nah you think she'd do our guy like that? nah
By Valor and Arms.
By Valor and Arms.
By Valor and Arms.
Chapter Twenty One: The Opening Act
James kept talking to himself under his breath as he went through warmups, careful to keep it just low enough to not draw any attention to it. He had been unsuccessful in his attempts to talk himself into this being just another game.
East Side’s undefeated season had quickly been shot down a peg by regional pundits, attributing their success to the down year in the district with LeFlore County being their only district opponent to finish the year with a winning record.
He would occasionally glance up into the stands, for the first time not seeing his No. 12 jersey in the stands next to his mom, sister and brothers. The silver lining in them taking a break from their relationship was proving not to be true at all as it did not enhance his focus on the playoffs but instead served as an unneeded distraction.
James Sr. kept his distance but kept a watchful eye on his son, trying to gauge his level of confidence and poise. They had found themselves in a tougher game than it needed to be on senior night against one win Velma Jackson High School in which a late defensive stop was needed to secure the win.
He’d need his son and now star quarterback to rise up, even higher than before.
...
“That ball cut through the air and into the hands of Craig Ostrander for the pickup of twenty-four yards there on that trustworthy connection to get the game started!”
...
“Fakes it to the senior Alex Howell and it’s going to be a completion to Michael Weisbecker, the talented tight end, to keep Meridian on their heels on this drive.”
...
James confidently looked to the sidelines, awaiting the next play to come in. Despite their impressive record, Meridian’s plotting style of defense with size everywhere was no match for the Trojans spread out attack which took advantage of their slow footed linebackers and safeties.
“Red 30! We’re good, we’re good!” James barked to Jarvis, the only place in the world where they were still communicating, “Blue 19! Blue 19! Set! Hut!”
James immediately noticed that the cornerback to his right was in a bail technique, growing tired of the cheers from the crowd as East Side kept picking up chunk plays. As soon as Craig planted his right leg to turn back towards James, the ball was already out of James’ hands, allowing Craig to catch the ball before the corner had even gotten out of his back pedal. Craig lowered his shoulder into him for good measure before stumbling into the endzone.
...
“Meridian’s defense still has no answers as that’s a pickup of thirty yards, right down the middle of the defense as James Earl Little Jr. is simply dicing them up!”
...
James was beaming with excitement as they left the huddle with coach Harrison having just called up one of his favorite plays. He had set the cadence to set, anxious to get it going and not wanting any procedural penalties to wipe it out.
He waited back for a moment, allowing the offense to get set before rushing under center, “Set!”
The defense was not ready with the defenders hastily dropping into their zone, once again leaving the middle of the field wide open for James’ intended target with Craig walking into the endzone.
It wasn’t supposed to be this easy.
...
Even when Meridian did things right, it still didn’t go their way. With the game getting out of hand, the defense hunkered down, deciding to sit on every route which was the perfect technique on third and three from their own five-yard line.
It was a simple hitch concept with all four receivers running the same route out of a mirrored bunch formation.
Despite it looking covered initially, James stuck with it and stayed in the pocket just long enough for a defender’s movement post-read to give Chris a crease of an opening which James quickly capitalized on for the touchdown.
The rout was fully on.
...
James had grown tired of waiting for his dad who had decided to have an impromptu coaches meeting after the game to get a head start on Shaw, who they had started the season against and would be rematching in the next round of the playoffs.
While James was slightly annoyed in having to walk home, he was also glad that his father hadn’t forced him to stick around for the rewatching of the season opener as well as some cut-ups of Shaw’s games this season as the team had drastically improved, finishing the year with a ten game winning streak.
The nature of the playoff game had allowed for James to gradually come off the high with him sitting out most of the fourth quarter. By the time they reached the lockers, it had already been close to an hour since he was last on the field, throwing his fifth touchdown pass of the night.
James’ peaceful walk back home was soon interrupted by the sound of music blasting from a pair of cars that sped past him before one of them reversed until they were now within arm reach of James on the sidewalk.
“Get in, loser. We’re having fun tonight.”
...
The bun to hamburger meat ratio was just perfect as James bit into it once more, savoring the last few bites of the burger while continuously making a dent in the basket of fries next to it.
“You fucking that shit up,” Chris teased, pointing to his quarterback, “That nigga was hungry, for real.”
“Damn right,” James was unabashed, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his wrist, “I’m going to start taxing y’all for y’all pre-game meals if y’all want some targets in the game.”
“I’d do anything to get the looks you are giving Craig,” Chris shook his head, “I’d have a thousand yards in half the season.”
“Get open then,” Craig continued the good-natured ribbing, “Not my fault you be trying to sauce them up, do all them fancy shit.”
“It’s called footwork,” Chris replied back, “I got the best release on the team and it ain’t even close.”
“Geo might have you beat there,” James added fuel to the fire, “We just know it’s not T-Money.”
“Fuck you,” Thien shook his head while cracking a slight smile, knowing it was true.
The half-Nigerian, half-Vietnamese receiver was a force to be reckoned with in the weight room but it never looked pretty on the field, using his brute strength to get off press coverage and his long, sometimes awkward strides to get open.
“I love all my children,” James said sarcastically to the group of receivers which had invited him to their post-game meal at the local diner, a tradition that coach Xavier had started during his playing days and passed on to the group.
James appreciated the invite as his social circle had shrunk to a donut with going ons with Michael earlier in the season, Jarvis as of late and now his relationship with Anabelle, and by extension her friends, on hold.
Just as James’ mind started to wander to the pie selections, a group of loquacious girls just happened to walk in.
“Hey ladies,” Chris flashed a smile, even going as far as blowing a kiss towards them as they took their seats a few booths removed from theirs.
“You a little boy,” Rose smiled back at Chris, “Ain’t he cute?”
“His daddy is,” Summer replied with a scoff before noticing James, “Hey James!”
“Hey,” James nodded towards their direction, locking eyes with Alexis who cracked a smile before disappearing into the booth.
“Put us on,” Chris urged James, “They bad as fuck, especially the tall one.”
“Alexis some pressure,” Geo agreed, “No disrespect to you or your girl or anything but that whole crew, ain’t no ugly friends between them.”
“Take his girl out,” Craig suggested to the group, “Who's the baddest one? My money on Rose.”
“You’re only saying that because she is light skinned,” Thien answered, “She might be the only one your folks might let you take home.”
“My momma’s first baby daddy is black,” Craig quickly corrected him.
“And that’s exactly why your daddy would kill your ass and hers if you brought a colored bitch home,” Chris joked, sending the entire group including James into a laugh fest, drawing the attention of several patrons, including the girls.
“Y’all not that funny,” Rose lifted her head up to address them.
“Why don’t you come find out?” Chris blurted out, sending her back to hear seat, “Come on, let’s get at them, I’m trying to fuck on something.”
James and Thien remained seated as Chris, Craig and Geo got up to go talk to the girls. Thien wasn’t interested as he had a girlfriend of his own while James had preferred to watch the train wreck from afar.
It appeared to be working as James could overhear from laughter coming from their booth. He then overheard what he thought was his name said by one of the girls and was then followed by Chris calling for him.
“12,” Chris called him, “Come over here, man, they are asking for you.”
He got up, wiping the crumbs of food on his lap off his sweats before walking over there where the boys had squeezed themselves into the boot. He stood there, facing the group.
“What’s up?”
“Tell these girls that we’re a bunch of trustworthy boys that will show them a great time tonight and get them home safely,” Chris motioned towards James.
“I can vouch for some of them,” James teased, “As for Chris here, I don’t know, he’s a tough case.”
“Aight, get the fuck out. See why you can’t trust niggas?” Chris turned towards Rose, shaking his head, “He’s only saying that because I dropped a pass today. I usually have reliable hands, soft and reliable hands.”
“This nigga like twelve talking like this,” Rose kept poking at the sophomore although she did find him attractive with his soft features.
“Excuse me,” Alexis tapped Craig on the shoulder, who was sitting to her left and at the edge of the booth.
She had avoided eye contact with James since he had arrived at their booth and was now hurrying herself out of the booth and eventually out of the restaurant and into the parking lot.
It struck James as a bit odd at first but he continued talking to the group before realizing that Alexis was still out there, pacing in the parking lot as he peeked through the glass double doors that led into the diner.
“I’ll be back,” James told the group as he followed her outside, tucking his hands into his hoodie sweater as the weather had began to turn.
“You’re not cold?” he asked her as he approached her, “I thought maybe you were taking a smoke break or something.”
“I promised my mom I would quit,” she muttered, “Again.”
“That’s good,” James nodded his head, “You sure you don’t want to go back in?”
“Not right now,” she shook her head.
It had just dawned on James that this was their first solo conversation since that night and likely her first time being around a bunch of football players again.
“What happened that night, I’m so sorry. I don’t know...I don’t know why Jarvis did it, really doesn’t matter or anything but....I don’t know, I guess I’m just trying to say I’m sorry for everything that happened, putting you in that situation and even not apologizing sooner, I just got caught up in my shit that I forgot that you’re really the one that something fucked up too happened that night.”
“It’s fine,” she wiped her nose, “Don’t worry about it, it’s not your fault, it wasn’t even a big deal anyway.”
“It is,” James insisted, “I should have done more, he probably shouldn’t even be fucking playing right now.”
“Don’t,” she stopped him, “Let’s just let the night die, okay? The sun came up, it’s over, we can all just move on.”
James nodded, “If you ever need anything.”
“Sure,” she blew into her hands before walking past him and back into the diner.
James kept talking to himself under his breath as he went through warmups, careful to keep it just low enough to not draw any attention to it. He had been unsuccessful in his attempts to talk himself into this being just another game.
East Side’s undefeated season had quickly been shot down a peg by regional pundits, attributing their success to the down year in the district with LeFlore County being their only district opponent to finish the year with a winning record.
He would occasionally glance up into the stands, for the first time not seeing his No. 12 jersey in the stands next to his mom, sister and brothers. The silver lining in them taking a break from their relationship was proving not to be true at all as it did not enhance his focus on the playoffs but instead served as an unneeded distraction.
James Sr. kept his distance but kept a watchful eye on his son, trying to gauge his level of confidence and poise. They had found themselves in a tougher game than it needed to be on senior night against one win Velma Jackson High School in which a late defensive stop was needed to secure the win.
He’d need his son and now star quarterback to rise up, even higher than before.
...
“That ball cut through the air and into the hands of Craig Ostrander for the pickup of twenty-four yards there on that trustworthy connection to get the game started!”
...
“Fakes it to the senior Alex Howell and it’s going to be a completion to Michael Weisbecker, the talented tight end, to keep Meridian on their heels on this drive.”
...
James confidently looked to the sidelines, awaiting the next play to come in. Despite their impressive record, Meridian’s plotting style of defense with size everywhere was no match for the Trojans spread out attack which took advantage of their slow footed linebackers and safeties.
“Red 30! We’re good, we’re good!” James barked to Jarvis, the only place in the world where they were still communicating, “Blue 19! Blue 19! Set! Hut!”
James immediately noticed that the cornerback to his right was in a bail technique, growing tired of the cheers from the crowd as East Side kept picking up chunk plays. As soon as Craig planted his right leg to turn back towards James, the ball was already out of James’ hands, allowing Craig to catch the ball before the corner had even gotten out of his back pedal. Craig lowered his shoulder into him for good measure before stumbling into the endzone.
...
“Meridian’s defense still has no answers as that’s a pickup of thirty yards, right down the middle of the defense as James Earl Little Jr. is simply dicing them up!”
...
James was beaming with excitement as they left the huddle with coach Harrison having just called up one of his favorite plays. He had set the cadence to set, anxious to get it going and not wanting any procedural penalties to wipe it out.
He waited back for a moment, allowing the offense to get set before rushing under center, “Set!”
The defense was not ready with the defenders hastily dropping into their zone, once again leaving the middle of the field wide open for James’ intended target with Craig walking into the endzone.
It wasn’t supposed to be this easy.
...
Even when Meridian did things right, it still didn’t go their way. With the game getting out of hand, the defense hunkered down, deciding to sit on every route which was the perfect technique on third and three from their own five-yard line.
It was a simple hitch concept with all four receivers running the same route out of a mirrored bunch formation.
Despite it looking covered initially, James stuck with it and stayed in the pocket just long enough for a defender’s movement post-read to give Chris a crease of an opening which James quickly capitalized on for the touchdown.
The rout was fully on.
...
James had grown tired of waiting for his dad who had decided to have an impromptu coaches meeting after the game to get a head start on Shaw, who they had started the season against and would be rematching in the next round of the playoffs.
While James was slightly annoyed in having to walk home, he was also glad that his father hadn’t forced him to stick around for the rewatching of the season opener as well as some cut-ups of Shaw’s games this season as the team had drastically improved, finishing the year with a ten game winning streak.
The nature of the playoff game had allowed for James to gradually come off the high with him sitting out most of the fourth quarter. By the time they reached the lockers, it had already been close to an hour since he was last on the field, throwing his fifth touchdown pass of the night.
James’ peaceful walk back home was soon interrupted by the sound of music blasting from a pair of cars that sped past him before one of them reversed until they were now within arm reach of James on the sidewalk.
“Get in, loser. We’re having fun tonight.”
...
The bun to hamburger meat ratio was just perfect as James bit into it once more, savoring the last few bites of the burger while continuously making a dent in the basket of fries next to it.
“You fucking that shit up,” Chris teased, pointing to his quarterback, “That nigga was hungry, for real.”
“Damn right,” James was unabashed, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his wrist, “I’m going to start taxing y’all for y’all pre-game meals if y’all want some targets in the game.”
“I’d do anything to get the looks you are giving Craig,” Chris shook his head, “I’d have a thousand yards in half the season.”
“Get open then,” Craig continued the good-natured ribbing, “Not my fault you be trying to sauce them up, do all them fancy shit.”
“It’s called footwork,” Chris replied back, “I got the best release on the team and it ain’t even close.”
“Geo might have you beat there,” James added fuel to the fire, “We just know it’s not T-Money.”
“Fuck you,” Thien shook his head while cracking a slight smile, knowing it was true.
The half-Nigerian, half-Vietnamese receiver was a force to be reckoned with in the weight room but it never looked pretty on the field, using his brute strength to get off press coverage and his long, sometimes awkward strides to get open.
“I love all my children,” James said sarcastically to the group of receivers which had invited him to their post-game meal at the local diner, a tradition that coach Xavier had started during his playing days and passed on to the group.
James appreciated the invite as his social circle had shrunk to a donut with going ons with Michael earlier in the season, Jarvis as of late and now his relationship with Anabelle, and by extension her friends, on hold.
Just as James’ mind started to wander to the pie selections, a group of loquacious girls just happened to walk in.
“Hey ladies,” Chris flashed a smile, even going as far as blowing a kiss towards them as they took their seats a few booths removed from theirs.
“You a little boy,” Rose smiled back at Chris, “Ain’t he cute?”
“His daddy is,” Summer replied with a scoff before noticing James, “Hey James!”
“Hey,” James nodded towards their direction, locking eyes with Alexis who cracked a smile before disappearing into the booth.
“Put us on,” Chris urged James, “They bad as fuck, especially the tall one.”
“Alexis some pressure,” Geo agreed, “No disrespect to you or your girl or anything but that whole crew, ain’t no ugly friends between them.”
“Take his girl out,” Craig suggested to the group, “Who's the baddest one? My money on Rose.”
“You’re only saying that because she is light skinned,” Thien answered, “She might be the only one your folks might let you take home.”
“My momma’s first baby daddy is black,” Craig quickly corrected him.
“And that’s exactly why your daddy would kill your ass and hers if you brought a colored bitch home,” Chris joked, sending the entire group including James into a laugh fest, drawing the attention of several patrons, including the girls.
“Y’all not that funny,” Rose lifted her head up to address them.
“Why don’t you come find out?” Chris blurted out, sending her back to hear seat, “Come on, let’s get at them, I’m trying to fuck on something.”
James and Thien remained seated as Chris, Craig and Geo got up to go talk to the girls. Thien wasn’t interested as he had a girlfriend of his own while James had preferred to watch the train wreck from afar.
It appeared to be working as James could overhear from laughter coming from their booth. He then overheard what he thought was his name said by one of the girls and was then followed by Chris calling for him.
“12,” Chris called him, “Come over here, man, they are asking for you.”
He got up, wiping the crumbs of food on his lap off his sweats before walking over there where the boys had squeezed themselves into the boot. He stood there, facing the group.
“What’s up?”
“Tell these girls that we’re a bunch of trustworthy boys that will show them a great time tonight and get them home safely,” Chris motioned towards James.
“I can vouch for some of them,” James teased, “As for Chris here, I don’t know, he’s a tough case.”
“Aight, get the fuck out. See why you can’t trust niggas?” Chris turned towards Rose, shaking his head, “He’s only saying that because I dropped a pass today. I usually have reliable hands, soft and reliable hands.”
“This nigga like twelve talking like this,” Rose kept poking at the sophomore although she did find him attractive with his soft features.
“Excuse me,” Alexis tapped Craig on the shoulder, who was sitting to her left and at the edge of the booth.
She had avoided eye contact with James since he had arrived at their booth and was now hurrying herself out of the booth and eventually out of the restaurant and into the parking lot.
It struck James as a bit odd at first but he continued talking to the group before realizing that Alexis was still out there, pacing in the parking lot as he peeked through the glass double doors that led into the diner.
“I’ll be back,” James told the group as he followed her outside, tucking his hands into his hoodie sweater as the weather had began to turn.
“You’re not cold?” he asked her as he approached her, “I thought maybe you were taking a smoke break or something.”
“I promised my mom I would quit,” she muttered, “Again.”
“That’s good,” James nodded his head, “You sure you don’t want to go back in?”
“Not right now,” she shook her head.
It had just dawned on James that this was their first solo conversation since that night and likely her first time being around a bunch of football players again.
“What happened that night, I’m so sorry. I don’t know...I don’t know why Jarvis did it, really doesn’t matter or anything but....I don’t know, I guess I’m just trying to say I’m sorry for everything that happened, putting you in that situation and even not apologizing sooner, I just got caught up in my shit that I forgot that you’re really the one that something fucked up too happened that night.”
“It’s fine,” she wiped her nose, “Don’t worry about it, it’s not your fault, it wasn’t even a big deal anyway.”
“It is,” James insisted, “I should have done more, he probably shouldn’t even be fucking playing right now.”
“Don’t,” she stopped him, “Let’s just let the night die, okay? The sun came up, it’s over, we can all just move on.”
James nodded, “If you ever need anything.”
“Sure,” she blew into her hands before walking past him and back into the diner.
Last edited by Soapy on 26 Sep 2023, 10:48, edited 1 time in total.
By Valor and Arms.
Chapter Twenty Two: Like a Balloon
James lifted his right leg off the ground, placing the now swollen ankle on his bed as he continued to examine it. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was doing but he had seen trainers over the years do it so he mimicked them, massaging different parts of his lower leg to try to determine where the issue was.
He grimaced as the pain was right above the ball of his ankle, hurting every time he flexed his ankle. He tried to replay the game in his head to pinpoint where he could have injured but it was a relatively easy game with the line doing their job and James wasn’t one to scramble to begin with.
How it happened ultimately didn’t matter as James got up to his feet and hobbled himself to the bathroom to get ready for what was promising to be a tough week.
...
“Red 18! Red 18!”
Ryan looked to both sides before clapping his hand and then receiving the snap that was a few inches above his head, causing him to have to do a slight hop to bring the ball down. Once he did, his feet were all over the place before flinging a wobbly ball in the general direction of Chris as it one-hopped to his thigh.
“Bro,” Chris groaned as he walked back to the huddle, “Come on, man.”
“It’s alright,” coach Harrison tried to calm down the group, “Let’s run it again, come on.”
James watched from the sidelines with his heavily taped ankle as Ryan threw it high to Chris who had to jump to get a finger on it, only to tip it right into the arm of a defender.
The scout defense was hooping and hollering, a common scene throughout the week as Ryan had struggled to get command of the offense.
...
“Your brother needs to fix this shit,” Craig didn’t mince words when speaking to Alex as they reached the lockers, “I know he can play, he just needs to get his confidence back up.”
“I be talking to him,” Alex shook his head, “James too but it’s just like he gets in the game and he’s like trying to do everything that they’re telling him instead of just playing.”
Ryan was a talented football player but primarily played in a Wing T offense growing up and the adjustment to coach Harrison’s offense was a steep learning curve as the offense didn’t accentuate Ryan’s stronger points which was his running ability that were akin to his brother’s, the team’s senior running back.
As James slowly took a seat, the chances that the sophomore would have to start his first ever high school game in a playoff game were increasing. The swelling had started to go down but the pain was still there, no matter how intense James had attacked the rehab under the watchful eyes and guiding force of his father.
“He’ll get it right,” James assured the group, “I was stinking it up at practice before my first start, it’s just nerves.”
It had only been a few months but it felt like a lifetime ago.
...
“How was it today?”
“Not bad,” James laid back as Jasmine continued to unfurl the athletic tape that had enveloped his ankle.
He had taken a few snaps during walkthroughs and walking on it was now bearable but anything that required intense flexion of his ankle, including dropping back or driving off his right leg to throw the ball, put him in immense pain.
“You know you don’t have to bullshit me,” she looked at him through her eyebrows as she tilted her head down, “I’m not going to snitch on you, I’m asking as a friend.”
“Better than Monday, probably worse than Wednesday. I didn’t really do much yesterday though so maybe that’s why.”
“Are you thinking about playing?,” she rested her hand on his bare shoulder, “You pretty much have all of the offers you wanted right?”
“I think so,” James shrugged, “I mean, it’s not like I had a list of schools before the season that I wanted or anything but yeah, I’m happy with my offers.”
“I’m not an expert or anything but your ankle is pretty important,” she joked, “You go out and play, hurt your ankle, who knows, I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“Look at you, caring for your patients. You’re definitely not going to be a sports trainer,” James laughed.
“Definitely not,” she shook her head, “You guys are disgusting, obviously not you, but I could never. If the whole team was like you, sure, but the others? No way, I’m good, y’all are just good practice.”
“Happy to help,” James smiled before hopping off the table.
After rarely being in the trainers’ room throughout his time at East Side, it had become his second home for the past week, meeting with Jasmine and Alyssa before school for treatment on his ankle. Jasmine had also been generous with her time to treat him at lunch time as well with additional sessions before and after practice.
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” she told the star quarterback as he waved back before leaving the room.
James tried his best to not show a limp as he walked into the locker room which had cleared out except for the few guys that were still hanging around, including Devon who was exiting the coaches office.
“We’re going to need you this week,” Devon told James, “You’ve been fucking shit up, we wouldn’t be here without you.”
James was taken aback by his statement, not expecting it from Devon who barely spoke to James throughout their four years together.
“It’s getting better,” James dapped him up.
“You’re the leader of the team bro,” Devon continued, “We go as you go, simple as that. I’m going to get the defense right, me and Amari. We need you to keep the offense lighting up like you’ve been doing all season. I know me and your boy Mike don’t fuck with each other but he a dog too, we need all the dogs this Saturday.”
Even James couldn’t deny that Devon was a natural leader.
“I got you,” he nodded.
...
James grimaced in pain as he watched Craig haul the pass in and pick up some extra yards before being tackled to the ground. Coach Harrison had done his best to keep him in the shotgun but it had limited the offense, causing them to go back under center to expand the playbook.
James kept masking the pain with a smile whenever he was around his teammates and coaches but it was approaching unbearable status and they were still in the first quarter.
...
“East Side approaching the end zone here on first and ten, Little Jr. drops back to pass, throws to his left and it’s intercepted! A questionable decision there and it’s going to be Shaw’s football after they pick off the senior here in the red zone!”
...
The second quarter was coming to a close and the Trojans had yet to put points on the board, unheard of for their prolific offense. Coach Harrison had once again put James under center in an effort to spark something.
James dropped back, wincing with every plant of his right ankle before spotting Geo running free up the middle of the field. Ignoring the throbbing pain, James pushed off his right leg and threw it as hard as he could.
The ball floated for a bit, causing Geo to stop and wait for it but that he did, reeling it in for the big pickup to get some momentum on East Side’s sideline.
...
“Little Jr. is going to scramble to his left and there was just nothing there on 3rd and six and it’s going to be fourth down. Another drive fizzles out for the Trojans but it looks like the offense is staying on the field? Yes, they are. Even after the loss of two on the play, they’re going to go for it and fourth and seven and they hurry it up....Little Jr. looks to his left and it’s caught! Thien Nguyen with the grab and it’s going to give the Trojans a first down!”
...
James looked to the heavens, not only thanking them for the conversion but also hoping that the game would come to an end. He simply wasn’t going to last very long in the competition, he might as well go all out.
...
“Little Jr. is pushing the ball down the field now and it’s a pick up of twenty two yards to the tight end Weisbecker.”
...
“He’s got Sarria, touchdown!”
....
“The interception puts the Trojans in scoring territory after some quick passes from Little Jr. who now has the offense humming. They’re back near the goal-line, we’ll see if they go back to the talented slot receiver Geo Sarria. Nope, pitch and catch to Chris Husein out of the slot this time and it’s an easy touchdown for East Side who take the 14-7 lead heading into the half!”
...
“Three straight incompletions to start the half, looks like East Side did not need that halftime break as the offense doesn’t look sharp and they’re going to punt.”
...
“Nearly intercepted there as that was an ill-advised throw by James Earl Little Jr. on that pass across the field.”
...
“Little Jr. finds Ostrander who's been quiet tonight and the defense says they have it? Yes, they do! Looks like Ostrander fumbled the ball before going down and it was picked up by the Shaw defense, still down 14-7 heading into the fourth quarter.”
...
“Third and nine here in the fourth quarter, East Side still up 14-7 with a chance to ice this game with two minutes remaining. Nguyen the motion man, Little Jr. gets the snap...rolls out to his right and he’s going to heave it down the field and it’s intercepted! Shaw has life once more and the defense is going to have to make another stop!”
...
“Come on!” James Sr. yelled to both his offensive coordinator and quarterback as they adjourned on the sideline, “We got to be fucking smarter than that!”
...
“It’s Devon Henry with the interception and he’s going to be tackled at the sixteen yard line! He’s been a thorn in Shaw’s offense all night with two pass breakups and now the timely interception to likely end the game!”
...
“I do this shit!” Devon exclaimed as he came off the field, “This my fucking shit!”
James watched with envy as he hobbled onto the field, trying to ice the game away. He had received the play call from coach Harrison but once he saw the opposing defense, he started barking orders to his unit.
“Kill! Kill!”
The offensive players all placed their hands on their helmet, a signal they had received the audible.
James Sr. was befuddled on the sideline, looking to his offensive coordinator who simply held his hands up.
“Black 30 Trap! Black 30 Trap! Set, hut!”
James received the snap and faked the handoff to Alex with the entire defense swarming to him before pulling the ball out and tossing it out to a wide open Michael who stiff-armed a defender before being tackled near the goal line.
Shaw was quick to call a timeout, sending James directly into his father’s wrath.
“Just run the fucking play!” James Sr. yelled at his quarterback before composing himself, “Listen guys, let’s just get the fuck off the field with a win, okay?”
Once James Sr. walked away from the huddle, coach Harrison gave Junior a wink, “I like what you’re thinking.”
...
“Black 30 Trap! Black 30 Trap!”
This time, it didn’t require an audible. James once again faked the handoff to Alex before finding Michael once again, this time on a drag route in the endzone for the touchdown.
James hurried over to the big tight end, jumping on his back. He could hear him sobbing as he fell to the crowd and was soon mobbed by the entire offense.
“Big Mike!” James yelled in his face as he too was now holding back tears, “Big fucking Mike!”
...
“That was me,” coach Harrison told a heated James Sr. who shook his head with a slight smile.
“You would be ass out tomorrow if that was a pick six,” he shared a hug with his former quarterback, “Both of y’all.”
James lifted his right leg off the ground, placing the now swollen ankle on his bed as he continued to examine it. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was doing but he had seen trainers over the years do it so he mimicked them, massaging different parts of his lower leg to try to determine where the issue was.
He grimaced as the pain was right above the ball of his ankle, hurting every time he flexed his ankle. He tried to replay the game in his head to pinpoint where he could have injured but it was a relatively easy game with the line doing their job and James wasn’t one to scramble to begin with.
How it happened ultimately didn’t matter as James got up to his feet and hobbled himself to the bathroom to get ready for what was promising to be a tough week.
...
“Red 18! Red 18!”
Ryan looked to both sides before clapping his hand and then receiving the snap that was a few inches above his head, causing him to have to do a slight hop to bring the ball down. Once he did, his feet were all over the place before flinging a wobbly ball in the general direction of Chris as it one-hopped to his thigh.
“Bro,” Chris groaned as he walked back to the huddle, “Come on, man.”
“It’s alright,” coach Harrison tried to calm down the group, “Let’s run it again, come on.”
James watched from the sidelines with his heavily taped ankle as Ryan threw it high to Chris who had to jump to get a finger on it, only to tip it right into the arm of a defender.
The scout defense was hooping and hollering, a common scene throughout the week as Ryan had struggled to get command of the offense.
...
“Your brother needs to fix this shit,” Craig didn’t mince words when speaking to Alex as they reached the lockers, “I know he can play, he just needs to get his confidence back up.”
“I be talking to him,” Alex shook his head, “James too but it’s just like he gets in the game and he’s like trying to do everything that they’re telling him instead of just playing.”
Ryan was a talented football player but primarily played in a Wing T offense growing up and the adjustment to coach Harrison’s offense was a steep learning curve as the offense didn’t accentuate Ryan’s stronger points which was his running ability that were akin to his brother’s, the team’s senior running back.
As James slowly took a seat, the chances that the sophomore would have to start his first ever high school game in a playoff game were increasing. The swelling had started to go down but the pain was still there, no matter how intense James had attacked the rehab under the watchful eyes and guiding force of his father.
“He’ll get it right,” James assured the group, “I was stinking it up at practice before my first start, it’s just nerves.”
It had only been a few months but it felt like a lifetime ago.
...
“How was it today?”
“Not bad,” James laid back as Jasmine continued to unfurl the athletic tape that had enveloped his ankle.
He had taken a few snaps during walkthroughs and walking on it was now bearable but anything that required intense flexion of his ankle, including dropping back or driving off his right leg to throw the ball, put him in immense pain.
“You know you don’t have to bullshit me,” she looked at him through her eyebrows as she tilted her head down, “I’m not going to snitch on you, I’m asking as a friend.”
“Better than Monday, probably worse than Wednesday. I didn’t really do much yesterday though so maybe that’s why.”
“Are you thinking about playing?,” she rested her hand on his bare shoulder, “You pretty much have all of the offers you wanted right?”
“I think so,” James shrugged, “I mean, it’s not like I had a list of schools before the season that I wanted or anything but yeah, I’m happy with my offers.”
“I’m not an expert or anything but your ankle is pretty important,” she joked, “You go out and play, hurt your ankle, who knows, I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“Look at you, caring for your patients. You’re definitely not going to be a sports trainer,” James laughed.
“Definitely not,” she shook her head, “You guys are disgusting, obviously not you, but I could never. If the whole team was like you, sure, but the others? No way, I’m good, y’all are just good practice.”
“Happy to help,” James smiled before hopping off the table.
After rarely being in the trainers’ room throughout his time at East Side, it had become his second home for the past week, meeting with Jasmine and Alyssa before school for treatment on his ankle. Jasmine had also been generous with her time to treat him at lunch time as well with additional sessions before and after practice.
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” she told the star quarterback as he waved back before leaving the room.
James tried his best to not show a limp as he walked into the locker room which had cleared out except for the few guys that were still hanging around, including Devon who was exiting the coaches office.
“We’re going to need you this week,” Devon told James, “You’ve been fucking shit up, we wouldn’t be here without you.”
James was taken aback by his statement, not expecting it from Devon who barely spoke to James throughout their four years together.
“It’s getting better,” James dapped him up.
“You’re the leader of the team bro,” Devon continued, “We go as you go, simple as that. I’m going to get the defense right, me and Amari. We need you to keep the offense lighting up like you’ve been doing all season. I know me and your boy Mike don’t fuck with each other but he a dog too, we need all the dogs this Saturday.”
Even James couldn’t deny that Devon was a natural leader.
“I got you,” he nodded.
...
James grimaced in pain as he watched Craig haul the pass in and pick up some extra yards before being tackled to the ground. Coach Harrison had done his best to keep him in the shotgun but it had limited the offense, causing them to go back under center to expand the playbook.
James kept masking the pain with a smile whenever he was around his teammates and coaches but it was approaching unbearable status and they were still in the first quarter.
...
“East Side approaching the end zone here on first and ten, Little Jr. drops back to pass, throws to his left and it’s intercepted! A questionable decision there and it’s going to be Shaw’s football after they pick off the senior here in the red zone!”
...
The second quarter was coming to a close and the Trojans had yet to put points on the board, unheard of for their prolific offense. Coach Harrison had once again put James under center in an effort to spark something.
James dropped back, wincing with every plant of his right ankle before spotting Geo running free up the middle of the field. Ignoring the throbbing pain, James pushed off his right leg and threw it as hard as he could.
The ball floated for a bit, causing Geo to stop and wait for it but that he did, reeling it in for the big pickup to get some momentum on East Side’s sideline.
...
“Little Jr. is going to scramble to his left and there was just nothing there on 3rd and six and it’s going to be fourth down. Another drive fizzles out for the Trojans but it looks like the offense is staying on the field? Yes, they are. Even after the loss of two on the play, they’re going to go for it and fourth and seven and they hurry it up....Little Jr. looks to his left and it’s caught! Thien Nguyen with the grab and it’s going to give the Trojans a first down!”
...
James looked to the heavens, not only thanking them for the conversion but also hoping that the game would come to an end. He simply wasn’t going to last very long in the competition, he might as well go all out.
...
“Little Jr. is pushing the ball down the field now and it’s a pick up of twenty two yards to the tight end Weisbecker.”
...
“He’s got Sarria, touchdown!”
....
“The interception puts the Trojans in scoring territory after some quick passes from Little Jr. who now has the offense humming. They’re back near the goal-line, we’ll see if they go back to the talented slot receiver Geo Sarria. Nope, pitch and catch to Chris Husein out of the slot this time and it’s an easy touchdown for East Side who take the 14-7 lead heading into the half!”
...
“Three straight incompletions to start the half, looks like East Side did not need that halftime break as the offense doesn’t look sharp and they’re going to punt.”
...
“Nearly intercepted there as that was an ill-advised throw by James Earl Little Jr. on that pass across the field.”
...
“Little Jr. finds Ostrander who's been quiet tonight and the defense says they have it? Yes, they do! Looks like Ostrander fumbled the ball before going down and it was picked up by the Shaw defense, still down 14-7 heading into the fourth quarter.”
...
“Third and nine here in the fourth quarter, East Side still up 14-7 with a chance to ice this game with two minutes remaining. Nguyen the motion man, Little Jr. gets the snap...rolls out to his right and he’s going to heave it down the field and it’s intercepted! Shaw has life once more and the defense is going to have to make another stop!”
...
“Come on!” James Sr. yelled to both his offensive coordinator and quarterback as they adjourned on the sideline, “We got to be fucking smarter than that!”
...
“It’s Devon Henry with the interception and he’s going to be tackled at the sixteen yard line! He’s been a thorn in Shaw’s offense all night with two pass breakups and now the timely interception to likely end the game!”
...
“I do this shit!” Devon exclaimed as he came off the field, “This my fucking shit!”
James watched with envy as he hobbled onto the field, trying to ice the game away. He had received the play call from coach Harrison but once he saw the opposing defense, he started barking orders to his unit.
“Kill! Kill!”
The offensive players all placed their hands on their helmet, a signal they had received the audible.
James Sr. was befuddled on the sideline, looking to his offensive coordinator who simply held his hands up.
“Black 30 Trap! Black 30 Trap! Set, hut!”
James received the snap and faked the handoff to Alex with the entire defense swarming to him before pulling the ball out and tossing it out to a wide open Michael who stiff-armed a defender before being tackled near the goal line.
Shaw was quick to call a timeout, sending James directly into his father’s wrath.
“Just run the fucking play!” James Sr. yelled at his quarterback before composing himself, “Listen guys, let’s just get the fuck off the field with a win, okay?”
Once James Sr. walked away from the huddle, coach Harrison gave Junior a wink, “I like what you’re thinking.”
...
“Black 30 Trap! Black 30 Trap!”
This time, it didn’t require an audible. James once again faked the handoff to Alex before finding Michael once again, this time on a drag route in the endzone for the touchdown.
James hurried over to the big tight end, jumping on his back. He could hear him sobbing as he fell to the crowd and was soon mobbed by the entire offense.
“Big Mike!” James yelled in his face as he too was now holding back tears, “Big fucking Mike!”
...
“That was me,” coach Harrison told a heated James Sr. who shook his head with a slight smile.
“You would be ass out tomorrow if that was a pick six,” he shared a hug with his former quarterback, “Both of y’all.”
Last edited by Soapy on 26 Sep 2023, 11:31, edited 1 time in total.
-
Captain Canada
- Posts: 2208
- Joined: 01 Dec 2018, 00:15
By Valor and Arms.
Grit & Grind. Injuries are a myth
By Valor and Arms.
i gotta go to work
By Valor and Arms.
Chapter Twenty Three: Three's Company
"You sure you don't want anything to eat?"
"I'm good," James Sr. shook his head as he remain seated on the edge of the bed, slowly putting his socks on before getting to his feet and walking over to the floor mirror. Even for him, a perpetual morning person since his teenage years, this was a bit too early.
Biloxi's defense had kept him up all night only to have to be up a few hours later for James' treatment on his ankle. The nagging injury was becoming a thorn on James Sr's side as well and his marital affairs as the early morning used to be their only available window for any sort of intimacy in a house full of kids.
"You still got those oatmeal packets in your office if you change your mind," Leanne reminded him as she rubbed his back, "Make sure he eats something too."
"I will," he replied, adjusting the height of the zipper on his quarter-zip.
"How he seem to you?"
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know, I haven't seen Anabelle around lately, really since that night after Homecoming. I know that girl love taking pictures and she sure love showing them to people, pretty as she is, and she ain't shown me none of them from that night, haven't even been around."
"You know he don't talk to me like that," James Sr. shrugged it off, "I can think of a few worse things than them maybe not...spending so much time together."
"You were wrapped around my ankles," Leanne sucked her teeth, "That didn't do you no harm, now, did it?"
"He ain't me," he scoffed, "And she ain't you. I'm just saying, he's got a lot going on right now and a lot more about to happen too. I'm already having to play interference with some of these coaches trying to keep him focus on the game."
"I still think you should let him know," she replied, "I mean, don't you think it would motivate him to know a team like Mississippi State is looking at offering him?"
"He's not like that," he insisted, "The boy gets in his head, he just needs a clear mind and he'll be fine, everything will fall into place."
...
"I should start signing these," Jasmine suggested as she cut off the last piece of athletic tape, wrapping it around James' ankle.
"From Jasmine," James played along, "Or By Jasmine."
"With Love," she added, "Seriously, if y'all win state, I'm getting a ring, right?"
"If we win state, I'll give you mine. I didn't think I'd be able to walk the way it felt this morning."
"Are you still stretching?" Alyssa asked as she herself was working on another student athlete before their game.
"When it's not hurting," James admitted, "It's just really hard in the morning."
"That's when you need to do it the most," she walked over to check off on Jasmine's work before giving her a nod of approval and returning back to her task at hand.
"Only two more of these?" Jasmine asked James.
"Nope," he shook his head, "Just one more, if we win tonight."
"We are winning tonight," she interjected, "I'm going to miss this and your old man ankles."
"First of all, my ankles are just fine, you try letting 300-pound guys fall on you all of the time."
"I'll pass. I prefer my men slim, kind of like you, maybe a little bit more muscles."
"Anyway," James laughed, "I'll still need treatment after the games are over or am I no good to y'all once I can't play anymore?"
"I think you know the answer to that question."
...
With each throw during warmups, it was becoming increasingly evident that James wouldn't be able to put much spin on any of the balls that were leaving his hands. He threw one more outbreaking pass to Craig, clapping his hands in frustration as the ball hopped to Craig's feet.
"Take what the defense gives us," coach Harrison impressed upon his pupil, "Don't get greedy, don't get frustrated, just stack completions and we'll get going."
"If you need to check out of something, check out of it. You'll get a pass today from me," James Sr. assured his son, "Just don't do no dumb shit."
"When do I ever do that?" James ribbed back, "I'm like Peyton or Tom out there with them audibles, man."
"Yeah, yeah, just be smart."
...
"Little Jr. scrambles to his right, throws it under pressure and it's intercepted!"
...
Despite his best attempt to get rid of the ball, James groaned as he fell to the floor with the defender on top of him. He got back up only to see an avalanche of Biloxi defenders coming towards him before the defensive back that had intercepted his pass was forced out of bounds near the East Side sidelines.
"Fuck!" he screamed as he jogged to the sidelines.
...
"He's hurt! He's hurt!" the coaches on the Biloxi sideline kept screaming to their defense.
"He ain't trying to get hit!"
"Hit him on every play!"
"He's not going to step into any throw! That's pick city!"
...
"Third and two and East Side is going to fake the handoff....Weisbecker is wide open but it's overthrown! That's a play that this offense had made all season but not tonight as James Earl Little Jr. has just been a little bit off."
...
The edge rusher showed great bend, getting right underneath the left tackle's extended arm before exploding towards the quarterback. James saw him creeping towards him from the corner of his eye and released the ball. He wasn't able to get much under it by account of both his bum ankle and the impending rush, resulting in the ball just fluttering in the air before falling into the waiting arm of the defender.
James got up to his feet and chased after the defender, throwing his entire body towards him as they collided on the sidelines.
"Keep them coming, bitch ass nigga!" yelled the defensive back towards James, flinging the ball at him.
"We're good," coach Harrison pulled James away from the scrum that had began to form near the sidelines, "You just can't make that fucking throw, man."
...
"The quick game is working for East Side as Weisbecker picks up a good 20-yards there on the catch and run, they don't have an answer for him tonight."
...
"That's another interception for Biloxi with their third of the night and they're hanging in this game with a chance to tie it here in the third quarter, down seven points."
...
James averted the eyes the defense as they came onto the field, trying to hold on to their shutout while the offense, mainly due to James, had failed to put together any sort of productive effort since the initial touchdown drive.
"We got you!" Devon nodded his head towards the captain of the offense as he led his own unit, "Seven points is all we need, they ain't scoring on us!"
...
"He's not ready," coach Harrison insisted, "We'd be throwing the game away, basically."
"We're not right now?" James Sr. was seriously considering benching his own son in favor of the sophomore backup.
...
"I need more time!" James screamed at Jarvis as he rejected his help up from the floor, "Them niggas are in my face soon as I get the fucking ball."
He shook his head in disappointment and embarrassment at his near fourth pick of the night, throwing into a crowded area as he panicked once three defenders were now in his face, having beat the offensive line off the ball.
"Come on," Alex clapped it up in the huddle, "Let's get it fucking going."
James did just that, throwing a near perfect pass over the middle of the defense to Geo to put East Side in scoring range for the first time all half. It was the sort of pass with touch, accuracy and anticipation that he had made all season but had evaded him throughout the night.
"Green 80! Green 80, set, hut!"
The ball was snapped and James eyes quickly locked on Craig who was working on his defender on the outside. Craig pressed upfield before breaking outside just as James released the ball.
...
"Touchdown Ostrander! The Trojans extend their lead and with the way their defense is playing, that might be enough to take them to Oxford!"
...
"Little scrambles out, something we haven't seen tonight and he finds the senior receiver, Thien Nguyen for the touchdown!"
...
"Howell up the middle and he's....in! Touchdown East Side! It's officially a party in Cleveland, Mississippi as the Trojans are headed to the State Championship!"
"You sure you don't want anything to eat?"
"I'm good," James Sr. shook his head as he remain seated on the edge of the bed, slowly putting his socks on before getting to his feet and walking over to the floor mirror. Even for him, a perpetual morning person since his teenage years, this was a bit too early.
Biloxi's defense had kept him up all night only to have to be up a few hours later for James' treatment on his ankle. The nagging injury was becoming a thorn on James Sr's side as well and his marital affairs as the early morning used to be their only available window for any sort of intimacy in a house full of kids.
"You still got those oatmeal packets in your office if you change your mind," Leanne reminded him as she rubbed his back, "Make sure he eats something too."
"I will," he replied, adjusting the height of the zipper on his quarter-zip.
"How he seem to you?"
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know, I haven't seen Anabelle around lately, really since that night after Homecoming. I know that girl love taking pictures and she sure love showing them to people, pretty as she is, and she ain't shown me none of them from that night, haven't even been around."
"You know he don't talk to me like that," James Sr. shrugged it off, "I can think of a few worse things than them maybe not...spending so much time together."
"You were wrapped around my ankles," Leanne sucked her teeth, "That didn't do you no harm, now, did it?"
"He ain't me," he scoffed, "And she ain't you. I'm just saying, he's got a lot going on right now and a lot more about to happen too. I'm already having to play interference with some of these coaches trying to keep him focus on the game."
"I still think you should let him know," she replied, "I mean, don't you think it would motivate him to know a team like Mississippi State is looking at offering him?"
"He's not like that," he insisted, "The boy gets in his head, he just needs a clear mind and he'll be fine, everything will fall into place."
...
"I should start signing these," Jasmine suggested as she cut off the last piece of athletic tape, wrapping it around James' ankle.
"From Jasmine," James played along, "Or By Jasmine."
"With Love," she added, "Seriously, if y'all win state, I'm getting a ring, right?"
"If we win state, I'll give you mine. I didn't think I'd be able to walk the way it felt this morning."
"Are you still stretching?" Alyssa asked as she herself was working on another student athlete before their game.
"When it's not hurting," James admitted, "It's just really hard in the morning."
"That's when you need to do it the most," she walked over to check off on Jasmine's work before giving her a nod of approval and returning back to her task at hand.
"Only two more of these?" Jasmine asked James.
"Nope," he shook his head, "Just one more, if we win tonight."
"We are winning tonight," she interjected, "I'm going to miss this and your old man ankles."
"First of all, my ankles are just fine, you try letting 300-pound guys fall on you all of the time."
"I'll pass. I prefer my men slim, kind of like you, maybe a little bit more muscles."
"Anyway," James laughed, "I'll still need treatment after the games are over or am I no good to y'all once I can't play anymore?"
"I think you know the answer to that question."
...
With each throw during warmups, it was becoming increasingly evident that James wouldn't be able to put much spin on any of the balls that were leaving his hands. He threw one more outbreaking pass to Craig, clapping his hands in frustration as the ball hopped to Craig's feet.
"Take what the defense gives us," coach Harrison impressed upon his pupil, "Don't get greedy, don't get frustrated, just stack completions and we'll get going."
"If you need to check out of something, check out of it. You'll get a pass today from me," James Sr. assured his son, "Just don't do no dumb shit."
"When do I ever do that?" James ribbed back, "I'm like Peyton or Tom out there with them audibles, man."
"Yeah, yeah, just be smart."
...
"Little Jr. scrambles to his right, throws it under pressure and it's intercepted!"
...
Despite his best attempt to get rid of the ball, James groaned as he fell to the floor with the defender on top of him. He got back up only to see an avalanche of Biloxi defenders coming towards him before the defensive back that had intercepted his pass was forced out of bounds near the East Side sidelines.
"Fuck!" he screamed as he jogged to the sidelines.
...
"He's hurt! He's hurt!" the coaches on the Biloxi sideline kept screaming to their defense.
"He ain't trying to get hit!"
"Hit him on every play!"
"He's not going to step into any throw! That's pick city!"
...
"Third and two and East Side is going to fake the handoff....Weisbecker is wide open but it's overthrown! That's a play that this offense had made all season but not tonight as James Earl Little Jr. has just been a little bit off."
...
The edge rusher showed great bend, getting right underneath the left tackle's extended arm before exploding towards the quarterback. James saw him creeping towards him from the corner of his eye and released the ball. He wasn't able to get much under it by account of both his bum ankle and the impending rush, resulting in the ball just fluttering in the air before falling into the waiting arm of the defender.
James got up to his feet and chased after the defender, throwing his entire body towards him as they collided on the sidelines.
"Keep them coming, bitch ass nigga!" yelled the defensive back towards James, flinging the ball at him.
"We're good," coach Harrison pulled James away from the scrum that had began to form near the sidelines, "You just can't make that fucking throw, man."
...
"The quick game is working for East Side as Weisbecker picks up a good 20-yards there on the catch and run, they don't have an answer for him tonight."
...
"That's another interception for Biloxi with their third of the night and they're hanging in this game with a chance to tie it here in the third quarter, down seven points."
...
James averted the eyes the defense as they came onto the field, trying to hold on to their shutout while the offense, mainly due to James, had failed to put together any sort of productive effort since the initial touchdown drive.
"We got you!" Devon nodded his head towards the captain of the offense as he led his own unit, "Seven points is all we need, they ain't scoring on us!"
...
"He's not ready," coach Harrison insisted, "We'd be throwing the game away, basically."
"We're not right now?" James Sr. was seriously considering benching his own son in favor of the sophomore backup.
...
"I need more time!" James screamed at Jarvis as he rejected his help up from the floor, "Them niggas are in my face soon as I get the fucking ball."
He shook his head in disappointment and embarrassment at his near fourth pick of the night, throwing into a crowded area as he panicked once three defenders were now in his face, having beat the offensive line off the ball.
"Come on," Alex clapped it up in the huddle, "Let's get it fucking going."
James did just that, throwing a near perfect pass over the middle of the defense to Geo to put East Side in scoring range for the first time all half. It was the sort of pass with touch, accuracy and anticipation that he had made all season but had evaded him throughout the night.
"Green 80! Green 80, set, hut!"
The ball was snapped and James eyes quickly locked on Craig who was working on his defender on the outside. Craig pressed upfield before breaking outside just as James released the ball.
...
"Touchdown Ostrander! The Trojans extend their lead and with the way their defense is playing, that might be enough to take them to Oxford!"
...
"Little scrambles out, something we haven't seen tonight and he finds the senior receiver, Thien Nguyen for the touchdown!"
...
"Howell up the middle and he's....in! Touchdown East Side! It's officially a party in Cleveland, Mississippi as the Trojans are headed to the State Championship!"
Last edited by Soapy on 26 Sep 2023, 11:43, edited 1 time in total.
By Valor and Arms.
You sure ya boy name is James Earl Little, Jr. and not DeShaun Watson or Antonio Brown with all this hitting on trainers just trying to do their job?
By Valor and Arms.
Chapter Twenty Four: A Time for Giving
“It for sure could be worse, there's no structural damage or anything.”
James paid close attention, just hoping that the prognosis would be laid down soon enough. Lucky for him, his father didn't want to waste any time either.
“What kind of time table are we looking at?”
The bluntness of the question drew a raised eyebrow from both Doctor Ruiz and Leanne but after a deep breathe, the doctor responded.
“It depends,” the doctor interlocked his fingers, “With an injury like this, it can go from a few weeks to maybe a month or so before he's ready to perform. For an everyday person like me or even you, in about a week or so we’re good to walk again. But for an athlete like James, he’s going to put a lot more strain and extension on that ankle than you and I. I’d say four to five weeks and then we reevaluate, see at what intensity level and motion range he has no pain.”
The three of them continued to conversate while James had mentally taken himself out of the conversation. He buried his head back into his phone, allowing his body to relax as he slid down the office chair. He scrolled through his text messages, replying back to the congratulation texts he had received. Unfortunately for him, the one he was waiting for was never sent.
“See you in a few weeks,” James was snapped out of his mindlessness when Dr. Ruiz extended him his hand and he shook it before exiting the office with his parents.
“You gotta be kidding me,” James Sr. shook his head as James rolled his one-legged scooter out of the building and into the sun-covered parking lot, “How much is it hurting right now?”
“Nothing crazy," James shrugged, "Not like this morning."
Once the adrenaline from the previous night had worn off, James was awaken to a throbbing and unbearable pain his right ankle, causing him to be unable to get out of the bed. His absence at breakfast drew the attention of his mother who found James in his room, clutching at his ankle in pain. Once she got involved, a trip to the hospital was mandatory as calling in Alyssa for an off-hours treatment session wasn't going to cut it this time.
“She thought he just had some soreness," Leanna scoffed, continuing to criticize Alyssa's initial diagnosis which might have been accurate had James not continued to play on it.
“What are you gonna do? You heard the doc, those injuries are hard to diagnose.”
“Stop defending her and start protecting your son,” she insisted, “I know you've known her for a while now but come on, she also missed that little boy's concussion in the summer.”
“She knows what she's doing,” James Sr. replied, “I’ve worked with that woman for years and she’s one of the best trainers I’ve been around, college or high school.”
"The boy can't even walk and he was playing last night," she pointed towards the scooter as James just awkwardly kept rolling towards the car, hoping the conversation would end soon.
"It's football," James Sr. said unabashedly, "Don't nobody feel good all the time playing football."
...
Despite the three interceptions, James found himself inundated with newfound attention in his first two classes of the day. These were kids he had gone to school with for years but with the team making the state championship game, it meant they were on the morning and evening news of that weekend and Monday morning.
"Do you need help with your bag or something?" offered one of the kids that had been chatting James' ear up throughout class.
"I'm good," he smiled towards her, throwing his bag over his shoulder.
He had learned from his mistake earlier in the day to wait a moment after the bell rang. Once he could hear the halls quiet down, he rolled himself out of the classroom and was greeted by a mostly empty hallway which made his trek a bit easier and less chaotic than earlier.
The empty hallways allowed James to keep a leisurely pace on his scooter as he scrolled through his phone, that was before he nearly ran over someone he had done his best to avoid in the recent weeks.
"You are dangerous with that thing," Anabelle laughed as she shifted her weight around to keep the books that were in her hands from falling.
James provided a helping hand, stabilizing them as she readjusted herself, "Sorry about that."
"Just kidding," she assured him, moving her hair out of her face to reveal a smile from ear to ear, "Everything okay with your leg?"
It had just dawned on James that they hadn't spoken to each other since he had suffered the ankle injury.
"Not really but it's fine," he shrugged, trying to convince himself on the matter with a game coming up in just a few days.
"I wanted to reach out but..." her eyes averted James', "How's everyone?"
"They're good," James nodded, "Obviously, my dad is a bit of a nuthouse right now with State and everything but when isn't he, really?"
"You said it," she let out a chuckle.
"How about you?"
"I've had better times," she admitted, "Just...feels weird, you know?"
Unsure of what to say, James simply shook his head in agreement.
"Thanksgiving! You're doing anything special or anything?"
"Not really," James replied, "With the game and everything, I'm sure my mom will cook something up but we're not hosting any family or going out of town or anything."
"We have a few family members coming into town and my grandma is already here to cook everything so it's going to be a pretty good spread, want me to save you a plate?"
"Sure," James instinctually replied, not one to turn down a plate of food.
"Perfect," she leaned in and gave him a side hug, "Just come on over whenever you want, I'll be waiting for you."
“It for sure could be worse, there's no structural damage or anything.”
James paid close attention, just hoping that the prognosis would be laid down soon enough. Lucky for him, his father didn't want to waste any time either.
“What kind of time table are we looking at?”
The bluntness of the question drew a raised eyebrow from both Doctor Ruiz and Leanne but after a deep breathe, the doctor responded.
“It depends,” the doctor interlocked his fingers, “With an injury like this, it can go from a few weeks to maybe a month or so before he's ready to perform. For an everyday person like me or even you, in about a week or so we’re good to walk again. But for an athlete like James, he’s going to put a lot more strain and extension on that ankle than you and I. I’d say four to five weeks and then we reevaluate, see at what intensity level and motion range he has no pain.”
The three of them continued to conversate while James had mentally taken himself out of the conversation. He buried his head back into his phone, allowing his body to relax as he slid down the office chair. He scrolled through his text messages, replying back to the congratulation texts he had received. Unfortunately for him, the one he was waiting for was never sent.
“See you in a few weeks,” James was snapped out of his mindlessness when Dr. Ruiz extended him his hand and he shook it before exiting the office with his parents.
“You gotta be kidding me,” James Sr. shook his head as James rolled his one-legged scooter out of the building and into the sun-covered parking lot, “How much is it hurting right now?”
“Nothing crazy," James shrugged, "Not like this morning."
Once the adrenaline from the previous night had worn off, James was awaken to a throbbing and unbearable pain his right ankle, causing him to be unable to get out of the bed. His absence at breakfast drew the attention of his mother who found James in his room, clutching at his ankle in pain. Once she got involved, a trip to the hospital was mandatory as calling in Alyssa for an off-hours treatment session wasn't going to cut it this time.
“She thought he just had some soreness," Leanna scoffed, continuing to criticize Alyssa's initial diagnosis which might have been accurate had James not continued to play on it.
“What are you gonna do? You heard the doc, those injuries are hard to diagnose.”
“Stop defending her and start protecting your son,” she insisted, “I know you've known her for a while now but come on, she also missed that little boy's concussion in the summer.”
“She knows what she's doing,” James Sr. replied, “I’ve worked with that woman for years and she’s one of the best trainers I’ve been around, college or high school.”
"The boy can't even walk and he was playing last night," she pointed towards the scooter as James just awkwardly kept rolling towards the car, hoping the conversation would end soon.
"It's football," James Sr. said unabashedly, "Don't nobody feel good all the time playing football."
...
Despite the three interceptions, James found himself inundated with newfound attention in his first two classes of the day. These were kids he had gone to school with for years but with the team making the state championship game, it meant they were on the morning and evening news of that weekend and Monday morning.
"Do you need help with your bag or something?" offered one of the kids that had been chatting James' ear up throughout class.
"I'm good," he smiled towards her, throwing his bag over his shoulder.
He had learned from his mistake earlier in the day to wait a moment after the bell rang. Once he could hear the halls quiet down, he rolled himself out of the classroom and was greeted by a mostly empty hallway which made his trek a bit easier and less chaotic than earlier.
The empty hallways allowed James to keep a leisurely pace on his scooter as he scrolled through his phone, that was before he nearly ran over someone he had done his best to avoid in the recent weeks.
"You are dangerous with that thing," Anabelle laughed as she shifted her weight around to keep the books that were in her hands from falling.
James provided a helping hand, stabilizing them as she readjusted herself, "Sorry about that."
"Just kidding," she assured him, moving her hair out of her face to reveal a smile from ear to ear, "Everything okay with your leg?"
It had just dawned on James that they hadn't spoken to each other since he had suffered the ankle injury.
"Not really but it's fine," he shrugged, trying to convince himself on the matter with a game coming up in just a few days.
"I wanted to reach out but..." her eyes averted James', "How's everyone?"
"They're good," James nodded, "Obviously, my dad is a bit of a nuthouse right now with State and everything but when isn't he, really?"
"You said it," she let out a chuckle.
"How about you?"
"I've had better times," she admitted, "Just...feels weird, you know?"
Unsure of what to say, James simply shook his head in agreement.
"Thanksgiving! You're doing anything special or anything?"
"Not really," James replied, "With the game and everything, I'm sure my mom will cook something up but we're not hosting any family or going out of town or anything."
"We have a few family members coming into town and my grandma is already here to cook everything so it's going to be a pretty good spread, want me to save you a plate?"
"Sure," James instinctually replied, not one to turn down a plate of food.
"Perfect," she leaned in and gave him a side hug, "Just come on over whenever you want, I'll be waiting for you."
Last edited by Soapy on 27 Sep 2023, 07:36, edited 1 time in total.
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Captain Canada
- Posts: 2208
- Joined: 01 Dec 2018, 00:15
By Valor and Arms.
She gonna reveal the train that got ran on her at Thanksgiving? Sickening stuff.