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Tutu. Tututu.

The sun was so painful that Weather had to take another sip of coffee, trying to wake up his nerves, but he just fell into a bitter mouth and couldn't get rid of it. He grinned, his frown brows and concentrated facial features were like a bun, and he couldn't help but complain:

It's all because of that damn guy!

"Knock!"

The knock on the door broke the tranquility of the office, but made Weather's headache even worse. He always felt that someone was beating gongs and gongs in his ears. It was so sour and practical in words that it was hard to describe it. His irritability surged, as if a little mouse was rushing around in his head.

"who?"

Weather said angrily, "I'm working, don't disturb you easily, don't you know? If it's not a matter of matter, it's better to get out of here." He vented his irritability, but then Weather realized sadly that his head was throbbing worse.

So Weather put down the coffee depressedly, roared "Come in", then closed her mouth and looked at the office door with anger.

The office door was politely pushed open, and Weather could see Nelson's furry flat head, honestly squeezing through the crack of the door, "Mr. Weather".

Not to mention other players for the time being, Weather has a very good impression of Nelson:

Excellent performance, solid training, gentle grace, and most importantly, local Manhattan residents, grew up here since childhood, have a deep friendship with the city, have strong appeal between students and citizens, but have never been proud and complacent, and concentrate on football conscientiously.

Compared to quarterback Josh Freeman, Nelson is now more like a Wildcats' signature figure. He is very likely to be selected as the All-American team this year, not to mention the incomparable appeal and influence among local residents. People, including Weather, treat Nelson differently.

"Jody?"

Weather's performance was a little clearer, his irritability and depression were temporarily suppressed, and he showed a smile, looking at Nelson kindly, "Come in quickly, are today's training over? How do you feel? How are everything going? Just say it directly."

Weather packed up the documents on his desktop and pretended to be busy, creating his own professional image and maintaining authority.

Nelson stopped at the desk but did not speak.

Weather noticed the quietness and didn't care, because Nelson's girdle was relatively quiet, and he was still busy, "Can I help?"

"Mr. Weather, I hope Coach Archie can be treated fairly and he deserves better treatment." Nelson still maintained his usual stability.

Weather's movements stopped, slowly raised his head, looking at Nelson in disbelief, thinking that he had heard it wrong, his first reaction was to "joke", and the smile on the corner of his mouth couldn't help but rise - this was indeed a great joke, but then he saw the seriousness and concentration in Nelson's eyes, which made his smile slightly frozen, and the surprise and anger were intertwined.

"Jody, don't joke around. We treat every coach and player fairly, and Coach Pres' return is a matter of course."

Nelson didn't speak - words were never his strong point, he just stared at Weather, his eyes flashed with unquestionable perseverance.

Weather's head began to thrill again, and his face slowly pulled down, "Jody, are you a star in the offensive team, or the core of our team, and the hero of this city. You should know how to do it! Don't be as obedient as a five-year-old child, shoulder your responsibilities and obligations!"

Weather's stern rebuke consumed the little energy left. Nelson did not answer, but raised his right hand. At this time, Weather noticed that Nelson was holding his No. 82 jersey in his hand. He spread the jersey wide and placed it on Weather's desk.

"I think, that's what I'm doing."

Understand but unwavering, Nelson finally expressed his position.

Weather opened his mouth slightly and tried to say something: Do you know what you are doing? Do you know what this means to Pres, to 6 Yiqi? Do you know how ridiculous this is? Do you know you are making a stupid mistake? Are you awake?

But the continuous throbbing sun made him lose his ability to think and his language skills, and he just stared at Nelson blankly.

Nelson seemed to have done the simplest thing, politely signaled to Weather Jaw, and then left the office.

...

The entire locker room has been cleared, and there is no shadow in the empty room.

"Bang!"

Someone in the corner closed the cabinet door heavily, and the loud sound broke the tranquility. Only then did he notice that Jacob Giesen still did not leave.

Jacob was full of anger and annoyance, as well as confusion and depression, but he was like a trapped beast, and still couldn't find an answer, "Say something? Are you not the one who is best at speaking? Don't you know how to bewitch people's hearts the most? Why are you no longer sounding now?"

Diagonally opposite, Henry Giesen sat quietly on the bench, his shadow blocked by the support column, so he was not seen.

Henry supported his hands on his knees, his entire spine had already lowered. He raised his head slightly and looked at the empty locker room with his eyes, his eyes dimmed slightly: If possible, he wanted anything, but he had no courage after all, so he could only sit there and be bored.

He needed to stay for Jacob, but he didn't need to deal with Jacob's anger. He just kept silent and sat quietly.

"Speak! Say something!" Jacob became more and more angry, standing in place like a madman, yelling, but receiving no response, so he couldn't tell whether he was on fire at Henry or on himself, the feeling was simply terrible.

"Ah! Ahhh!" Jacob roared out of control.

...

Weather's eyes fell on the No. 82 jersey, trying to make a little sound, but all the sounds were stuck in his throat.

what to do?

what does that mean?

Before Weather's headache-breaking brain started to work and think again, there was another knock at the door, raised his eyes, and then he saw Banks - and Walker standing at the door and being suppressed. Obviously, there were others behind him, controlling the excited Walker.

Banks walked in first, put his jersey on Weather's desk, and said firmly, "So too, Mr. Weather. I hope Coach Archie can be treated fairly."

Weather opened his mouth and finally found his voice, "Do you know what you are doing?"

Banks paused slightly when he turned away, but his voice did not hesitate at all, "Yes, as transparent as crystal."

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