Chapter 196: Recruiting Michael
Ron didn't take George to the Tuohy house, but went directly to Michael's school. The football team was practicing, which allowed George to better observe his abilities.
What Ron didn't expect was that the cheerleaders were also practicing on the field. Collins, seeing Ron's arrival, waved to him and kicked her leg higher.
"Is that the Tuohy girl?" George showed a nostalgic look. "She's such a spirited girl. Did you know your mother was also a member of the school cheerleading team?"
"Her? I thought she was always a devout church lady." This was the first time Ron heard George talk about his youth. Every time they talked about this topic before, Mary always changed the subject.
Undoubtedly, Old George once again piqued Ron's curiosity. He looked at Old George again: "Come to think of it, how did you win over Mom back then? With your current figure and looks, I think..."
"Your attitude is really disrespectful, kid." Old George interrupted unhappily: "She's not the goody-two-shoes you always thought she was. She was just afraid you would learn bad habits from her past. She only got religious later. Back then, she was still a wild child who would sneak out behind your grandmother's back."
"Then what?"
"Then I won her over with a pitcher of margaritas." Old George's story came to an abrupt end: "Your dad was very handsome back then. I rode my big Harley and was the star quarterback in school. Do you know how many girls wanted to ride on the back of my motorcycle?"
"Drunk party girls will do that. When there are enough of them, they'll hop on anyone's bike. You don't actually pick up women with this line, do you? So lame~" Ron complained: "No wonder Mom always says that Georgie is the most like you."
"I'm nothing like that knucklehead. Shush! Let's watch practice first," Old George gestured to Ron, silencing him. On the field, dozens of college football coaches from various teams had gathered.
Ron even spotted his former position coach from Harvard. After years of hard work, the old head coach had retired, and he should have been promoted by now. When Old George introduced him to the coaching staff, Ron even said hello.
"How are you doing, coach?" More and more coaches appeared, and eventually, a hefty, seemingly friendly old man arrived, greeting everyone as he walked. Even Michael's high school coach came over.
"Oh, Fulmer's here! I guess I came all this way for nothing," Old George complained.
"Is he that good?"
Old George nodded. "He's the head coach of the University of Tennessee Volunteers, one of the strongest programs right now and the team most likely to recruit Michael."
"That's not necessarily true, George." A mature female voice sounded behind them, and both father and son turned around: "Leigh Anne?"
"George, long time no see, I didn't even know you were in town." Leigh Anne extended her hand to Old George.
"I didn't even tell Sean. I was so eager to get here. My team desperately needs such an outstanding player. What did you mean by 'not necessarily'?" Old George's hope was rekindled.
"Well, because he's my son now. Sean and I both hope he can play for our home state team. And with an old friend coaching him, I believe he'll be well taken care of and can successfully make it to the professional level."
"George, tell me, can you promise me that?"
Leigh Anne stared at Old George, her posture reminiscent of a protective mother bear watching over her cub.
Ron had seen this protective instinct before in some of the military families back in Texas, where adopted kids were fiercely defended by their new parents.
But George Sr. had always been respected in the coaching community. Despite his sometimes gruff exterior, he had a reputation for developing players both on and off the field. No parent had ever regretted sending their son to play for him.
This might sound like typical coach talk, but it was the truth. George Sr. genuinely cared about his players' futures, not just their performance on Saturday afternoons.
Some coaches talked a big game, but George delivered results.
"I swear on my reputation, I'll do it. I'll look after him like he was my own son," Old George's eyes lit up. Michael's arrival would fill his team's biggest weakness.
As long as all the players stayed healthy, he was even confident he could challenge for a national championship this year!
Remember, the Longhorns' best finish in recent years was a Big 12 championship. Winning the national title would be historic, and the school would probably name the practice facility after him.
"I'll hold you to that promise. I'll find a way to get Michael excited about the University of Texas." Leigh Anne put her sunglasses back on and walked off gracefully.
"She's really something, isn't she?" George muttered, watching Leigh Anne's departure.
With Mary back in Texas, Ron would definitely keep an eye on this old man for his mother's sake. "Yes, and need I remind you that's your friend's wife? You're a married man, George Lee Cooper Sr.?"
"Bah, son, what are you thinking?" Old George was exasperated with his boy, who always took his mother's side. "Sean only got her because I helped set them up. Lucky bastard!"
Michael's coach, obviously aware of what his colleagues were here to see, immediately arranged the main showcase, pitting Michael against a larger defensive lineman of similar size.
Of course, Michael easily dominated, driving the man backward in less than two seconds. Then, almost simultaneously, all the coaches pulled out their phones and began calling their recruiting coordinators.
Old George was no exception, pulling Ron hurriedly toward the car. "Go tell Sean that as long as Michael Oher's grades meet the NCAA requirements, the University of Texas will definitely offer him a full ride."
"No problem," Ron agreed. "But you're leaving so soon? I was thinking of taking you around Los Angeles, maybe show you Hollywood Boulevard. I don't think Mom would mind if you stayed an extra day."
Old George hesitated, but then declined. "Forget it. I better get back to Austin. This is a rare opportunity to make history, and I don't want to let it slip away."
Compared to sightseeing with Ron and admiring the glitz of Los Angeles, Old George preferred the thought of being carried on the shoulders of his players in a championship celebration.
(End of this chapter)
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