Chapter One: The Human Passing Machine

Kai said nothing. An undrafted rookie had no guaranteed money and half a locker. Four thousand passing yards in his senior season had been reduced by scouts to two missing inches of height, a small-school schedule, and one killing phrase: lacks privileged tools. His pass traveled forty-five yards. Eli Brooks caught up at the sideline, but the ball bounced from his fingertips. The defense laughed. “Butterfingers!” cornerback Tyler Dane shouted. “Fourth quarterback, seventh receiver. Perfect pair.” Eli's fingers trembled as he retrieved the ball. “It isn't your hands,” Kai told him quietly. “Your last three steps accelerate. Your eyes find the boundary before the ball.” “I know,” Eli said. “Knowing doesn't fix it.”