“Let’s go,” Darryl eventually mutters to a couple of his buddies. One of them—a safety I haven’t interacted with much yet—gives me a sneer as he goes, “Watch it, Callahan. Coach Gomez might’ve gone out of his way to bring you here, but you’re not untouchable.” “Aw,” I say. “Is that your crappy attempt at shit talking? No wonder Notre Dame ran all over you today.”
