LSU campus. The weekend before the Tiger football team officially reports for the beginning of fall football practices. Leonard Fournette sleeps in the bedroom of his West Campus Apartment soundly. It is 3 a.m.
A lamp suddenly comes on, waking him up. It is shining in the middle of the room. There is a card table and two chairs. In one, sits Les Miles.
Miles: Good evening son. Time to wake up. Work to do.
Leonard rubs his palms in his eyes, then sits up with a start.
Leonard, very startled: WHATHAFU-COACH?!! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?!!!
Miles: Were you sleeping Leonard?
Leonard: I'M NEVER GOING TO SLEEP AGAIN!!! This is just SO DAMN WEIRD COACH! LIKE NOT EVEN REMOTELY COOL AT ALL!!
Miles: Oh now c'mon son. Camp starts tomorrow...
Fournette: YEAH AND I WAS GETTING SOME GOOD SLEEP FOR IT TIL YOU WOKE MY ASS UP
Miles: Calm down son. Have a seat. We have some things to talk about.
The coach holds up a shot glass full of green liquid, and gestures to a bottle full next to him and a second, empty glass.
Fournette: NO. NO. NO!!! All of this is ridiculously weird and you showed up in my bedroom in the middle of the night and you're offering me a drink now? FUCKING WEIRD COACH.
Miles downs the shot in his hand, wincing briefly.
Miles: Leonard, do you know why you're here?
Leonard: I THOUGHT IT WAS TO PLAY FOOTBALL BUT APPARENTLY IT'S TO BE CREEPED OUT BY MY HEAD COACH AND HIS WEIRD SPEECHES.
Miles: Son, you really need to mellow out. Sit down. Have a drink. Trust me, you won't have much fun here if you don't learn that last part.
Leonard shakes his head, but gets out of bed and sits down.
Leonard: So what the hell is this? It smells like shit coach.
Miles, pouring himself a shot: Son, do you remember what I told you on the day you arrived?
Leonard: Something about going round and round.
Miles: I told you, that time is a flat circle. You see son, what that means, is that everything you do here, you've done before.
Miles: Do you know why you're so confused, son?
Leonard: Because this is all so damned weird.
Miles: No. It's because you're not asking the right fuckin' questions!
Miles: All this time, you've never asked what I want you to be ready for.
Miles pours Leonard a shot.
Leonard: You want me to be ready for football, and I'm the most ready football player you'll ever coach! You knew what I could do when you recruited me!
Miles: Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe you need to kill that drink already. I damn sure didn't recruit you to wuss out now!
They both slam down their drinks. Leonard recoils hard.
Leonard: What the hell was that?
Miles: Tiger Stadium in a glass. Bermuda. Seltzer. Grenadine.
Leonard: You telling me this is grass juice?
Miles: Is that a problem for you?
Leonard: Why the hell would you drink this?
Miles: Because son. You have to know the field you play on. You have to feel it. You have to have part of that field in you if you want to learn the lessons that it has to teach you.
Leonard: ...don't follow...
Miles: Think son...you may volunteer for the field, but that doesn't mean the field chooses you...
The field understands that sometimes you have to wait until the end of the battle to fire your biggest gun...
And most importantly, the field understands that a couple of inches may seem like a mile.
Leonard, confused, still downs his drink. Miles laughs and slams one back himself.
Leonard: AAAAH THAT IS GROSS
Miles: BUT YOU FEEL GOOD!
Leonard: I THINK I MIGHT
Miles: YOU FEEL READY!
Leonard: GODDAMN RIGHT
Miles: Good. See you in the morning son.
He reaches up, pulls the light chord. The room goes dark.