Chapter 54

“Who is like you?” Jeremiah screamed, his thick, eye black sporting Dave’s old “35.”

“No one,” they shouted, raising their fists to the night sky.

“Who is like me?” he added, thumping his chest.

“No one,” they cried.

“Who is like us?” he added, spreading his arms wide.

“No one,” they shouted, beating their chests as their voices rose as one. All that was missing, Quinn thought, were sabers to rattle.

It would take more than bravado to beat the Steers, who had the beefiest D-line in the league. There was a part of Quinn that was afraid—not of being sacked or hurt but of losing.

“Have courage, and life will meet you halfway,” he kept repeating to himself.

But how do you have courage? Was it something you could just summon at will, or was it innate? Many people talked the talk but failed to walk the walk. They were all parade, no battle—so great in the regular season, so disappointing in the postseason. The reverse was also true. What was the secret of those who were so clutch?