Jimmy rolled out of bed and stumbled to his dresser to find his bottle of tequila. After a shot he woke up, nothing wakes him up better. Walking away he thought, [i]What the hell, conditioning is easy.[/i] Jimmy took another shot and got dressed. He took a step outside and marveled at the weather, it was perfect. Taking the somewhat short jog from the Watch Tower Jimmy arrived at the practice field's field house. 

The locker room was abuzz with the preseason excitement. The other freshman who didn't make it seemed to be following around that hot shot Rafa like a cult following. The only other Russian in football Bustamante could even think of was the kicker in an old Simpsons episode, but race never mattered to Jimmy. People always used to tell him he was a dirty beaner who wouldn't amount to anything, but look where he is now. After his moment of personal reflection Jimmy hurried getting dressed and made his way out just in time to hear Coach.

Jimmy hated stretching, well hate is a strong word. At this moment all he wanted to do was fuck shit up and maybe show off a bit. He heard Brick say,

“How soon til we make the pads start popping coach?! I got a fever! And the only prescription is some good ol' contact!” Jimmy knew exactly how he felt. On the field his veins ran with a mixture of hot lead, grain alcohol, and adrenaline. Luckily it wasn't too long before stretches ended and they separated into Indy O and Indy D. 

Against one of the practice team Wide Receivers, Jimmy was ready. The tingles down his spine told his it was time to be amazing. The QB hiked it and the 6'6" corner let the Wide Receiver hit the 3 yard mark before he smashed him before the pass was even completed. Technically it was legal, but the Defensive Back coach still sent him to tough the upright since he was supposed to run . After Jimmy made it back he hopped to the front and hoped the QB was ready for an interception.