Searching For- Sidelined The Qb And Me In- Review

Dallas went very still.

"Quad sets," he said.

"Searching," he said.

His knee held.

He drank it anyway.

I was searching for a ghost.

"Yeah," he said. "Took me twelve nights, but I think I did." Three months later, Dallas Fielder threw a forty-yard spiral on a wet Tuesday in front of sixteen NFL scouts. Searching For- Sidelined The QB And Me In-

He was quiet for a long time. Then he shifted on the table, swung his legs over the side, and stood. No crutches. No brace. Just him, balancing on two legs, one of which still wasn't quite right.

On the twelfth night, he asked the question I’d been dreading.

And some things find you.

He blinked. "Excuse me?"

He didn’t look up. "Neither are you."

I was standing on the sideline, clipboard in hand, heart in my throat. Dallas went very still

And Dallas Fielder, for the first time in his charmed life, was sidelined.

"Because my dad was a quarterback," I said. "Small college. Nothing like this. He blew out his knee in his senior year. No one helped him rehab it right. He gained forty pounds, lost his scholarship, lost his mind. By the time I was ten, he could barely walk up the stairs."