast, I’ll kick your ass.

I’d like to see you try, Randy said.

Griff heard the loud commotion down the hall and intervened.  What going on?

I claimed the bottom bed, ML said.

He wasn’t around so I took it, Randy said.

Griff awarded the bed to Randy. That’s how we do things here. He was here first. Do you have a problem with that?

ML’s eyes rolled back inside his head and spoke in low tone. No sir.

I had no idea prejudice still existed. It’s your bed, take it, Randy said.

You have it tonight, I get it tomorrow, and we’ll flip for third after that, ML suggested.

The two quarterback hopefuls shook hands to seal the deal. Peace was made.

CHAPTER THREE

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ML was headed out to find Jennifer, just as Randy emerged from the bathroom. Where are you going partner.

I’m leaving to find this girl I met today named Jennifer, ML said.

You are talking about that cheerleading exhibit on the other side? Randy said.

I guess so, ML said.

My girlfriend’s over there, Randy said. I was going to take her out to eat dinner. You can come.

The idea of a three-some appealed to ML like a root canal. Jennifer was the only thing on his mind.  Maybe we can find Jen, it can be a double date.

The duo hopped in Randy’s truck and drove to the girls’ dorm.

****

Randy asked for Monica Talbert at the front desk. The five-foot-six blonde emerged from the elevator and softly kissed Randy.

This is my roommate, ML Cotton, and he’s going to join us for dinner, if that’s cool, Randy said.

Monica shook ML’s hand and asked if her roommate could accompany them. I don’t want to leave her alone.

Randy nodded.

Why not, I have nothing to lose, ML said.

His heart pounded when Monica introduced Jennifer to him and Randy. It was his second encounter with the long-legged goddess. His body froze and cock hardened in her presence. Y—you’re that girl who gave me directions today.

She giggled. I’m Jennifer Monet’, and you are...

ML opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

I’m Randy Fonte, and this is ML Cotton of Spanish Fort, Alabama. It’s our pleasure to meet you.

It’s nice to meet you both, Jennifer said.

ML was locked into Jennifer. He admired everything about her, especially her tight blue jean shorts with a white low-cut blouse. I’m hungry, let’s get the hell out of here.

He stepped away and chat with Randy. We all can’t fit into his truck, unless you want to sit on the back.

On the way to the men's dorm, ML gushed about Jennifer. I’ve never seen anyone so pretty before. She almost made me forget why I’m at this camp.

Just be yourself and you‘ll be fine, Randy said.

****

The boys returned and everyone sat as couples. Randy got in the back with Monica to put Jennifer upfront beside ML.

ML and Jennifer began an awkward conversation during the drive. Thanks for the directions to the camp this afternoon, He said. I apologize for acting goofy.

You’re welcome, Jennifer said. Um, turn left at the next light. Their chat continued.  "I’ve had stuff like that happen to me before. Don’t worry about it.’’

****

The foursome landed in downtown New Orleans at Fort Bayou. The restaurant stood out by itself on the strip accompanied by red, flashing neon lights.  A sign on the window says ‘We serve the best Cajun food.’

ML and Jennifer opened the door for her and seated her at the table.

You’re so sweet, Jennifer said.

The Louisiana trio ordered the Cajun family feast for four—a whole Cajun chicken with potatoes, seafood gumbo, beignets and bread.

ML’s eyes strained and he was concerned about his first experience to eat Cajun cuisine. I don't know everyone.

Don’t worry sweetie, you’ll love it, Jennifer said.

You better be right, ML said nervously.

When the waitress brought the food to the