Kingsbury blues
His sadness has spiraled down and down for the last two years. An endless slope beginning with nothing but a nudge of a rock. The decision was made. It was correct. He did what he had to do.
But now, he simply sits and watches the rain fall like the touchdown passes that could have fallen in receivers arms on HIS team. Every red hot tear falls to his seat and warms it constantly. His hot seat never cools. The speculation is always there and all the while his thoughts circle back to one word: Baker.
From any room in his house at any hour of the day, you can hear the misery flowing. Kliff bangs on the window pane and cries out to no one, “Why, Baker? Why did you leave me? Why did you take your arm, your game somewhere else?”
In the media, he has always said and done the right things. At Big 12 media days, Kliff praised Baker’s ability, how he cheers for him in every game except the one against his own team. But the truth is he even roots for Baker then. Kliff wants to be punished for his deed. He accepts every Mayfield touchdown against his hardly division one defense like a reconciliatory scourging with a whip.
Still, for the most part, his sadness can live in harmony with his main life as the head coach of the Texas Tech Raiders. He could never beat Baker and Oklahoma even if he wanted. His recruiting goes on as planned, the season rolls along with less excitement, less wins, less awards. There are gunslingers, but none of them are him. His recruiting path is less for his next quarterback, but his next Baker. He was always just hanging on by a thread, though. Tying all the misery in a poorly constructed net, waiting for the least bit to rip the bottom and watch the tragedy flow.
The recruiting trail leads to a Kliff
One day, it all came crashing down. He woke up and spent the morning the same way he always does. He woke up in an oversized Oklahoma t-shirt and got out from under the covers. The one thing he did to get ready was his hair. His hair was always pristine. It helps with recruiting because the moms like it.
He was meeting with one kid today, but he did not get to read any of the file from his scout because he was up late watching Baker Mayfield highlights from this season and choking on his own tears. He actually passed out with a pint of chocolate ice cream on his favorite oklahoma shirt.
But he could always lean on his charm and smooth talking for a good recruiting day. So that’s how today was going to go. Maybe he would have someone read the file to him on the way over, too. Yeah that’s a good plan. Good thinking, Kliff. This is the one. He will be the replacement.
The drive over was filled with a lot of details about a quarterback that would hopefully be the one that helped him forget about the one that got away. It was the third one this week. His hope would never be broken, though. He would find someone better. Someone with everything about Baker but the hair of Patrick Mahomes, who was always his less favorite product. But god damn that hair.
Sitting at the table, everything felt oddly familiar. There was a warmth that he had only felt one other time. That was on the practice field, though, not in a home. The meeting was going well. The kid said all the right things. His mother was unbelievably kind, and also single (which he decided to keep in mind). She asked if anyone wanted anything. Kliff asked for a glass of water. She turned to her son and said, “Do you want anything, Baker?”
Kliff froze. “Excuse me, ma’am, what did you say?”
“Baker,” she repeated. “We have called him that ever since he was young.”
He grabbed the recruiting file and was feverishly flipped through it. How could I have missed this? It must be a sign. The boy’s name is Baker! He must be the one!
Kliff stood and stared with a look in his eyes akin to Quint in the hunting scenes of Jaws. He was focused, but there was a hidden madness, very nearly unleashed. “Kid, I will put it like this. We will do great things together. It is redemption. You are who I have been looking for. You are the one.”
Baker shifted in his chair a bit. This was much different than any of the other coaches that had come. It was normally much more professional, less prophetic. Something clicked when he heard the nickname and the mood in the room shifted. Now it almost seemed like a matter of life and death or the fulfillment of a mission. He was entirely silent.
Kliff leaned over the table and grabbed Baker by his collar. “Baker, you do not understand. This is the Reconciliation. This is the Fulfillment. You are the one.” He shook the kid as the intensity raged in his eyes. “Come to Texas Tech for the Fulfillment.”
At this point, he was gone. His eyes rolled back in his head and he backed away from the table. “Come to Texas Tech!” he yelled in a voice that was no longer his own as he wandered out the door towards the car.
Everyone remaining sat in silence. The assistants turned to continue the process in an attempt to disregard what just happened. Before they spoke the kid’s mother told them to go. It was over.