Explosions of Grandeur.
Explosions of Grandeur.
There was a discernible sound when the ball would make contact with the receiver's gloves when it came out of Jalen's hand. You could almost close your eyes and still hear the ball whistle threw the air before that unmistakable thud. Coach Collins had been around the block more than a few times and hadn't seen -- or heard -- arm talent quite like that from a sixteen year old.
The pop got louder and louder as Jalen continued to go through his series of warm up. He was methodical with his preparation yet still smooth as ever, almost making the motion of throwing a football an art installation. His art installation, a true masterpiece in quarterback play.
The California summer sun had started to settle down onto the practice field as players continued to pour out from the double-sided doors that led them from the locker room and out into the grueling temperatures that would be their homes for the next few hours. They wiped the crust out of their eyes, took a few more sips of water and exchanged in light banter about last night's activities as they strapped their helmets and shoulder pads on.
Coach Collins blew his whistle, signaling the beginning of practice. A few straggles hustled off from the bleachers and joined the rest of their teammates that had surrounded coach Collins and the rest of the coaching staff in the middle of the field. Coach Collins examined the crowd of players, some of them putting on their gladiator gear for the first time.
"Where's Jimmy?"
...
"Fuck," James whispered as he rolled out of bed and took a glance on his phone.
"You're leaving?"
James didn't answer as he got up and scurried around for his shirt, throwing it on as he ran his hand through his hair.
"Where are my pants?"
"What?"
"My pants," James said firmly as Beck sat up and looked around the room.
"I think you left them in the bathroom somewhere," she responded before laying back down and grabbing her phone, "Oh shit, don't you have practice?"
...
"Jimmy boy!"
Before James could turn around, he found himself being bear-hugged by a drunken Jerome. James smiled and tapped him on the shoulder, signaling that the time for the hug was over.
"I'm going to miss you man," Jerome slurred as he finished his cup and placed it on the kitchen counter, "You're like one of my favorite people in the world man."
"I can certainly toast to that big boy," James chuckled as he raised his cup and offered Jerome another cup of rum and coke before Brandon quickly grabbed it.
"That's enough for him," Brandon chastised James, "We're driving back tomorrow and I'd prefer him not throwing up all over my car."
"Yes, father. We'll try to behave," James joked, which got a big laugh from the group as Jerome just sort of floated into another conversation with that big grin still on his face.
"How are we going to survive without you next year?" Noah asked, "We might burn down the fucking school, shit, the fucking town."
"You guys managed to maintain the last few months without me," Brandon tilted his head and forced a fake smile, "I think you'll be just fine."
"How was it up there?" Jalen asked, taking a sip of his drink that he had been baby sitting for the past hour.
"It's pretty awesome man," Brandon answered, "I visited there almost every free weekend for the last two years so I'm pretty comfortable with it but it's awesome man."
“You need to give it up,” Joshua interjected, “He’s not going to fucking Stanford. La La Land is where it's at and where it's going to be at."
"I don't know about that," Jalen lightly chuckled.
Jalen had yet to have a single career start in high school and yet fielded offers from all of the major California schools -- Stanford, UCLA and USC -- with a few Florida's, Michigan's and Mississippi State's sprinkled in there for good measure. He spelled for Brandon a few times last season during Brandon's third year as a starter, finishing out his high school career undefeated and arguably one of the best quarterbacks in California history. Yet everyone knew that Jalen was better, Brandon included.
"Besides," Trey added, "I doubt he's trying to sit behind your ass any longer. Soon as you're eligible bro, you have to come visit UCLA. The shit is a fucking movie bro."
"Believe me," James put his hand on Jalen's shoulder, "Being Brandon's backup gets tiring after a while."
James managed to slide out of the conversation and joined Beck who seemed to be aimlessly people watching as her eyes simply lingered from one corner of the house to the next.
"This feels real high school reunion-ish and it's only been a few months since graduation," she said as they took up a spot on the wall.
"Almost everybody here went away for the summer," James shrugged, "Sort of is a mini-reunion before y'all leave us again."
"Don't start," she let out a dry chuckle, "How about you? Excited for senior year?"
"Not really," James couldn't even muster up fake enthusiasm, "Feels like just any other year except this year is my last."
"That's what's supposed to make it different," she poked him in the head with her index finger.
He grabbed her hand away from his face and pulled her closer, giving her a light peck on the mouth before going back in for a deeper, longer kiss.
"That's a lot of rum," she laughed.
"Let's go back to your place," he said, pressing his chin against her forehead.
"I don't know about that," she pulled away.
"Really?"
"My parents are pretty cool about stuff," she started, "But it's just that....you've been sleeping over....like a lot....which is going to lead to questions that I'm not really trying to answer right now or even be asked. We can go grab something to eat though after this."
"Yeah," James cleared his throat, "That's totally fine."
The pop got louder and louder as Jalen continued to go through his series of warm up. He was methodical with his preparation yet still smooth as ever, almost making the motion of throwing a football an art installation. His art installation, a true masterpiece in quarterback play.
The California summer sun had started to settle down onto the practice field as players continued to pour out from the double-sided doors that led them from the locker room and out into the grueling temperatures that would be their homes for the next few hours. They wiped the crust out of their eyes, took a few more sips of water and exchanged in light banter about last night's activities as they strapped their helmets and shoulder pads on.
Coach Collins blew his whistle, signaling the beginning of practice. A few straggles hustled off from the bleachers and joined the rest of their teammates that had surrounded coach Collins and the rest of the coaching staff in the middle of the field. Coach Collins examined the crowd of players, some of them putting on their gladiator gear for the first time.
"Where's Jimmy?"
...
"Fuck," James whispered as he rolled out of bed and took a glance on his phone.
"You're leaving?"
James didn't answer as he got up and scurried around for his shirt, throwing it on as he ran his hand through his hair.
"Where are my pants?"
"What?"
"My pants," James said firmly as Beck sat up and looked around the room.
"I think you left them in the bathroom somewhere," she responded before laying back down and grabbing her phone, "Oh shit, don't you have practice?"
...
"Jimmy boy!"
Before James could turn around, he found himself being bear-hugged by a drunken Jerome. James smiled and tapped him on the shoulder, signaling that the time for the hug was over.
"I'm going to miss you man," Jerome slurred as he finished his cup and placed it on the kitchen counter, "You're like one of my favorite people in the world man."
"I can certainly toast to that big boy," James chuckled as he raised his cup and offered Jerome another cup of rum and coke before Brandon quickly grabbed it.
"That's enough for him," Brandon chastised James, "We're driving back tomorrow and I'd prefer him not throwing up all over my car."
"Yes, father. We'll try to behave," James joked, which got a big laugh from the group as Jerome just sort of floated into another conversation with that big grin still on his face.
"How are we going to survive without you next year?" Noah asked, "We might burn down the fucking school, shit, the fucking town."
"You guys managed to maintain the last few months without me," Brandon tilted his head and forced a fake smile, "I think you'll be just fine."
"How was it up there?" Jalen asked, taking a sip of his drink that he had been baby sitting for the past hour.
"It's pretty awesome man," Brandon answered, "I visited there almost every free weekend for the last two years so I'm pretty comfortable with it but it's awesome man."
“You need to give it up,” Joshua interjected, “He’s not going to fucking Stanford. La La Land is where it's at and where it's going to be at."
"I don't know about that," Jalen lightly chuckled.
Jalen had yet to have a single career start in high school and yet fielded offers from all of the major California schools -- Stanford, UCLA and USC -- with a few Florida's, Michigan's and Mississippi State's sprinkled in there for good measure. He spelled for Brandon a few times last season during Brandon's third year as a starter, finishing out his high school career undefeated and arguably one of the best quarterbacks in California history. Yet everyone knew that Jalen was better, Brandon included.
"Besides," Trey added, "I doubt he's trying to sit behind your ass any longer. Soon as you're eligible bro, you have to come visit UCLA. The shit is a fucking movie bro."
"Believe me," James put his hand on Jalen's shoulder, "Being Brandon's backup gets tiring after a while."
James managed to slide out of the conversation and joined Beck who seemed to be aimlessly people watching as her eyes simply lingered from one corner of the house to the next.
"This feels real high school reunion-ish and it's only been a few months since graduation," she said as they took up a spot on the wall.
"Almost everybody here went away for the summer," James shrugged, "Sort of is a mini-reunion before y'all leave us again."
"Don't start," she let out a dry chuckle, "How about you? Excited for senior year?"
"Not really," James couldn't even muster up fake enthusiasm, "Feels like just any other year except this year is my last."
"That's what's supposed to make it different," she poked him in the head with her index finger.
He grabbed her hand away from his face and pulled her closer, giving her a light peck on the mouth before going back in for a deeper, longer kiss.
"That's a lot of rum," she laughed.
"Let's go back to your place," he said, pressing his chin against her forehead.
"I don't know about that," she pulled away.
"Really?"
"My parents are pretty cool about stuff," she started, "But it's just that....you've been sleeping over....like a lot....which is going to lead to questions that I'm not really trying to answer right now or even be asked. We can go grab something to eat though after this."
"Yeah," James cleared his throat, "That's totally fine."
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- Posts: 2228
- Joined: 01 Dec 2018, 00:15
Explosions of Grandeur.
Pretty good start, intrigued for more.
Explosions of Grandeur.
Using the neck of his shirt, James brought it to his brow and wiped the sweat off of his face. He took a few more deep breaths before exploding out of his stance and sprinting down the field.
"Give me two more," coach Butler instructed as James once again reached the sideline, huffing and puffing as he placed his hands over his head.
"Fuck," he spat out, once confident that his last performance would have earned him a respite.
"Hurry up," coach Butler twirled his whistle as he continued to kick the grass aimlessly, "I don't need CIF coming around here and getting my ass fired because of your bullshit. It's getting dark and I'm hungry."
James obliged, not stopping between sets and finishing off the last two sideline-to-sideline sprints. He took his shirt off as they both walked off the field and into the locker room, the last two people in the building. Everyone else had went home after practice except for James and coach Butler, which had slowly become the norm over the last two seasons.
"I'll drop you off," coach Butler peaked his head out of his office that was located on the northeast section of the state-of-the-art locker room.
"I brought my bike," James waved him off as he changed out of his sweaty shirt into another slightly less dirty but still plenty stained shirt.
"Just throw it in the back," coach Butler yelled from inside of his office as he did not stick around for James' answer.
James didn't put up much of a fight as he once again buried his head into his phone, throwing his bag over his shoulder and closing his locker.
.....
'can i come over?'
'....'
'what you bringing with you this time?
'
'lol what i always bring'
'then it's a yes lmao don't knock though just lmk when you here'
'bet im otw'
.....
"How are things at home?"
"They're okay," James shrugged, not given much thought to the question or his answer.
"You can come over for dinner if you want to," coach Butler replied, "Connie's been asking about you lately. This whole time she thought you were a senior, you know that?"
"It feels like I've been here forever," James let out a dry laugh, "Tell her I said hi and thanks for the invite but I'm straight."
"Are you though?" coach Butler turned around and faced James as they came up to a red light.
"I just overslept coach," James reiterated, "I set up like five alarms now and I've been going to sleep early now, you know, getting all of my eight hours and stuff."
"It's not just the other day Jimmy," coach Butler sighed, "You don't feel like, I don't know, you've let your opportunities go to waste? At this pace, you're going to wake up one day and feel like you just sleepwalked through your entire existence."
"I'm trying coach," James said sheepishly.
"I went to bat for you with coach Collins, got you over here. Gave you every opportunity to start as a true freshman which doesn't happen at a fucking school like this and you let me down. Fine, freshman year, new environment, I get it. But then you eat shit for the next two seasons once Brandon got the job and force us to bring in a guy like Jalen and now what? What's your plan out of here? You've been bullshitting on your PSATs and haven't even been going to tutoring for the SATs or the ACTs. You have no fucking tape, hell, you haven't played a meaningful snap since the eight grade."
"Yes, sir."
"Yes sir to what exactly?"
"I don't know," James said with a defensive tone, "I'm sorry I shit the bed, I'm sorry I let you down, I don't know."
"We have this talk like every other month kid," coach Butler pulled up to James' house, "At some point, it has to click. You're not good enough to just clock in everyday, you have to work at it."
"Yes, coach."
"Alright," coach Butler unlocked the door, "Don't forget your bike and get some rest, get off your legs for the day and go straight to sleep after eating. You hear me?"
"I got you coach," James flashed a smile as he hopped out of the car and grabbed his bike, holding two fingers up towards coach Butler as he drove off.
James slowly walked to the front door, keeping his eyes on coach Butler's truck until it went out of view. He got on his bike and rode it down the street.
....
"Stop making so much noise," she said with a giggle as James threw his gym bag towards a corner.
"Shut up and come over here," James slapped her ass and bent her over the edge of her bed.
"You smell like practice," she complained as James took his shirt off, "Get in the shower first, at least."
"I've done fucked you in the bullpen too many time after practice for you to be talking this damn much," James scoffed as he took his pants off and took hers off as well.
"I'm not like that no more," she said as she tried to turn around to face James but with a swift motion, he bent her back over and licked his palm.
"Fuck," she let out a soft moan which kept getting louder.
"Nah, nah, you want me to shower first, right?"
"No," Tiffany used her hand to reach around and grab his back, instructing him to go deeper, "Just keep fucking me like this."
"That's what I fucking thought," he said with a grin on his face as he caught a reflection of himself in her mirror.
"Give me two more," coach Butler instructed as James once again reached the sideline, huffing and puffing as he placed his hands over his head.
"Fuck," he spat out, once confident that his last performance would have earned him a respite.
"Hurry up," coach Butler twirled his whistle as he continued to kick the grass aimlessly, "I don't need CIF coming around here and getting my ass fired because of your bullshit. It's getting dark and I'm hungry."
James obliged, not stopping between sets and finishing off the last two sideline-to-sideline sprints. He took his shirt off as they both walked off the field and into the locker room, the last two people in the building. Everyone else had went home after practice except for James and coach Butler, which had slowly become the norm over the last two seasons.
"I'll drop you off," coach Butler peaked his head out of his office that was located on the northeast section of the state-of-the-art locker room.
"I brought my bike," James waved him off as he changed out of his sweaty shirt into another slightly less dirty but still plenty stained shirt.
"Just throw it in the back," coach Butler yelled from inside of his office as he did not stick around for James' answer.
James didn't put up much of a fight as he once again buried his head into his phone, throwing his bag over his shoulder and closing his locker.
.....
'can i come over?'
'....'
'what you bringing with you this time?
![Curtain :curtain:](./images/smilies/curtain.gif)
'lol what i always bring'
'then it's a yes lmao don't knock though just lmk when you here'
'bet im otw'
.....
"How are things at home?"
"They're okay," James shrugged, not given much thought to the question or his answer.
"You can come over for dinner if you want to," coach Butler replied, "Connie's been asking about you lately. This whole time she thought you were a senior, you know that?"
"It feels like I've been here forever," James let out a dry laugh, "Tell her I said hi and thanks for the invite but I'm straight."
"Are you though?" coach Butler turned around and faced James as they came up to a red light.
"I just overslept coach," James reiterated, "I set up like five alarms now and I've been going to sleep early now, you know, getting all of my eight hours and stuff."
"It's not just the other day Jimmy," coach Butler sighed, "You don't feel like, I don't know, you've let your opportunities go to waste? At this pace, you're going to wake up one day and feel like you just sleepwalked through your entire existence."
"I'm trying coach," James said sheepishly.
"I went to bat for you with coach Collins, got you over here. Gave you every opportunity to start as a true freshman which doesn't happen at a fucking school like this and you let me down. Fine, freshman year, new environment, I get it. But then you eat shit for the next two seasons once Brandon got the job and force us to bring in a guy like Jalen and now what? What's your plan out of here? You've been bullshitting on your PSATs and haven't even been going to tutoring for the SATs or the ACTs. You have no fucking tape, hell, you haven't played a meaningful snap since the eight grade."
"Yes, sir."
"Yes sir to what exactly?"
"I don't know," James said with a defensive tone, "I'm sorry I shit the bed, I'm sorry I let you down, I don't know."
"We have this talk like every other month kid," coach Butler pulled up to James' house, "At some point, it has to click. You're not good enough to just clock in everyday, you have to work at it."
"Yes, coach."
"Alright," coach Butler unlocked the door, "Don't forget your bike and get some rest, get off your legs for the day and go straight to sleep after eating. You hear me?"
"I got you coach," James flashed a smile as he hopped out of the car and grabbed his bike, holding two fingers up towards coach Butler as he drove off.
James slowly walked to the front door, keeping his eyes on coach Butler's truck until it went out of view. He got on his bike and rode it down the street.
....
"Stop making so much noise," she said with a giggle as James threw his gym bag towards a corner.
"Shut up and come over here," James slapped her ass and bent her over the edge of her bed.
"You smell like practice," she complained as James took his shirt off, "Get in the shower first, at least."
"I've done fucked you in the bullpen too many time after practice for you to be talking this damn much," James scoffed as he took his pants off and took hers off as well.
"I'm not like that no more," she said as she tried to turn around to face James but with a swift motion, he bent her back over and licked his palm.
"Fuck," she let out a soft moan which kept getting louder.
"Nah, nah, you want me to shower first, right?"
"No," Tiffany used her hand to reach around and grab his back, instructing him to go deeper, "Just keep fucking me like this."
"That's what I fucking thought," he said with a grin on his face as he caught a reflection of himself in her mirror.
Explosions of Grandeur.
It had become almost tradition.
"I know your ass ain't rolling another one," Iman laughed as he took another drag.
"We have enough time," James smiled as he put the finishing touches on yet another blunt, taking out his lighter and lighting it up.
"You're trying to put me on my fucking ass," Beck shook her head as Iman passed her what had become a roach at this point.
James took care of that, inserting the freshly rolled blunt into rotation. It had been a few weeks since camp had started and between the team meetings, walk-thru and conditioning, the team was always rewarded with an hour and a half lunch break before positional meetings and live practice to end the day. Many used those 90 minutes, some went home and showered. James and Iman would dip off around the corner in Iman's 2009 Nissan Altima and roll one up. Beck would join them every now and then on her work break as well.
"You're going to be zoned out at the cash register today," James joked as Beck was now leaning on him with her hand on his chest.
"Shut up," she said as she kissed him on the lips.
"Don't y'all get to starting," Iman protested, "We're deadass going to be late."
"You know what you need?" James took a few more pulls, "Some premo vagina, man. And an ice cold forty."
James and Iman busted out laughing, much to Beck's surprise. Even in her altered state, she didn't get what was so funny.
"I don't get it," she said between coughs.
"Iman's uncle man," James laughed, "We were like peewee's man and we just got done winning this championship and he was like one of the coaches but not really a coach."
"He'd just show up," Iman explained, "Put down a few cones and just watch us practice. I don't think he coached for a second but he'd be in the bleachers talking shit, running to the field, talking shit."
"So we win the championship and we're walking out of the park," James interjected, "And he's yelling to the other coaches 'Y'all need some premo vagina and an ice cold forty, that's what y'all need' in front of like a bunch of kids and parents. He kept yelling it too. They banned him from the league after that."
"Where is he at now?" Beck asked Iman.
"On a porch somewhere probably," Iman shrugged.
"With an ice cold forty!" James shouted, prompting him and Iman to go into another laughing fit but with Beck joining them this time.
"We gotta go man," Iman finally was able to get out, "You want us to drop you off, B?"
"I'm good," she said as she got up from the bench, "I need to walk the high off and this smell, holy shit."
"See you later babe," James kissed her as they parted ways. walking with Iman towards his car.
"You got that cologne?" Iman asked once they got in the car.
"I got you bro," James pulled it out of his bag and they both sprayed up the inside of the car and their bodies as they started the two-drive block back to school.
"You think they know?" Iman asked.
"Know what?"
"That we dip off and smoke almost every goddamn day."
"Probably," James shrugged, "Coach Butler knows for a fact that I smoke so if he sees you with me all the time, he can probably put two and two together."
"I need to stop that shit once I get down there," Iman shook his head, "Coach Sumlin ain't playing about that shit like coach B"
"You're not lying," James agreed.
Within minutes, they were back on campus grounds and walking through the hallway with a deli sandwich in hand. They had gotten wise that they typically need some sort of alibi or their off-campus perusing and food typically answered all questions.
"I've been looking for y'all two," coach Marcus said as he cut Iman and James off as they were about to enter the locker room.
"We were getting food," James said as he took a bite of his sandwich.
"Food, huh?" coach Marcus smiled.
Being the youngest coach on the staff and himself just a few years removed from high school, the typical bullshit lines didn't work with coach Marcus.
"I need y'all asses in Room 102B, meeting starts in four minutes."
"You heard your coach," James teased Iman, "Where the QBs at?"
"I don't know where they're at," coach Marcus said, "But I know where your ass is and that's room 102B."
"Quit playing," James laughed.
"I'm serious," coach Marcus smiled, "If your ass was down here you would know that too. You rolling with us DBs now, man. Come on, let's go."
"I know your ass ain't rolling another one," Iman laughed as he took another drag.
"We have enough time," James smiled as he put the finishing touches on yet another blunt, taking out his lighter and lighting it up.
"You're trying to put me on my fucking ass," Beck shook her head as Iman passed her what had become a roach at this point.
James took care of that, inserting the freshly rolled blunt into rotation. It had been a few weeks since camp had started and between the team meetings, walk-thru and conditioning, the team was always rewarded with an hour and a half lunch break before positional meetings and live practice to end the day. Many used those 90 minutes, some went home and showered. James and Iman would dip off around the corner in Iman's 2009 Nissan Altima and roll one up. Beck would join them every now and then on her work break as well.
"You're going to be zoned out at the cash register today," James joked as Beck was now leaning on him with her hand on his chest.
"Shut up," she said as she kissed him on the lips.
"Don't y'all get to starting," Iman protested, "We're deadass going to be late."
"You know what you need?" James took a few more pulls, "Some premo vagina, man. And an ice cold forty."
James and Iman busted out laughing, much to Beck's surprise. Even in her altered state, she didn't get what was so funny.
"I don't get it," she said between coughs.
"Iman's uncle man," James laughed, "We were like peewee's man and we just got done winning this championship and he was like one of the coaches but not really a coach."
"He'd just show up," Iman explained, "Put down a few cones and just watch us practice. I don't think he coached for a second but he'd be in the bleachers talking shit, running to the field, talking shit."
"So we win the championship and we're walking out of the park," James interjected, "And he's yelling to the other coaches 'Y'all need some premo vagina and an ice cold forty, that's what y'all need' in front of like a bunch of kids and parents. He kept yelling it too. They banned him from the league after that."
"Where is he at now?" Beck asked Iman.
"On a porch somewhere probably," Iman shrugged.
"With an ice cold forty!" James shouted, prompting him and Iman to go into another laughing fit but with Beck joining them this time.
"We gotta go man," Iman finally was able to get out, "You want us to drop you off, B?"
"I'm good," she said as she got up from the bench, "I need to walk the high off and this smell, holy shit."
"See you later babe," James kissed her as they parted ways. walking with Iman towards his car.
"You got that cologne?" Iman asked once they got in the car.
"I got you bro," James pulled it out of his bag and they both sprayed up the inside of the car and their bodies as they started the two-drive block back to school.
"You think they know?" Iman asked.
"Know what?"
"That we dip off and smoke almost every goddamn day."
"Probably," James shrugged, "Coach Butler knows for a fact that I smoke so if he sees you with me all the time, he can probably put two and two together."
"I need to stop that shit once I get down there," Iman shook his head, "Coach Sumlin ain't playing about that shit like coach B"
"You're not lying," James agreed.
Within minutes, they were back on campus grounds and walking through the hallway with a deli sandwich in hand. They had gotten wise that they typically need some sort of alibi or their off-campus perusing and food typically answered all questions.
"I've been looking for y'all two," coach Marcus said as he cut Iman and James off as they were about to enter the locker room.
"We were getting food," James said as he took a bite of his sandwich.
"Food, huh?" coach Marcus smiled.
Being the youngest coach on the staff and himself just a few years removed from high school, the typical bullshit lines didn't work with coach Marcus.
"I need y'all asses in Room 102B, meeting starts in four minutes."
"You heard your coach," James teased Iman, "Where the QBs at?"
"I don't know where they're at," coach Marcus said, "But I know where your ass is and that's room 102B."
"Quit playing," James laughed.
"I'm serious," coach Marcus smiled, "If your ass was down here you would know that too. You rolling with us DBs now, man. Come on, let's go."
Explosions of Grandeur.
nobody likes a position change
-
- Posts: 2228
- Joined: 01 Dec 2018, 00:15
Explosions of Grandeur.
That's what he gets for playing around. Ready for more.
Explosions of Grandeur.
"Switch! Switch! Switch!"
In a frenzy, James sprinted across the field before hearing the sound of coach Marcus yelling from the sideline.
"Switch, not flip! Go back!"
James hustled back across, catching a glimpse of a laughing coach Collins who blew his whistle to signal the play was live. The ball was snapped to Jalen who took a quick drop step before firing a bullet across his right to Noah for a quick eight yard gain before he was tagged. Just like that, the play was over and all James did was catch his breath.
"Look at the hand signals bro," Iman told James as he jogged to the sidelines along with the rest of the second team.
Coach Marcus waved James over and tapped him on the helmet, "You'll get it, Jimmy. Just stay steady. Watch Tyler on this play,"
James had switched from being stuck behind and watching one standout underclassman in Jalen to now Tyler, the six-foot-one, 170-pound to-be-junior that was one of the three returning starters in the defensive backfield along with Gordon and Iman. It was widely expected that all three of them would be earning All-CIF honors this upcoming season with Tyler and Iman already claiming their Honorable Mentions as sophomores and juniors respectively.
"Switch! Switch!" commanded Gordon, the five-foot-seven fiery leader of the secondary, from his safety position.
Like a well oiled machine, the secondary shifted their positioning from a two high safety look with the corners pressed to a single-high safety alignment with Tyler coming down near the line of scrimmage on the strong side and the corners backing off press coverage.
"They're in green now," coach Marcus muttered to James as they looked on, "Watch Tyler on this play, he's got the flats."
"Green 80! Green 80! Green 80 Set!"
The ball was snapped and Jalen took a quick drop step once again but this time, Tyler jumped on the slant, forcing him to scramble out of the pocket, buying time before he found his tight end, junior Austin White, across the middle for a completion.
"That's all you can do," coach Marcus shrugged, "We're not going to face anyone this season remotely as good as Jalen."
.....
"Let me get a motherfucking patty melt man," Noah said, taking a large gulp from his 'water' cup.
"Watch your mouth," Eric snapped back as he entered the order, "Anything else?"
"You want something Jimmy? I got you," Noah yelled out, unaware that James had already walked up and was now behind him.
"I'll have what you having," James thanked him, "How you been bro?"
"I've been better," Eric scoffed as he took the ten dollar bill from Noah, "How about you? Ain't seen you around lately."
"Shooting the breeze and what not," James laughed, "And things of that nature. You know, strictly for cultural purposes."
"I already know it," Eric joined him in laughter.
"Matter of fact," Noah interrupted, "Let my man get another water cup too. We're perched."
"It's called parched," Eric corrected him as he handed James a large cup, free of charge.
"If you're so smart and shit," Noah took another sip, "Why you taking my order then?"
"Let's take it easy," James laughed as he pulled Noah away from the counter and got between him and Eric, "Sorry about that, E."
"Don't sweat it," Eric shrugged it off, "I deal with people like him all day, every day."
"My man," James dapped him up, "Next time you got Erica let me know, I haven't seen her in a while."
"Be easy."
As soon as they walked away from the counter, James placed his hand firmly on Noah's neck. "First and foremost, don't ever disrespect someone I'm cool with like that in front of my face and secondly, that motherfucker is nothing to play with and his family full of some real ass dudes."
"Damn," Noah wrestled away, "He was always a dick to me when he was on the team so I figure I get his ass back. Not my fault he ain't get signed."
"You can be so fucking dumb sometimes," James chuckled, no longer even upset as the young pup he had taken under his wing since last season.
They waited around for their order and once they got their food, they joined Beck, Iman and Tracey at their booth.
"Took y'all long enough," Tracey commented as she couldn't wait to put her arms around Noah.
Their puppy love had made James physically ill over the year as he was sure they wouldn't last more than a few months once Noah got to Poly Tech. The caliber of girls he had been around greatly improved yet he stayed faithful to Tracey.
"Did Eric tell you?" Iman leaned forward, interrupting James' eagerness to eat his second meal of the day.
"I was too busy trying to keep him from eating Noah's head's off. Tell me what?"
"Shut up," Noah defended himself, "I'll whoop his fucking ass."
"Anyway," Iman waved him off, "You know Eric's cousin Lonnie right?"
"Played at San Diego State?"
"Yup," Iman nodded, "Well, he got like some nice ass real estate job because of some booster or some shit."
"Okay?" James said, unsure where Iman was headed.
"Eric was telling me how his cousin told him that Jalen's peoples was like looking for a house around the hills, bro."
"This bullshit again," Noah shook his head.
"I'm actually with Noah on this one," James laughed, "We've been doing this Calabasas shit for like two years now. If he didn't leave as a freshman sitting behind Brandon, why the fuck would he do it now?"
"They approached us at the Adidas camp," Noah explained, "It was me, Jalen and Leon, Eddie might have been there too. One of their coaches was running the clinic, he coaches their DBs or something so ain't really no reason for him to be talking to any of us and he was on us the whole camp bro. At the end, he was deadass like 'yo if you want to come, we can make it happen, set y'all up' but I'm telling you bro, Jalen ain't even say a word to that man. If anything, shit, I probably was the most interested out of all of them but my ass wasn't going to leave Brandon throwing me that rock and I'm not leaving Jalen now."
"He'll go to IMG before he goes to Calabasas," James agreed, "And his family isn't going to let him go to Florida by himself. They just moved here, they're not moving again."
"You ladies seem miserable," said a familiar voice from behind James. Before he could turn around, Tiffany had taken a seat right next to Beck.
"Hey Tiff," Beck smiled as she gave her half a hug, "We're used to it by now. Just football, football, football."
"I would kill myself," Tiffany formed a gun with her right hand and placed it on her temple, "Jakobi ain't so bad, at least around me he isn't."
"You should bring him around some more," Beck suggested, "We could do a triple-decker-date with Iman as our reliable, what, seventh wheel?"
"We should do that," Tiffany smiled as she made brief eye contact with James.
James let out a smirk as he took a sip of his drink and finished off his patty melt.
In a frenzy, James sprinted across the field before hearing the sound of coach Marcus yelling from the sideline.
"Switch, not flip! Go back!"
James hustled back across, catching a glimpse of a laughing coach Collins who blew his whistle to signal the play was live. The ball was snapped to Jalen who took a quick drop step before firing a bullet across his right to Noah for a quick eight yard gain before he was tagged. Just like that, the play was over and all James did was catch his breath.
"Look at the hand signals bro," Iman told James as he jogged to the sidelines along with the rest of the second team.
Coach Marcus waved James over and tapped him on the helmet, "You'll get it, Jimmy. Just stay steady. Watch Tyler on this play,"
James had switched from being stuck behind and watching one standout underclassman in Jalen to now Tyler, the six-foot-one, 170-pound to-be-junior that was one of the three returning starters in the defensive backfield along with Gordon and Iman. It was widely expected that all three of them would be earning All-CIF honors this upcoming season with Tyler and Iman already claiming their Honorable Mentions as sophomores and juniors respectively.
"Switch! Switch!" commanded Gordon, the five-foot-seven fiery leader of the secondary, from his safety position.
Like a well oiled machine, the secondary shifted their positioning from a two high safety look with the corners pressed to a single-high safety alignment with Tyler coming down near the line of scrimmage on the strong side and the corners backing off press coverage.
"They're in green now," coach Marcus muttered to James as they looked on, "Watch Tyler on this play, he's got the flats."
"Green 80! Green 80! Green 80 Set!"
The ball was snapped and Jalen took a quick drop step once again but this time, Tyler jumped on the slant, forcing him to scramble out of the pocket, buying time before he found his tight end, junior Austin White, across the middle for a completion.
"That's all you can do," coach Marcus shrugged, "We're not going to face anyone this season remotely as good as Jalen."
.....
"Let me get a motherfucking patty melt man," Noah said, taking a large gulp from his 'water' cup.
"Watch your mouth," Eric snapped back as he entered the order, "Anything else?"
"You want something Jimmy? I got you," Noah yelled out, unaware that James had already walked up and was now behind him.
"I'll have what you having," James thanked him, "How you been bro?"
"I've been better," Eric scoffed as he took the ten dollar bill from Noah, "How about you? Ain't seen you around lately."
"Shooting the breeze and what not," James laughed, "And things of that nature. You know, strictly for cultural purposes."
"I already know it," Eric joined him in laughter.
"Matter of fact," Noah interrupted, "Let my man get another water cup too. We're perched."
"It's called parched," Eric corrected him as he handed James a large cup, free of charge.
"If you're so smart and shit," Noah took another sip, "Why you taking my order then?"
"Let's take it easy," James laughed as he pulled Noah away from the counter and got between him and Eric, "Sorry about that, E."
"Don't sweat it," Eric shrugged it off, "I deal with people like him all day, every day."
"My man," James dapped him up, "Next time you got Erica let me know, I haven't seen her in a while."
"Be easy."
As soon as they walked away from the counter, James placed his hand firmly on Noah's neck. "First and foremost, don't ever disrespect someone I'm cool with like that in front of my face and secondly, that motherfucker is nothing to play with and his family full of some real ass dudes."
"Damn," Noah wrestled away, "He was always a dick to me when he was on the team so I figure I get his ass back. Not my fault he ain't get signed."
"You can be so fucking dumb sometimes," James chuckled, no longer even upset as the young pup he had taken under his wing since last season.
They waited around for their order and once they got their food, they joined Beck, Iman and Tracey at their booth.
"Took y'all long enough," Tracey commented as she couldn't wait to put her arms around Noah.
Their puppy love had made James physically ill over the year as he was sure they wouldn't last more than a few months once Noah got to Poly Tech. The caliber of girls he had been around greatly improved yet he stayed faithful to Tracey.
"Did Eric tell you?" Iman leaned forward, interrupting James' eagerness to eat his second meal of the day.
"I was too busy trying to keep him from eating Noah's head's off. Tell me what?"
"Shut up," Noah defended himself, "I'll whoop his fucking ass."
"Anyway," Iman waved him off, "You know Eric's cousin Lonnie right?"
"Played at San Diego State?"
"Yup," Iman nodded, "Well, he got like some nice ass real estate job because of some booster or some shit."
"Okay?" James said, unsure where Iman was headed.
"Eric was telling me how his cousin told him that Jalen's peoples was like looking for a house around the hills, bro."
"This bullshit again," Noah shook his head.
"I'm actually with Noah on this one," James laughed, "We've been doing this Calabasas shit for like two years now. If he didn't leave as a freshman sitting behind Brandon, why the fuck would he do it now?"
"They approached us at the Adidas camp," Noah explained, "It was me, Jalen and Leon, Eddie might have been there too. One of their coaches was running the clinic, he coaches their DBs or something so ain't really no reason for him to be talking to any of us and he was on us the whole camp bro. At the end, he was deadass like 'yo if you want to come, we can make it happen, set y'all up' but I'm telling you bro, Jalen ain't even say a word to that man. If anything, shit, I probably was the most interested out of all of them but my ass wasn't going to leave Brandon throwing me that rock and I'm not leaving Jalen now."
"He'll go to IMG before he goes to Calabasas," James agreed, "And his family isn't going to let him go to Florida by himself. They just moved here, they're not moving again."
"You ladies seem miserable," said a familiar voice from behind James. Before he could turn around, Tiffany had taken a seat right next to Beck.
"Hey Tiff," Beck smiled as she gave her half a hug, "We're used to it by now. Just football, football, football."
"I would kill myself," Tiffany formed a gun with her right hand and placed it on her temple, "Jakobi ain't so bad, at least around me he isn't."
"You should bring him around some more," Beck suggested, "We could do a triple-decker-date with Iman as our reliable, what, seventh wheel?"
"We should do that," Tiffany smiled as she made brief eye contact with James.
James let out a smirk as he took a sip of his drink and finished off his patty melt.
-
- Posts: 2228
- Joined: 01 Dec 2018, 00:15
Explosions of Grandeur.
Character development until I die. Keep this bitch up.
This feels like a special one.
This feels like a special one.
Explosions of Grandeur.
"Yes, coach?"
"Come on in," coach Collins waved him inside of his office, "Close it behind you."
James took a seat and sat quietly as coach Collins continued to remain fixated on his computer. Almost a full minute went by before coach Collins turned away from his computer and faced James.
"I know you spoke to Junior and coach Butler but I felt like you should also have a talk with me," coach Collins cleared his throat, "We talk a lot about accountability and I'm going to raise my hand and admit that I dropped the ball. As the head coach and having coached you, as a quarterback, for the last three years, the switch should have came from me. A lot of things going on and I just dropped the ball on that."
"No problem, sir."
James knew the game. When he was a stand-out as an eight-grader, he got the personal sit downs with coach Collins and as a freshman, that continued throughout his first season with Long Beach Poly Tech. Coach Collins would massage his ego as to why he wasn't starting as he was promised as an eight-grader, making sure he was still happy at the school and everything was going great. The IMGs of the world would come by and poach many of the top players from the state of California and three years ago, James was just that. That was no longer the case and given that, the one-on-one talks had came to an end.
"I want you to know you're still the backup," coach Collins 'assured' him, "You've only been practicing with the DBs the last few days just to get you accustomed to things but besides that, you are still one of our quarterbacks. Chase should be ready by the fall and then you'll compete with him for the backup role but I still want you getting comfortable at safety. Maybe get some tape at special teams, things like that."
"Sounds good."
"How are things at home?"
James knew he didn't give a shit.
"They're good."
"I'll let you get out of here," coach Collins said with a nod, "Close the door on your way out."
.....
"What the fuck?!"
James found himself started out of his sleep by the sound of a screaming women, surprisingly not the first time in his life. This time, he was unsure of the culprit as he tried to get his bearings together in the pitch darkness before the flip of the light switch revealed a fully naked woman standing behind a half-naked man.
"Oh shit," he muttered.
"The hell you doing here?" Tim grabbed a blanket from the couch and threw it over his companion for the night who seemed a bit out of it, "I didn't hear you come in."
"Got in pretty late," James sat up, using his hand to shield the light from his eyes, "Is it okay if I stay the night?"
"Yeah," Tim scoffed, "Too late for that now, anyway. You haven't been around lately, shit, I figured you finally moved out."
"Just been crashing here and there."
"Timmy," the once scared lady now got a good look at James' face and her attitude quickly changed, "Whose your friend?"
James opened up his mouth but Tim quickly stepped in, "Don't worry about him, he's a quiet sleeper and a deep one. Get back in the room."
"I hope you ain't forget the rules," Tim turned around to face James once the woman was now back in the bedroom.
"Out before sunlight," James answered his father.
"Come on in," coach Collins waved him inside of his office, "Close it behind you."
James took a seat and sat quietly as coach Collins continued to remain fixated on his computer. Almost a full minute went by before coach Collins turned away from his computer and faced James.
"I know you spoke to Junior and coach Butler but I felt like you should also have a talk with me," coach Collins cleared his throat, "We talk a lot about accountability and I'm going to raise my hand and admit that I dropped the ball. As the head coach and having coached you, as a quarterback, for the last three years, the switch should have came from me. A lot of things going on and I just dropped the ball on that."
"No problem, sir."
James knew the game. When he was a stand-out as an eight-grader, he got the personal sit downs with coach Collins and as a freshman, that continued throughout his first season with Long Beach Poly Tech. Coach Collins would massage his ego as to why he wasn't starting as he was promised as an eight-grader, making sure he was still happy at the school and everything was going great. The IMGs of the world would come by and poach many of the top players from the state of California and three years ago, James was just that. That was no longer the case and given that, the one-on-one talks had came to an end.
"I want you to know you're still the backup," coach Collins 'assured' him, "You've only been practicing with the DBs the last few days just to get you accustomed to things but besides that, you are still one of our quarterbacks. Chase should be ready by the fall and then you'll compete with him for the backup role but I still want you getting comfortable at safety. Maybe get some tape at special teams, things like that."
"Sounds good."
"How are things at home?"
James knew he didn't give a shit.
"They're good."
"I'll let you get out of here," coach Collins said with a nod, "Close the door on your way out."
.....
"What the fuck?!"
James found himself started out of his sleep by the sound of a screaming women, surprisingly not the first time in his life. This time, he was unsure of the culprit as he tried to get his bearings together in the pitch darkness before the flip of the light switch revealed a fully naked woman standing behind a half-naked man.
"Oh shit," he muttered.
"The hell you doing here?" Tim grabbed a blanket from the couch and threw it over his companion for the night who seemed a bit out of it, "I didn't hear you come in."
"Got in pretty late," James sat up, using his hand to shield the light from his eyes, "Is it okay if I stay the night?"
"Yeah," Tim scoffed, "Too late for that now, anyway. You haven't been around lately, shit, I figured you finally moved out."
"Just been crashing here and there."
"Timmy," the once scared lady now got a good look at James' face and her attitude quickly changed, "Whose your friend?"
James opened up his mouth but Tim quickly stepped in, "Don't worry about him, he's a quiet sleeper and a deep one. Get back in the room."
"I hope you ain't forget the rules," Tim turned around to face James once the woman was now back in the bedroom.
"Out before sunlight," James answered his father.