Explosions of Grandeur.

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Captain Canada
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Explosions of Grandeur.

Post by Captain Canada » 30 Aug 2019, 13:48

Tender situation there with Ricky and Mya. Interested to see where you're going with that.

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Soapy
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Explosions of Grandeur.

Post by Soapy » 03 Sep 2019, 15:50

James’ plan had backfired. Eager to avoid the mess that is Los Angeles County traffic, he had left Oakland in the wee hours of Friday morning, his classes be damned. It was the team’s bye week and he was going to take advantage of it by returning to familiar territory but there he was at eleven in the morning, nowhere to go.

Beck wouldn’t be done with school for another few hours and after killing some time by visiting Eric, he was a man without a home. James decided on heading down a street he had gone down a few times, just typically in the passenger seat of somebody else’s car.

It had only been a few months but it still struck James how everything looked the same. The paint was the same color, similar looking students walked the halls while a few of the staff members recognized him and gave him a head nod.

He eventually finished the long trek and reached the athletic facilities, swinging open the double doors and making way to the locker room. He knocked on the glass window, startling coach Butler out of his mid-day nap.

“Fucking A,” coach Butler rubbed his eyes as he stood up and greeted James, “You lucky I wasn’t packing, son.”

“You wouldn’t do me like that,” James said with a big smile as they shared a hug.

“What happened to your other half?” coach Butler teased as he patted his former quarterback on the stomach.

“JUCO caff diet,” James laughed, backing away from coach Butler’s aggressive pat down.

“I’ll bet,” coach Butler continued to assess James from a physical standpoint, “What you weighing these days?”

“About 207,” James shrugged, “I just can’t keep weight on these days.”

“That was never an issue here,” coach Butler scoffed, “Get back in with Carlos and he’ll get you right, get you ready to start next season. Heard you’ve been balling over there, coach at City was practically begging for me to give you his personal.”

“I heard they’re trash,” James took a seat.

“Well,” coach Butler joined him, “With what happened with Jakobi and all of that, hard for a team to recover psychologically. What about you? How are you holding up?”

James hadn’t thought about it. He was a bit ashamed of that, how quickly he was able to bury those last few weeks with Tiffany. Everything after prom was sort of a blur. His life was almost on pause between prom night and his first day at Laney.

“I’m fine,” James nodded, “How are the boys looking this year?”

“Started rough,” coach Butler admitted, “So much shit now with being the head guy, fundraisers, all that shit, we weren’t ready to start the season. We’re 5-2 now, though, looking solid. We got Compton this week, I was watching film on them before last night’s lack of sleep caught up with me.”

“The baby giving you hell?”

“Good lord,” he scoffed, “God bless my wife, I don’t know how she does it all day.”

A sense of sadness took over James.

“She’ll love to host you for dinner,” coach Butler suggested, “Unless you had plans.”

“Not really,” James wasn’t going to say no to a home-cooked meal, “How’s Compton this year?”

“They got some big boys,” coach Butler pressed play on the projector.

The two of them sat there for the next hour, pouring over the film as they had done in years past as if nothing had changed.

....

“I prefer you thick,” Beck teased as she slapped James on the butt, drawing a sharp look from him.

“I was never thick,” James corrected her as they took a seat.

James didn’t hesitate to bite into his taco, gulping it down in just a few bites before moving on to another one.

“That’s what I like to see,” Beck smiled as she started working on hers, wiping the corners of her mouth with her tongue.

“We don’t have shit like this,” James shook his head as he watched the mass of students heading into the Chipotle store they had just left.

“Really? Chipotle isn’t exactly like a hidden gem.”

“We got the caf,” James explained, “That’s all your meal plan gets you. Anything else? Off-campus and you need cash.”

“You guys don’t get stipends?”

“Hell nah,” James laughed, “I was already counting the money Fresno was going to give me too with that stipend shit.”

“Oops,” Beck said. They both paused for a second before laughing at a situation that neither of them found funny just a few months ago.


“I wish you did all this inquiring before you sent my ass over there.”

“From what I’ve heard,” she tilted her head, “You’re doing pretty great over there so can I get some credit too if I’m going to shoulder some blame?”

“Just a little.”

James returned his attention to the remaining two tacos in front of him, pondering ordering some more. He peeked inside and saw the line already forming and thought better of it. He snacked on some chips as Beck finished off her plate.

“I have something to tell you.”

James looked up, swallowing the bits of chips that were still in his throat, “Yes?”

“There’s no non-awkward way to bring it up,” she started off, “I was hoping to sort of slide it into the conversation.”

“Come on,” James grew impatient.

“I’m seeing someone,” Beck blurted out, a sigh of relief evident on her face.

“Oh.”

“It’s nothing...it’s getting serious, actually. I don’t know if you even care or want to know.....”

“Why do I give a fuck who is fucking you now?” James put on a poker face as he ate another chip.

“James.

“James what? You can fuck half the motherfuckers on campus, I don’t give a shit. Not my problem anymore.”

“It was never your problem,” she scoffed as she got up and started to walk away before James’ grabbed her and pulled her back down.

“Sorry,” he muttered, “I mean...how do you expect me to react?”

“Be happy for me?”

“You’re right.”

“Not act like a fucking child.”
“I’m sorry,” James looked into her eyes, “It’s just...a lot going on right now and with everything I’ve lost this year, I....”

“You’re not losing me,” she assured him, “Besides, you’ve called me like, what, twice in the last few months?”

“I’ve been busy.”

“It’s fine,” she shrugged, “It’s just that I feel like I’ve put my interest behind yours since forever and now I know what I want and it ain’t from you and that’s okay.”

Beck spoke harshly but truthfully. A part of James was proud of her, he never figured that she would ever realize how great of a catch she was to not have a title or any sort of long term commitment.

She deserved that and James himself knew that he wasn’t the one to give her that.

....

“Ohio State looking like the move,” Tyler smiled as he took a sip from the bottle.

“Jalen committed there, right?”

“Yeah,” Tyler confirmed.

“UCLA is fucking up,” James shook his head. Jalen and Tyler, who both received their fifth-star over the summer, were once considered locks for the Bruins. Chip Kelly’s rough start had squandered those chances.

“Noah is still looking at them,” Tyler was filling James’ in on all of the local happenings, even though Noah had found himself in Florida, ‘playing’ for IMG Academy down in Bradenton, Florida.

Despite riding the oak for the last two seasons at Calabasas and IMG, his impressive sophomore season while at Poly had kept schools like UCLA and USC interested in the shifty receiver.

“How’s Laney?”

“It’s okay,” James was over explaining to people what his situation was like. The dinner with the Butler’s had turned into a confessional with them asking a million questions that he quite frankly didn’t give a fuck about.

Tyler and James continued to shoot the shit in the back of Tyler’s pickup truck in an abandoned lot. It was nearing midnight and neither of them felt like calling it a night and heading home. In James’ case, he didn’t have a place to stay and heading home would mean taking the road and bracing a six-hour drive.

“I best get going,” Tyler sighed as he jumped onto the ground, dusting his pants off and kicking the empty beer bottle into the dark of the night.

James slowly got out as well, checking his balance to make sure he was okay to drive.

“Let me know when you’re back,” Tyler dapped him up and brought him in for a half hug, “Give you something real proper with the rest of the boys. You know when Iman and them coming down?”

“Probably not until after the season,” James answered as he started walking towards his car, tumbling into the driver's seat, “I’ll catch you later, man.”

James watched as Tyler peeled off into the main road, kicking up some dirt before disappearing into the street. James sat for a while before doing the same, turning his GPS on his phone and placing it on the dashboard.

ETA: 6:36 A.M.

He only drove for a few minutes before the alcohol started eating away at his stomach linings. It had been a few hours since he ate so he pulled into a gas station, deciding to kill two birds with one stone.

“Sup,” James muttered as he walked past the cashier and headed straight for the hot dog that looked like it had been sitting in that heated roller for at least 36 hours.

He grabbed the small paper bag and stuffed two of them in there, skipping on the bread. He walked a few aisles down and got himself some chips and some Gatorade from the cooler. He contemplated getting some energy drinks as well but the fifty dollars that coach Butler gave him was only going to stretch so thin.

He walked up to the register and plopped those items down.

“$20 on pum....”

“Jimmy?”

James turned around and saw someone stagger into the store. Similar to James, the person had a few drinks in him and it showed. Like father, like son.

James stood there in silence, just watching as Tim got closer.

“On what pump?” the cashier asked, not exactly caring for this reunion.

“Six,” James said, keeping eye contact with his father.

The cashier rang him up, giving him some change and placing all of his items in a plastic bag. Tim stood there as well, waiting for the transaction to be over.

“You back?” Tim asked as James tried to walk past him and out of the store.

James stopped and turned around, “Nah, just visiting town.”

“Heard you in Oakland now,” Tim cleared his throat, “That’s what the boys over by the track been saying.”

“Yeah.”

“Playing ball, I figure?”

“Yes.”

“You run into Naomi by any chance?”

James looked at him with a puzzled face. Why the fuck would he run into her?

“Nah,” he shook his head, “I haven’t. It’s a pretty big fucking city.”

“Mind checking up on her?” Tim approached James and took out his phone, “I ain’t hear from her in a minute and well, she was calling me from time to time and she....”

James scoffed and then turned around, opening the door to exit the store.

“I ain’t asking for me,” Tim said desperately, “That women treated you good...she treated both of us good and I’m worried about her.”

“Ain’t my problem,” he said flatly before exiting the door and walking to his car, leaving the sad old man to his lonesome.
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Captain Canada
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Explosions of Grandeur.

Post by Captain Canada » 04 Sep 2019, 18:57

Damn, Naomi dead in a gutter, huh.

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Soapy
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Explosions of Grandeur.

Post by Soapy » 05 Sep 2019, 09:36

Captain Canada wrote:
04 Sep 2019, 18:57
Damn, Naomi dead in a gutter, huh.
damn bruh lmao shit got dark with you

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Explosions of Grandeur.

Post by Soapy » 11 Sep 2019, 10:30

James tried to stretch his back out while still remaining in his seat. He wasn’t sure when but one of his eleven carries in tonight’s win over City College of San Francisco left a hurting on his back that the bus ride across the bridge wasn’t helping.

He had once again found some success running the package that coach Haag had conjured up in conjunction with Jordon in the passing game. They were tough, in-between the tackle runs that often ended with three or more defenders bringing James down.

“Sacramento was at the game,” Ricky mentioned, snapping James’ out of his semi-nap.

“Word?”

“They asked about you,” Ricky nodded, “I heard them talking to Jordon and coach B and shit. He was trying to talk to me but you know my rule, Power 5 and up!”

“What they say?”

“Same shit. Who the fuck is number 46? Why is he wearing number 46? Is he eligible? They feeling you out before that offer comes.”

“Why they ain’t talking to me then?”

“Probably because coach wants to keep your ass around until next year,” Ricky explained.

James had never considered leaving after just one season, not with just 21 pass attempts to his name at the junior college level. His film was coming together but exclusively as a runner and his body -- robust as it once was -- wasn’t going to last like that.

“I don’t mind running that ball but that shit getting old.”

“I’d tell them,” Ricky shrugged, “If they ain’t gonna have you out there actually throwing the ball, putting together some shit for your tape to show to coaches, you’re going to transfer.”

Despite his fast talking ways, Ricky typically had good advice when it came to the business of football. James ignored it as his recent visit to Long Beach made him thankful for what he had here: a root over his head, three hot ‘meals’ and something to do every day.

The bus finally made its way back to campus and the boys hobbled out of it, packing themselves into the locker room. Coach Beam gave a brief speech, one that James paid no mind as he finished getting undressed.

“Jackson,” coach Haag shouted from the coach's office, “Stop by before heading out.”

James sighed as he put down his bag and walked over as Jordon was just leaving the coach's office.

“Good running out there,” coach Haag complimented him as James stepped inside. The rest of the coaches were already getting their keys and heading for the exit along with the rest of the players.

“Thanks, coach.”

“You know,” he looked up from what he was doing, “Sacramento State came around asking about you. I was trying to sell them hard on John because they need a running back but he said you were the best runner from tonight.”

“Really?”

“He ain’t the first to tell me that,” coach Haag admitted, “With guys like Derrick Henry, a six-four running back ain’t out of this world. Now, I still look at you as QB1 for next season but think about it this weekend, you and Jordon on the field at the same time might open some things up for us.”

....

“I said one sip!” Popeye said firmly, taking the bottle away from her. She shot him a nasty look before walking away and her friend got next in line to get a sip of Hennessy.

“Broke shit,” Ricky commented as he took a seat next to James, looking in disgust at Popeye’s little operation.

“He better get some pussy out of that shit,” James laughed, passing over his flask to Ricky who turned it down.

James had rarely been invited to attend any of the team functions that typically took place after games but this time, Ricky got the invite and dragged him to it. Popeye quickly became the life of the party when he took out a 750ML bottle of Hennessy.

It wasn’t the type of scene that James enjoyed, which made it alright with him that he hadn’t been previously invited. It was over a dozen of the football players with a few of their female counterparts -- most of which have already been repeatedly ran through -- crammed inside one of the apartment dorms.

“We better dominate them,” John said to no one in particular as most of the stars of the team -- Ricky, Jordon, Angelo, John and James -- sort of hung around the couch area.

They weren’t a tight unit, this wasn’t high school. No one wanted to be here and they certainly weren’t that much invested into each other’s success. This might have been the first time they were all hanging out outside of a football environment.

“How are they?” Angelo turned towards Jordon who had played for Santa Rosa, going 1-4 as a starter before transferring over to Laney.

“They’re not as good as their record,” Jordon shook his head, “I’m putting up at least 300 on them boys.”

“As long as I get my two touchdowns,” John agreed, “That can be your show out game.”

None of the boys seemed preoccupied with their next game which wasn’t Santa Rosa but San Mateo.

“All y’all niggas sorry,” Ricky said sharply.

“What’s your problem, man?” Angelo asked his fellow receiver, “You been bitching all night.”

“I see a bunch of D-2 and San Diego State ass niggas,” Ricky shrugged.

“Better than your boy,” John snickered, nodding towards James, “He even got an offer?”

“If coach would actually play the best players he would,” Ricky stepped in before James could open his mouth.

“Y’all boys chill out,” Popeye had made his way to the conversation that was getting warmer by the second, “It’s bitches out here man and y’all still talking this football shit?”

“It’s bitches right here,” James teased, getting a laugh from Ricky and Popeye.

“Fuck you,” Jordon spat out.

James got up and so did Jordon as the men were now nose-to-nose. Neither of them said anything as Angelo started tapping Jordon on the leg, “Y’all relax, it ain’t that serious.”

“Take it easy,” Popeye placed his hand on James’ chest, creating separation between him and Jordon.

Both men nodded and returned to their seats.

“You got anything left in that bottle?” Angelo asked Popeye, pointing to the Hennessy bottle in his hand.

“Just a li....”

Without a warning, Ricky lunged across the couch and landed what seemed like a bevy of shots on Jordon. Jordon, who was sitting on a stool next to the couch, fell to the ground. Ricky kept pounding at him with both fists and elbows before Angelo and John pulled him off.

John cocked back, as if ready to retaliate some of those blows, but James tackled him to the ground. He pushed John’s face onto the floor, drawing a few curse words out of him. Before James knew it, someone struck him on the back of the head and he fell to the ground as well.

James and Ricky quickly found themselves outnumbered once Popeye was neutralized -- largely due to his intoxication -- as Angelo, John and Jordon took turns kicking James and Ricky while they were on the ground. The screams of the onlookers quickly turned into oohs and ahhs as they pulled out their phones.

James struggled to finally get to his feet and grabbed a lamp, throwing it at John’s head. He missed but the lamp was able to back them off, giving Ricky time to also find his footing.

And then a loud knock on the door. A knock that James was all too familiar with.
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Explosions of Grandeur.

Post by Captain Canada » 11 Sep 2019, 12:59

And White Chocolate gets dismissed again.

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Explosions of Grandeur.

Post by Soapy » 17 Sep 2019, 14:44

James tried to get comfortable in his chair but he could never quite find the right fit. He examined Ricky’s body language -- calm and relaxed -- and tried to mimic it but inside he was terrified.

“Stop fucking moving,” John said through his teeth.

It was easy for Ricky and John, they had a multitude of offers and whatever the end result of this meeting was, it would have little to no effect on their standing with said schools.

The door swung open and in walked coach Beam, sporting a tidy haircut that the players weren’t used to. He donned a suit, another outlier, as he sat down across from them.

“What the fuck?”

None of them dared answer his question except, of course, Ricky.

“Just some bullshit,” Ricky smiled, “You know how the alcohol gets people, man.”

“Shut the fuck up,” coach Beam fired back at his star player, “You’re not even supposed to be fucking drinking yet alone on fucking campus yet alone getting into a fucking brawl!”

“It wasn’t a brawl,” Ricky corrected him, “We brothers, right? Brothers fight. Ain’t that so, coach?”

“Ricky,” coach Beam sighed, “Just....shut up. We’ve got damage of property, underage drinking and we haven’t even gotten to the campus and team rules you guys broke.”

“Damage of property?” John asked.

“A lamp is property,” coach Beam interjected, “Whichever one of you idiots threw that lamp, you can thank ‘em for that. Now, I spoke to the chief and the campus police and they’re not going to ding you guys up. It’s just a college party that got out of hand.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Ricky shook his head.

“You guys are suspended for the San Mateo game,” coach Beam said flatly.

“What?!”

“Are you serious, coach?!”

James sat there quietly as Ricky and John pleaded their cases. He was just happy to still have a place to stay.

....

“Don’t get used to this,” Mya said from the kitchen as James and Ricky wrapped up what felt like their sixth game of Madden.

“You love cooking for me,” Ricky shouted back as he watched his team get down to a 14-10 deficit, “Man, fuck Todd Gurley.”

“That boy good as hell,” James smirked.

“Here y’all go,” Mya said as she placed the bowl of chicken wings down on the coffee table.

“Thanks,” Ricky said quickly before returning his attention to the game.

Mya stepped in front of the television -- which James did not mind one bit -- and got their attention, “Excuse me? My wings aren’t “let me just eat them while I play the game” kind of wings.”

James paused the game and put the controller down, getting a groan from Ricky.

“How you gonna let her win?” he shook his head as he scooted up and grabbed a wing, “These some good ass wings, though.”

“I could smell it,” James said as he took a bite and looked at Mya, “What?”

“I could have y’all eating out my hand, literally, if I wanted to.”

“This ain’t your mom cooking,” Ricky chewed loudly, “But that shit hit.”

“Whatever,” she said as she dug her hand into the bowl and pulled out a wing, “Y’all boys really not going to the game?”

“For what?” Ricky shook his head, “Mateo is lightwork and Ricky Jean-Francois don’t sit on the bench for no one.”

“You need to smack him up when he starts that third person shit,” Mya told James, “You a damn liar too, I know my daddy done kept your ass on the bench a few times.”

“I was a motherfucking jit,” Ricky explained, “That shit don’t count.”

“You should still support the team though,” Mya shrugged, “I expect this bullshit from Ricky.”

“What’s bullshit is us getting suspended and the other guys playing today,” James seethed.

“Don’t get scratched in the face next time,” Ricky scoffed, “You white motherfuckers scar up easily.”

“I was wondering why the cops knew it was you,” Mya placed her index finger on James’ face, outlining the few scratch marks on his face, “I know as soon as they saw Ricky’s black ass, they cuffed him.”

“Them other fuckboys ain’t had nothing on them so when cops start asking who was involved, they picked us out easily. They lucky I’m on some real nigga shit because a lesser nigga would have told on they ass.”

“His dumb ass was cursing the cops out too,” James let out a chuckle, “Mind you, they were already going to let us go but this motherfucker here started his whole “I’m Ricky” speech like they gave a fuck.”

“My name hold weight,” Ricky smiled, “If y’all did too, y’all would understand.”

.....

“I can’t believe they lost,” Ricky laughed as he put his phone in James’ face, lightning up the dark living room.

They had spent the night eating wings and driving beer followed by a few shots to celebrate....nothing really so when both James and Ricky stumbled to their feet upon their attempt at an exit, Mya managed to convince them to crash on her couch given that her roommates were out of town for the weekend,

“How’d Jordon play?”

“I ain’t check,” Ricky shrugged, “Them boys scored eighteen points though so I know they missed my ass. You too.”

“We’ll see come tomorrow,” James was oddly excited. The latest incident was the straw that broke the camel’s back when it came to his disdain for Jordon.

Ricky went back to laying down and so did James as thoughts began racing through his mind. The layout of Mya’s apartment was similar to the one he shared with Tiffany. She wouldn’t be due for another four months but they’d have known the baby’s gender by now, maybe even a name.

“Yo Rick, where the bathroom at? Ricky? Rick, you up?”

James’ question went unanswered as looked over to find that Ricky had already fallen back asleep. He shook his head as he got up and walked over to one of Mya’s roommates room but both doors were unlocked.

He saw light coming from under Mya’s door and hesitated but the alcohol had taken its toll and he needed it out of his system. He hesitantly knocked before he heard a voice.

“Come in,” she said, “Oh, I thought you were Ricky.”

“Ricky wouldn’t knock,” James teased, “Mind if I use your bathroom?”

“Yeah,” Mya laughed at Ricky’s expense, “On the left.”

He made his way to the bathroom, lifting up the seat as he relieved himself. His eyes wandered from corner to corner, inspecting his surroundings. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for but he was looking for something.

She was an enigma to him. She was smart and yet was at Laney and hung around Aria and Asia which didn’t seem to connect. To be blunt, they were tricks and Mya seemed above that, at least she should be in James’ mind.

He finished up, washing his hands and face as the effects of the alcohol hadn’t completely worn off.

“Thanks,” he muttered as he tried to power-walk from the bathroom to the bedroom door.

“I’d respect it more if you just asked to fuck me,” she shot at him, “Instead of all this Ricky bullshit.”

“Excuse me?” James was literally taken aback.

“That little snide comment when you came in,” she scoffed, “You’re always bringing him up, getting in your own way.”

“Who said I even want to fuck you?”

“So you’re telling me if I was done, you’d say no?” she called his bluff as she was now sitting on the edge of her bed, showing just the right amount of skin in her boy shorts.

“I’m not doing this,” James forced a smile.

“Ricky wouldn’t have hesitated,” she pierced his soul with that comment, “He’d be balls deep in me right now.”

“Is that what you want?” James asked, a bit confused as to how he ended up there.

“Whatever,” she snickered, “Goodnight.”
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Explosions of Grandeur.

Post by Captain Canada » 18 Sep 2019, 00:39

Mya something else. James gonna get his ass in trouble though, I can feel it.

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Explosions of Grandeur.

Post by Soapy » 24 Sep 2019, 11:29

Captain Canada wrote:
18 Sep 2019, 00:39
Mya something else. James gonna get his ass in trouble though, I can feel it.
james ain't even done nothing smh

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Explosions of Grandeur.

Post by Soapy » 24 Sep 2019, 13:20

James was almost glad he was suspended for the San Mateo after the verbal tongue-lashing that the coaches had just handed out during film sessions. Coach Haag had made it a point to sit in on the film session with coach Rob with just the quarterbacks and he was more critical than coach Rob typically was of his darling Jordon.

The positional film review was followed up by the offensive film review and then the entire team watched the tape once more together. This was a first and by no means a coincidence as the team was now 5-2 with chances of winning state championship slipping out of their grasp.

This was supposed to be the team to do with a supreme talent like Ricky and ancillary pieces like John at running back, Jordon and D-1 players all over the defense.

“You need to ball out against your old team,” Junior told Jordon as the quarterbacks started their trek to the practice field, beating out most of the other players.

“They’re talking mad shit already,” Jordon shook his head, “They’ve been blowing up my phone since last week and after that game? They’ve been steady on my shit.”

James lingered behind them, only half paying attention to the conversation as they reached the field. Coach Haag was once again shadowing coach Rob as the quarterbacks got loose throwing to each other.

....

“Eagle! Eagle! Kill! Kill! Fuck it! Just run it!”

James hustled back to line up behind the center and clapped his hands, signaling for the center to snap the ball. He lowered himself as he tucked the ball into John’s belly before pulling it out and sending the ball straight into Ricky’s chest.

Ricky bobbled it for a while before bringing it in and cutting it upfield. He jogged for a few more yards before coach Haag blew the whistle.

“Hurry! Hurry! Lightning! Lightning!”

James barked orders as they hurried up to where coach Rob had now spotted the ball, about 12 yards from the previous line of scrimmage. The offense got snap and the ball was snapped, this time with James taking a few steps to his left, faking the pitch to John who was flanking him and then planting his right foot and sprinting into the endzone.

Despite the apparent touchdown, coach Haag signaled for coach Rob to place the ball around the 12-yard line.

“Hurry! Hurry!” James yelled as he looked towards coach Haag’s hand signals, “Window! Window!”

James got the snap and threw a pump fake as Ricky ran a smoke screen and turned his chest towards James. Angelo, who was lined up on the inside of Ricky, faked a block on Ricky’s defender before flying towards the end zone. James reset his feet, squared his shoulders and lofted the ball towards the pylon.

Angelo turned to his back shoulder, snagging the ball out of the air before falling to the ground.

“Way to run the two-minute,” coach Haag tapped James on the helmet as the quarterback jogged off the field.

“Jordon, you’re up!” coach Rob shouted as the rest of the first team offense stayed on the field.

“On that second play,” coach Haag shifted his focus from the offense on the field to James, “If you feel those linebackers screaming down, check out of it.”

James nodded as the ball was snapped and Jordon’s pass bounced off Ricky’s hands.

“With you in the game,” coach Haag continued, “The linebackers will probably be stepping forward first and then dropping into their zone, you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Get comfortable with the checks,” coach Haag signaled another play for the offense before looking away, “Bench, Lime, Eagle, you called Eagle on that last drive right?”

“I killed it,” James shook his head, “I felt like Ricky was winning leverage so I wanted to keep it going.”

“Good call,” coach Haag nodded.
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