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  • Writer's pictureHenry Cavanaugh

Into His New Uniform

“Quick, get it all on him before he realizes his own strength! We don’t want him to start fighting back or we’ll never get him on the team!”

My head was throbbing. I had absolutely no idea what was going on other than the fact that I was surrounded by women. Some of them were girls that I recognized from my college’s cheerleading team but one was an older woman who I somehow knew was the football coach’s wife. I didn’t now how I knew that considering I barely knew the coach and had absolutely no interest in sports but somehow the knowledge was in my mind and I didn’t have any sort of rational explanation for it.

The last thing I could remember was leaving the history study club just before midday and then being surrounded by a bunch of football jocks. I’m trying to remember more but it’s all foggy after that. I remember feeling nervous that I had found myself surrounded by other young men who were all taller and stronger than me but now I couldn’t believe I’d been nervous at all. They were hardly that much taller than me and I bet I could take them on in a fight if I really tried. I’ve been working my body hard lately after all.

Letting out a grunt as the football helmet was forced down onto my head, a voice whispered in my ear that I was progressing just as coach wanted me to. That filled me with a sense of achievement because after all nobody wants to disappoint their coach, especially not me.

Damn, why was it getting so hard to think? I was so sure that I had another lecture to get to but that didn’t make any sense, did it? I’d already done my sports science lecture and my schedule’s pretty clear apart from that. Wait, sport science? Something about that didn’t seem right. Wasn’t I a history major with a serious dislike of organized sport? 

Heh, that’s ridiculous. Why would I be on the football team if I hated sport? That would be pretty dumb of me but hey, people call me dumb a lot. I’ve never been the type to get good grades but who needs those when you can play football like a pro and make your coach proud? But I got straight A’s at high school… Nah, that didn’t seem right. It sounded like a joke one of my bros on the team told me to get a good laugh. There was no way I could get straight A’s on anything. My parents gave up on hoping I’d be some genius years ago when they realized I was way more interested in sports than any of that textbook bullshit.

By the time all the uniform was on me I was feeling restless. Coach had decided that since I’d been playing so well lately I could get some brand new gear instead of the hand-me-downs I’d been using. I’ve got to say that judging from the looks the cheerleaders are giving me I must look pretty damn hot. I’m sure they won’t mind if I flex a bit just to show off. I can’t help that the ladies love me so much and I’d be stupid for not taking advantage of that either.

Now that I’m all geared up I guess I better get to practice. My headache’s gone and that crappy dream I had where I was some nerdy history major is over. Thank god that’s done because as if I’d ever be a dweeb like that, especially a gay dweeb. I’m not into all that homo shit. All I care about is football, chilling with my bros and banging hot chicks - just the way Coach likes me!

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