Chapter 214: Chapter 135: Not Eating Beef Starts in the Locker Room
"Just scoping the place out in advance," Li Wei said with a smile. "Get familiar with the environment a little early."
"Come on in," Head Coach Dabor said, standing on the steps of the side entrance. "Let’s go to my office, have a cup of coffee, and talk."
"Where should I park my car?" Li Wei asked. "I can’t just leave it at the entrance."
"Good point," Dabor slapped his forehead. "The address I emailed you was for the side entrance. Since you drove yourself, you have to go in through the main gate. Here’s what you do..."
After getting the directions, Li Wei drove his Porsche 911 around the building and entered the parking lot through the main gate.
From what he could see, it was less a training center and more a training factory.
It was located deep within the Meadowlands Sports Center, right next to the colossal MetLife Stadium, which looked like a giant outdoor air conditioning unit. The facility itself was constructed from pale gray concrete, dark blue metal panels, and tinted privacy glass, giving it a cold, hard, industrial minimalist style.
Surrounding it were wide, flat asphalt lots and three standard outdoor natural grass practice fields. The May morning breeze, carrying the unique humidity of New Jersey and the smell of exhaust from a distant highway, blew across the empty grounds.
Li Wei entered the indoor training facility, went up the steel staircase to the second floor, and stepped into the head coach’s office.
"What’ll you have?" Dabor asked. "Cappuccino or Americano?"
"A cappuccino, please," Li Wei replied, needing a serious energy boost. "An Americano without sugar or milk is a bit too bitter."
"This isn’t a buffet," Dabor said with a laugh, handing Li Wei a paper cup. "We only have Americano. The machine’s over there."
"Then you really didn’t have to ask." Li Wei, not knowing whether to laugh or cry, took the cup and walked over to the coffee machine, watching as Dabor’s expensive machine slowly extracted the brew.
Dabor looked out the floor-to-ceiling window at the practice field, where a bus was slowly pulling to a stop. A group of players got off, their faces a mixture of confusion, anxiety, and pride.
"Today is the first day of rookie training camp," he said, peeking through the blinds he was opening. He glanced at Li Wei, who looked like he’d been waiting an eternity by the coffee machine. "How are you feeling?"
"Feeling..." Li Wei thought for a moment. "Nothing in particular, I guess. Just train hard and get along with my teammates."
Early May was when NFL teams held their respective rookie training camps, which usually lasted for three days. Besides Li Wei, the participants included players from the regular seven rounds of the draft and about 90 tryout players who had paid their own way to the Giants for one last shot.
"Get along with your teammates? Ha! Ha! Ha!"
Dabor let out a few dry laughs, as if he had just heard the biggest joke of the century.
He turned around, leaned his back against the blinds, and stared intently at Li Wei.
"This isn’t a high school field trip, kid," he said. "We brought you in as a Quarterback to be a leader, a captain. Not to be Mr. Nice Guy and say ’yes’ to everything."
Li Wei, holding his freshly brewed Americano, frowned slightly but said nothing.
Dabor pointed to the young men outside who were unloading their luggage from the bus, their eyes filled with a mix of hunger, anxiety, and excitement.
"More than half of those guys out there don’t have contracts. They paid for their own flights to come to this three-day tryout," he said, tapping the glass. "For them, this isn’t the start of a career, it’s the end. In three days, the vast majority of them will be told to get lost. They won’t even make the 90-man roster."
"They’ll be unemployed instantly. They’ll go back to fixing cars, doing manual labor, selling insurance, or returning to their slums in Louisiana or Detroit."
Dabor paused, his tone unchanging. "Even for the lucky few who do get a contract, they’ll face an even more brutal culling when the season officially starts in September. The roster gets cut from 90—oh, no, it’s 89 now that you’re here—from 89 down to 52."
"People leave every day, and new people arrive every day. Li Wei, you’re not just taking up a spot; you’re taking away their hope of survival," Dabor said, walking up to Li Wei. "And you, not only did you not play a full three years in the NCAA, you got a five-million-dollar signing bonus and theoretically the highest salary in the league. You drive a 911 to work. Do you really think they’re going to see you as a teammate?"
"No. No one here sees anyone else as a teammate. They’ll smash your kneecaps with their helmets on the practice field, throw your shoes in the trash can in the locker room, and then step over your corpse to get ahead."
Li Wei raised an eyebrow and took a sip of his coffee.
"Sometimes you need to be more assertive, kid," Dabor said. "You did a great job at the press conference."
Li Wei hesitated. "That’s because that reporter—"
"See, that’s your problem," Dabor cut in. "I know a little about Chinese culture. I’ve read *The Art of War*. You people always default to being polite first and then deciding how to act based on the other person’s reaction. That’s the wrong approach in a locker room."
"If you respect them, they’ll like you, but they won’t respect you," Dabor said. "If you don’t respect them, they won’t like you, but they will respect you."
"We drafted a Quarterback, an absolute leader, a captain," he said, patting Li Wei’s shoulder. "There’s an old saying in the Celestial Dynasty that goes—"
"A wise man submits to the circumstances?" Li Wei offered jokingly.
"No, no," Dabor said, momentarily confused. "It basically means you can’t be too reasonable with people who are... less educated. You know the biggest struggle for these tryout players was maintaining a 2.5 GPA in college just to graduate."
’He means "Barbarians are awed by might, but not moved by virtue,"’ Li Wei thought, finally realizing which old saying Dabor was trying to recall.
"I understand now," he said after a moment of thought. "But I’ll warn you, my tongue can be pretty sharp. I’m afraid they might not be able to handle it."
"What’s the big deal?" Dabor waved his hand dismissively. "I’ve got an offensive coordinator we all call ’Mad Dog Matty’. You’re from the civilized Celestial Ancient Country; no matter what you say, it probably won’t be too out of line."
’Coach, you have no idea,’ Li Wei thought silently. ’I was forged in the fires of online forums and social media.’
"Alright, that’s about enough," Dabor said, glancing outside. "Go to the locker room and get your gear. The equipment team should have everything ready for you."
’They even have an equipment team to take care of your gear,’ Li Wei thought with a sigh of appreciation as he walked toward the locker room. ’The pros have it good.’
...
Inside the Giants’ number 1 locker room, dozens of tryout players, fresh off the bus, were clamoring for spots. For them, snagging a locker closer to the air conditioning or farther from the restroom was the first battle in this game of survival.
"Hey! I saw that first!"
"Get lost, rookie! I’m from Ohio State!"
"Oh yeah? Knew I recognized your ugly ass. I’m from the University of Michigan."
In the NCAA, Ohio State and the University of Michigan are traditional arch-rivals. For a moment, the room was filled with a rising tide of noise and curses.
Just then, the locker room door swung open. Li Wei walked in, hands in his pockets, followed by two members of the equipment staff.
"Mr. Li Wei, this is your locker," one of the staffers said, pointing to the largest and best locker in the corner. It had a #1 label and a photo of Li Wei on it. "We got it all ready for you in ad— uh..."
He trailed off, looking at the pile of dirty clothes heaped in front of the locker, at a loss for words.
"It’s fine," Li Wei said, shaking his head. "Just give me my bag."
The two staff members exchanged an uneasy glance, handed Li Wei his equipment bag, and left, looking back over their shoulders every few steps. Before they went, they deliberately left the door cracked open a bit.
Li Wei stared at the pile of old, recently discarded training clothes in front of him. They stank of sweat and had yellowed collars, tossed carelessly before his locker as if to declare some sort of territorial claim.
He glanced back at the rest of the locker room.
The noise in the room, which had been a chaotic din, died instantly as if someone had cut the power. Dozens of pairs of eyes were fixed on him, their gazes filled with mockery, provocation, and the malicious anticipation of watching a good show.
"Oops," a grating, duck-like voice broke the silence. "Sorry about that, those are my clothes. I was so tired from the bus ride, my hand slipped."
The speaker was a burly black man with a fleshy, surly face and a fake gold chain around his neck. Judging by his build, he was probably a linebacker. He was sitting on a nearby bench, legs spread wide, picking at his feet and occasionally sniffing his fingers, all while sizing up Li Wei with an amused, expectant look.
"Hey, superstar, could you do me a favor and pick those up for me?" he said with a grin, revealing a set of uneven teeth. "I’m just too tired to bend over."
A wave of suppressed laughter rippled through the room. Everyone was waiting to see Li Wei make a fool of himself.
An Asian Quarterback and a black linebacker who outweighed him by at least 50 pounds—the physical disparity alone was huge.
’Just as I thought,’ Li Wei mused. ’Coach Dabor’s locker room bullying has arrived right on schedule.’
’These guys don’t understand civility,’ he thought. ’They can’t tell the difference between politeness and weakness. Time to switch to a language they can understand.’
After a moment’s consideration, Li Wei lifted his foot and stepped directly onto the pile of clothes.
He didn’t remove his foot right away. Instead, he ground it into the fabric, as if putting out a cigarette butt.
The air in the locker room instantly froze. The smirks on everyone’s faces stiffened.
"Thanks," Li Wei said politely. "You knew my shoes were dirty and even brought me some rags to wipe them with. The quality’s a bit poor, though."
"There," he said, kicking the shoe-printed clothes back in front of the linebacker. "You can take these to be washed now, so you can lay them under my feet again tomorrow."
"Fuck!"
The burly black man shot up from the bench, his already dark face flushing a deep, purplish red.
"I was a starter at Louisiana State! You know why I went undrafted?" he snarled. "It’s because I broke a teammate’s bones, and no team dared to pick me! You yellow-skinned—"
"Darius, stop!"
Like an enraged bull, Darius charged toward Li Wei in a few steps, raising his fist to smash it into his face.
A few of the surrounding players, though eager to watch the drama unfold, weren’t stupid enough to let a real fight break out in the locker room.
If a brawl actually happened, they weren’t sure what would happen to Li Wei, but they would definitely be sent packing.
Two of Darius’s fellow tryout players rushed forward, grabbing his waist and arms and dragging him back.
"Let me go! I’m gonna tear him apart! I’ll pull out this kid’s teeth one by one and shove them up his ass!"
"That’s it?" Li Wei didn’t even blink. He looked at the impotently raging Darius and continued in a lazy drawl, "You don’t look so tough. Two guys are holding you and you can’t even break free? Are you a linebacker or a cheerleader who just knows how to scream in bed?"
’Damn,’ he thought with a grim satisfaction. ’This feels amazing.’
