So, straight up, the Heisman Trophy winner is always the big cheese, grabbing all the spotlight. Every NCAA football player dreams of snagging that trophy, busting their butts for it. Even the journos can't get enough of it. Come draft time, the Heisman winner's always the hot pick.
Cam Newton? Man, his name's been echoing all season long. But he was at Auburn in the SEC, so he didn't get to clash with the Pac-12. Today was the first time I saw the dude in person.
Seeing Cam strut around like he owned the place, Luke wasn't having it. He just shrugged, "Sorry, Tom."
Luke was throwing shade, comparing Cam to Tom Brady. Tom was just okay in college and got picked 199th by the Patriots. Who knew he'd become a legend?
Luke's point? Big deal if you won the Heisman. It's just college fame. The league's full of Heisman winners who flopped.
That one-liner hit Cam like a brick. You could almost see the fire in his eyes. He looked ready to tear Luke apart, muscles all tensed up.
But Luke stayed chill, turning to his buddies, "This place is dead. Let's bounce."
"Damn!" Cam lost it and charged, fists flying. But Logan stepped up, blocking the punch.
Before things got wild, a gunshot rang out, freezing everyone. Luke and Marcus pulled Logan back, while Cam's crew held him. The bar owner barked, "I'm serious! Quiet down or get out!"
Luke had known guns were everywhere since he moved to the U.S. at eight, but this was the first time he'd heard one so close. He asked the bar owner, "Do you use that for hunting?"
The owner just gave a wry smile and knocked on the table, "If you wanna keep drinking lemonade, find another bar. This ain't New York." Folks in the Midwest often have beef with big cities like New York.
Luke laughed, "Sorry, he's underage." He patted Logan's shoulder, joking. The legal drinking age is twenty-one, and Logan was definitely over that. Everyone laughed.
Luke tossed some cash on the bar, covering the lemonade and tip, then called Logan and Marcus to leave.
"Hey, you guys got names?" Cam yelled, but he was holding back 'cause he knew the bar owner wasn't kidding. "Which coward was mouthing off?"
"And which loser can't take a hit?" Luke shot back, laughter echoing. "If you're so tough, prove it on the field. Don't whine like a baby." Cam had started the trash talk, and Luke was just giving it back.
Without waiting for a reply, Luke pushed open the bar door and walked out, the three of them leaving with a string of curses behind them.
They exchanged glances and burst into laughter.
In the parking lot, Marcus shook his head, "Bambi, seriously? You don't know Cam Newton?"
"What do you think? I'm a journalism major." Luke knew, he just didn't connect the face to the name at first. Plus, there were four of them, so he didn't get a good look.
Marcus and Logan laughed harder, and Logan said, "Those guys are big names, Nick Fairley, Marcell Dareus, James Carpenter. They’re all at least second-round picks."
"So? You scared?" Luke's question got him a punch in the chest from Logan, who declared, "Bring 'em on. I can take 'em all down myself."
"Sure you won't be the one getting pinned down?" Marcus chimed in, and the three of them cracked up again.
Rookie training camp is like a hotbed for young guns, all swagger and short fuses. You can bet there's gonna be some serious friction. They hadn't even set foot in camp yet, and sparks were already flying.
"Isn't rookie camp supposed to be a big deal? Even if fans aren't swarming, there should be tons of journos, scouts, and staff. Why was the bar so dead? And we end up running into a bunch of wimps, what a buzzkill!" Logan grumbled as they rolled up to the official hotel. After parking, they headed towards the lobby.
The camp officially kicked off tomorrow, but all the rookies had to check in this afternoon.
The glass doors slid open, and a wave of hot air hit them, mixed with the buzz of a packed crowd. The lobby was jammed, like a summer music fest. The heat on their skin made their blood boil.
Thinking back to the empty bar, the three of them were a bit stunned. The contrast was wild, filling their heads with questions.
"Welcome to the Indianapolis Marriott Hotel," a doorman in a black uniform greeted them with a slight smile. "Need any help?" He eyed the three of them, then asked, "NFL rookie training camp?"
Logan nodded, then snapped to attention, "What's with all these people? Are they all here for the camp?"
Two hundred, three hundred people—those were just numbers. Seeing it in person was a whole different ball game. It seemed the bar was empty 'cause everyone was here.
"Yep," the doorman said with a big grin. "Many just arrived and are checking in. After that, you can head to your rooms or hang out in the lobby to meet some new faces." He looked around, "Got any luggage that needs a hand?"
"Yeah, thanks," Logan said, tossing his bags on the cart. They were staying for four days, and while the league provided uniforms, they brought their own casual clothes, plus changes of underwear, socks, and sneakers. He turned to Luke and Marcus, "Guys, throw your stuff on here. Let's check in and see our room assignments."
Logan and Marcus rushed ahead, making a racket, but Luke slowed down, his heart pounding. This was the rookie training camp. Six months ago, it was just a dream, one that seemed out of reach. But now, he was here, standing in the Marriott lobby, right in the thick of it.
He liked it here, even the hot air that made it hard to breathe.
He glanced around and saw a bunch of familiar faces.
USC's offensive tackle Tyron Smith, Wisconsin's defensive end Justin James Watt, Washington's quarterback Jack Locker, Cal's defensive end Cameron Jordan, LSU's cornerback Patrick Peterson.
Some were opponents from the season, some were faces from NCAA media, some were names he'd heard on the radio and online, and some were juniors here early for the draft. Most were seniors, ready to graduate. These guys were first or second-round picks, set to go pro and shine, with no worries about their draft stock. Whether they'd live up to the hype or flop as pros, only time would tell.
What Luke knew for sure was that future stars were here, sharing the same room, standing on the same stage, starting from the same line! Did that mean he could become a top star too? Just thinking about it got him hyped.
Suddenly, a voice echoed in Luke's mind. This wasn't just a random thought but a system task? Luke didn't get why a system task would pop up now. Was it good or bad?
He summoned the system, opened the unread message, and saw a bright word: Special Task!