Grown Man Football
As he lined up across from a diminutive cornerback, donning Vanderbilt’s trademark black and gold, Caesar listened to the crowd’s chants of “cheater” interspersed with a chorus of booing. If it were in a bigger stadium with a more pronounced homefield advantage, they might actually have had a shot at throwing Tulane off as they settled in for the first snap from scrimmage of the game.
Caesar glanced at the safeties as they shifted to a single high look. He immediately looked back inside to Darren who gestured for him to change his route as he continued to make the necessary pre-snap adjustments.
The cornerback shifted his alignment and took a few steps back away from the line of scrimmage.
Darren called to the snap.
Caesar burst off the line with the corner looking to force him to the inside. Stabbing his left foot into the turf, he faked a cut. The cornerback bit on the fake, jumping the route. That allowed Caesar to get to the outside and he immediately threw his hand up for the ball.
Darren obliged him as he stepped and lofted a pass down the sideline that fell perfectly over Caesar’s shoulder.
The big gain would turn into a bigger one as the safety sprinted to cut off Caesar’s angle, but only found air as he dove at Caesar’s ankles. From there, it was a foot race and Caesar wasn’t going to lose it as he ran into the endzone.
He put his finger to his lips, shushing the crowd as he shuffled sideways, before turning around the celebrate with his teammates.
…
“And he’s back like he never left, ladies and gentlemen! Caesar Jenkins takes the first pass of the game 73 yards for a touchdown and the Green Wave are up early after a big play from their big play receiver on the outside.”
“You can see the kind of attention he commands when a player bites on a fake like Theron Keen does here. Once he does that, it was over for the Commodores’ defense. But I tell you what, I bet they don’t run too many more single high safety looks today!”
…
“Quentin Fleck throws that one well off after being hurried in the backfield by Mario Miles.”
…
“Another misfire from Fleck and that’ll bring up 3rd and 10.”
…
“Barrett is brought down in the backfield and that’s going to see Vanderbilt forced to punt on their opening drive."
...
“Reyes hands it off to Frazier and he can scoot! Fifteen on the play before being pushed out of bounds.”
…
“Nigel Conrad gets in on the action with a reception for 10 yards.”
…
“Jenkins makes the catch and moves the chains. Gain of 11.”
…
“Jericho Armstrong gets into the backfield and flushes Reyes out but he flips it to Dallas over the middle for a gain of 5. Reyes is rushing the Green Wave back to the line, going with some tempo! He snaps it quickly and calls his own number! Another big gain of 17 before he slides down!”
“The Commodores might need a timeout to settle down after that because they’re looking flustered out there already.”
…
“Frazier powers it over the line and that’s a touchdown for the Green Wave!”
…
Devin swung his arm under the receiver’s ripping through his attempt to block him at the line of scrimmage. He kept a hold of Devin’s jersey for a few seconds before Devin was able to use his momentum to toss him aside.
The back got caught up on the pulling guard as he tried to make it to the outside with olive jerseys crashing down to meet the play.
Devin closed the distance preparing to make an attempt at the tackle. Before he could, Mario dove at the running back’s legs and tripped him up, allowing Devin to simply come in and shove the ball carrier over for an easy stop in the backfield.
He helped the big defensive end up to his feet and smacked him on the top of his helmet in thanks for making the tackle easier.
…
“That’s going to bring up third and five. Vanderbilt needs to convert here to get into the redzone and have a shot at stemming some of this Tulane momentum with a touchdown. Fleck’s in the shotgun…”
…
Devin got some depth as he dropped back into his zone assignment, giving the receiver a bit of a shove to throw off the timing of his route as he ran in front of him. Vandy’s quarterback was almost immediately under pressure as Blair ran straight through the A gap on a blitz.
The quarterback dumped it off the tight end just as he was getting hit.
Devin broke toward the play. Wrapping his arms around the tight end’s waist, he used his momentum to spin him to the ground just short of the first down marker.
…
“Back to back stops by Devin King and the Commodores are going to have to attempt a long field goal here!”
…
“It’s up and it squeaks inside the uprights. Vanderbilt is on the board. Tulane 14, Commodores 3.”
…
“That’s another catch for Caesar Jenkins…”
…
“Thibodeaux fights for the first down…”
…
“…Greer hauls it in on the post and that’s going to be a touchdown for the Green Wave!”
…
“Kerby Greer with the big hit in the backfield!”
…
“Batted down by Vaughn.”
…
“Volken makes the play despite being held by a pair of Vandy receivers!”
…
“Huge gain from Frazier…”
…
“Reyes flips it out to Jenkins for a short pickup…”
…
“Stanson brings it in and Tulane is moving the ball at will!”
…
“Frazier is brought down after a short gain of 2, but the Green Wave are inside the 10 and that’ll be a first down!”
…
Darren lifted his foot and motioned for Caesar to shift to the opposite side of the formation. As he did, both the corner and one of the safeties followed him.
Once he was set, the safety came all the way up to the line of scrimmage alongside the corner who was also set to press him at the line. It looked more like something you’d see on a punt than on a first and goal.
Caesar caught Darren’s attention and pointed up, but the quarterback shook his head and continued to make his pre-snap adjustments. Caesar repeated the gesture as Darren stepped back from the line, but he didn’t make any indication back the second time.
The junior clapped twice and called for the snap.
Caesar shuffled to the left and then burst to the right, getting to the outside of the corner. He positioned his body between the two players and the shrinking corner of the endzone.
Darren was flushed out of the pocket but didn’t have anywhere to run. Falling back just as he was getting hit, he threw the ball in Caesar’s direction.
Caesar leapt into the air – as did the two defensive backs – and threw an arm back to catch the ball. Contorting his body in the air, he tapped the heels of both feet in the tiniest shreds of colored turf before falling out of bounds.
…
“Oh! My! Days! That’s going to be reviewed but that’s a catch of the year contender if there ever was one!”
“Get off me, youngster! That’s a grown man out there! A lot of people say that Caesar Jenkins is the closest thing we’ve had to Calvin Johnson since Johnson retired and if that’s the kind of thing he can do then I think he deserves that comparison!”
“And the review confirms it! Touchdown Tulane! Wow!”
…
“Picked off! Fleck threw it deep and that might be termed an arm punt as Marcus Freebird catches it!”
…
“…first down, Green Wave.”
…
“…first down, Green Wave.”
…
“…first down, Green Wave. There’s some pushing and shoving down there. The referees might want to get a handle on this before it gets out of hand.”
“Caesar Jenkins made that catch. That’s one of the things you get from with this kid. Let’s just say he divides opinion on the field.”
…
“Reyes takes it himself and Tulane is running riot! Touchdown! It’s going to be 35-3 heading into the half.”
…
“Vandy actually moving the ball here on the opening drive of the third quarter. First down after a 5 yard gain by Barrett.”
…
“The Commodores can’t catch a break as that holding penalty will kill their momentum.”
…
“Alvarez makes the stop and Vanderbilt will be facing another long third down attempt!”
…
Devin shoved his hands into the receiver’s chest as he tried to get of the line of scrimmage. The two of them fought for position as the wideout tried to get free.
He managed to get Devin’s arms outside of his body and immediately cut to the inside, his eyes darting into the backfield.
Devin stumbled as his feet got tangled with the receiver’s, gaining his opponent a step on him and he could only watch as the quarterback opted for the quick pass over the middle. The receiver made De’Anthony miss and turned up field but slowed down as his blockers got in front of him.
Putting his head down, Devin ran full speed toward the receiver and swung his fist down over his shoulder to punch at the ball. With a loose grip on the ball, the receiver lost it and the ball hit the turf.
A pile of Green Wave defenders were the first to react to the ball before the Vandy offensive linemen jumped into the scrum. Devin made the business decision to stay out of it as the bigger players fought for the ball under the mess of bodies.
The referees took some time detangling everyone before Kendrick crawled out from the bottom of everyone, jumped to his feet and took off toward the Tulane sideline with the ball held over his head.
…
“Big play from the freshman corner Devin King to force the ball out and it’s Green Wave ball!”
“Mark, this Tulane squad has playmakers all over the field on both sides of the ball and that’s another example of that right there.”
…
“Vanderbilt actually makes a stop and Tulane will punt for the first time today.”
…
“The Commodores bog down in the redzone and will settle for the field goal. Aguayo to kick. It’s up and it’s good. 35-6.”
…
“He’s wide open! Caesar Jenkins walks in for the 24 yard touchdown reception and that’s surely the dagger as he stares down the crowd! The Commodores aren’t happy with themselves for allowing that touchdown!”
“You don’t want to see your secondary getting lost against any receiver, but when you’re losing a guy who already had two touchdowns today, it’s not a good look.”
“I don’t know if you all noticed this at home, but the Green Wave’s backup quarterback Michael Hammond was warming up that entire drive. It looks like Denver Shuman is calling off the dogs and sending in his backups.”
“There is still time left in the third quarter.”
“You’d almost be forgiven for forgetting that this Vanderbilt team beat Tulane’s hated in-state rivals LSU earlier this year.”
“Well, let’s remember LSU has only won 3 games this year so far. That’s not a vintage Tigers team.”
…
Caesar walked toward the locker room, ignoring the handful of Vanderbilt players who passed by him and attempted to shake his hand after the game – one in which the Commodores suffered a 54-6 beating that saw the second teamers get a full quarter of run and actually put points on the board against SEC opposition.
A woman wearing press credentials and tailed by a cameraman ran over to him, stopping him for an interview.
Much to the woman’s visible chagrin, an SID appeared out of nowhere and stood beside Caesar.
“Caesar, how does it feel to get back out onto the field after missing a few games? It looks like you didn’t miss a beat from how well you were playing earlier this season?” the reporter asked.
“They couldn’t figure out how to beat me on the field so they decided that they would come up with some shit that I was somehow cheating. All I gotta say is that it’s going to be a long day for whoever we gotta play.”
“12 receptions for 194 yards and 3 touchdowns. Do you think that the Commodores maybe though you’d start slow after not practicing for the better part of a month?”
Caesar shrugged. “I think their coach needs to think about pulling some scholarships.”
The SID leaned into the conversation, holding up one finger to indicate they only had more question to ask.
“Next week, you all travel to Alabama for a primetime game against the Crimson Tide. Shad Rawlings is one of the best corners in the nation and a Thorpe contender. Do you think that you can replicate this performance against a top defender like Shad Rawlings?”
“I hope he plans on wearing his nice panties if he’s going to let himself get fuc—”
The SID quickly stepped between Caesar and the reporter and shepherded him away before he could finish that line.
“I don’t think we’re going to be able to use that,” the cameraman said.
“My ass I’m not,” the woman said before turning to scan the field to grab another player for an interview before the post-game press gaggles formed around them.
War of the Roses: Redux Edition
-
Captain Canada
- Posts: 2197
- Joined: 01 Dec 2018, 00:15
War of the Roses: Redux Edition
This dude said nice panties 
War of the Roses: Redux Edition
You Wildin’, Youngster
Devin swung his car into an empty parking space outside of a diner that looked like it had seen better days thirty years ago. But there in the rural expanse of Louisiana’s “Saints” parishes along I-10 between Baton Rouge and New Orleans, small restaurants like the one before him had been open long before he was alive and would be open long after he was gone.
A couple of truckers held the door open for him as he stepped inside the building, plates of food in hand as they prepared to continue on their way to some other part of the country to transport goods. Devin nodded his thanks as he scanned the rows of cheap tables and chairs from a bygone era.
Hasan sat along the far wall, tearing into a plate of fried chicken. He had a leg in one hand and a fork in the other to scrap up what looks to be macaroni and cheese. He didn’t look up from the plate until Devin sat down across from him.
“You fucking that up, huh?” Devin asked. He reached out to grab the menu from under the plate and Hasan moved his arms to block the plate causing Devin to laugh. “Chill out, bruh. No one taking it from you. Do they not feed y’all in Baton Rouge?”
Hasan waved off the comment and took another bite from the chicken leg, talking with his mouth full. “They do, but not no shit like this. Someone auntie with the arm meat put her foot up in this shit. Seasoned, high cholesterol, clog your fuckin’ arteries good.”
“Arm meat?”
“You know what the fuck I mean. The fuckin’…” He trailed off while lifting his arm and swatting at the underside of his bicep.
As if the cosmos had decided to prove Hasan’s point, one of the restaurant’s employees walked over to the table. No one would’ve considered the older woman a waitress because the restaurant was nowhere near classy enough to have such positions. Cashier might have been a better title, but Devin didn’t feel that quite fit either.
Regardless, she was definitely a bigger woman and did have the “arm meat” that Hasan was referring to.
“You know what you want?” she asked Devin.
Devin gestured to Hasan’s plate. “Yeah, just give me whatever he got.”
The woman nodded and then pointed toward one corner of the dining area. “Drinks over there. Just get whatever you want.”
Devin nodded his thanks as she walked away.
“So how life with all them white people at Tulane treatin’ you, bruh? You decide to join one of them white power frats yet?” Hasan asked, laughing at his own joke. He changed the tone of his voice to one stereotypical of frat boys. “Dude, my dad totally said that I could take the Benz out to Floribama this year for spring break, dude.”
“Last I checked, LSU has more white students than Tulane does. I should be asking you if you’ve decided to become a knight of the Old South or whatever.”
Hasan put the chicken bone in his hand down, wiping his hand on a heavily greased napkin next to his plate. “I’d rather cut my fuckin’ dick off than kick it with those motherfuckas. Besides, unlike yo roommate, Erik a hood nigga lowkey. I done seen that man choose to eat untoasted bread and ham, drinkin’ tap water, when we got an apartment full of food. No mustard, no mayo, nothin’. Bread. Ham. Not exactly white frat types over in A-12.”
“That sounds like it would make me hungrier than I was before I started eating the sandwich,” Devin said.
“So, what’s up, man? Why you got me draggin’ my black ass out to these places I ain’t never been before like yo phone don’t text?”
“I can’t chill with a friend from way back? You letting the rivalry go to your head already?”
“What rivalry?” Hasan asked, laughing. “Tulane ain’t nobody rival. You gotta win somethin’ to be on our level, bruh. Y’all still claimin’ championships from the 90s that nobody agree with, but Boise State because they want to do the same shit.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Y’all even going to a bowl this year? We didn’t lose to Vanderbilt.”
“Now, see, you ain’t have to bring that up. That’s a low blow.”
Devin laughed and held up his hands in feigned defense. “My bad, but you’re the one over there saying there isn’t a rivalry.”
“Probably not this shit ass season anyway,” Hasan said, conceding the point that LSU was currently lower on the “what have you done for me lately” pole. “I ain’t even goin’ to lie to you, my nigga. I’m tired of losin’ every fuckin’ week.”
Devin nodded slowly, being able to relate to being a part of a team that was taking a few too many Ls for the players’ liking. After all, it was only a few years ago that Devin played for a Terrebonne team that was lucky to win two or three games a season. If they hadn’t won the lottery with the Vandebilt players, he probably wouldn’t be at Tulane from that alone.
The restaurant employee returned and slid the plate of chicken and mac and cheese in front of Devin. She also slapped a receipt on the table next to it before walking away without the usual food service courtesies of asking if he needed anything else.
“If we don’t make a bowl, on some real shit, I might enter the portal. It’s a lot of other niggas on the team thinkin’ the same shit so ain’t like I’m goin’ to be the only one,” Hasan said, getting the last bits of chicken off a breast. “Go back home to Florida or some shit, you know?”
“I don’t know about living in Florida, but if you want, you can just slide me y’all’s playbook and schemes and shit for the last week of the season and I can make sure y’all don’t make it to a bowl game.” Devin said, laughing as he tried a bit of the mac and cheese. It wasn’t as good as Hasan said, something he would chalk up to New Orleans having a better cooking scene than Baton Rouge.
“Shit, we might be ‘bout 3-8 by then so I ain’t even worried about y’all.”
“Speaking of transferring, how are you managing your NIL shit? You get an agent or something?”
Hasan shook his head as he wiped his fingers one last time and dropping the napkin on a plate of picked clean bones. “For what? I ain’t got no big deals like talkin’ about. I might’ve got a couple thousand dollars from posting some shit about a club up in Scotlandville. Few hundreds here or there. Bein’ a freshman running back at LSU when you got a whole stable of them niggas ain’t glamorous enough for that NIL money to roll in.”
“I got you. Thought you would’ve been up on one of these billboards all along I-10 by now. Seems like all the athletes at LSU on at least one. From football to golf.”
“Upperclassmen. Except the freshmen gymnastics hoes. Ever since that Livvy Dunne chick came through here back in the ‘20s, they be gassin’ the shit out of them. It’s highkey some pedophile shit if you ask me, but they ain’t askin’ me.”
“I guess it’s a good thing they aren’t asking you then. I don’t think there’s ever been a time in history when the quickest way to make a few dollars wasn’t with a little exposed, barely legal ass cheek,” Devin said before trying the chicken in front of him. Again, it didn’t taste as good as Hasan made it out to be but it’d do. “I asked because I’m just trying to get a feel of how other people are managing their shit. And dealing with all the people in your ear.”
“You got a bitch pregnant or somethin’, nigga?” Hasan asked, laughing. “Just say yes to everythin’ and take the money. Then go get a lawyer and fight that child support. But I know you had it in you to cheat on Carla ass. Unless y’all ain’t together no more.”
“No, I didn’t get anyone pregnant—”
“That you know of.”
“Chill out. I know. I’m still with Carla. Anyway, my grandpa always sending people to me talking about this deal or that deal. That shit is getting exhausting. Half the time, I’ve never even heard of the stuff these people are trying to sell.”
Hasan shrugged. “Your grandpa played ball when you got sentenced to life in prison if you signed a lil’ kid’s football or took a turkey sandwich from a booster. Of course, an OG like that is tryin’ to tell you to get as much money as possible.”
“Yeah, I guess. I don’t even have any big deals to be honest. I’m like you, just a few thousand here or there.”
“When you out here getting’ conference player of the week and shit? That’s why Big Devin in yo’ ear. You wildin’, youngster. He probably disappointed. You tried down, not swimmin’ in no pussy and you ain’t stackin’ no paper? Lord forgive him for he know not what he do.”
Devin could only shrug. The money athletes could get from NIL deals was obviously nice, but he didn’t want the added pressure.
“But since you brought it up earlier, lemme get some of y’all verbiage and shit before the game because y’all can afford to lose one. You niggas definitely ain’t winnin’ a natty,” Hasan said.
“At least we might be there. Y’all will be playing CFB ’53 to get there.”
“You lucky you my boy or I’d dive all cross the top of this table on your ass for how you talkin’ reckless.”
Devin laughed before starting to take care of the plate of chicken and mac and cheese on the table before it got cold.
“C’mon, man! Stop pausin’ the fuckin’ game!”
Caesar ignored Junie’s complaints as he set the controller down in his lap to pick up his phone and respond to a flurry of texts from a few different numbers.
Some of the guys decided to take advantage of their Monday off to head to Tyrone’s apartment and spend the afternoon playing the latest edition of Madden. Despite regular pauses to answer texts, Caesar had been on the sticks for the last six games and the 14-0 score on the screen for the game between him and Junie made it seem like he was going to get a seventh win in a row.
Kendall glanced over Caesar’s shoulder to get a glimpse at the texts and shook his head. “How you getting your ass beat by a dude who over here trying to get some pussy from a bunch of different bitches between throwing bombs on your garbage ass?”
“Didn’t you get skunked in the first quarter, my nigga?” Junie shot back as Caesar finally put his phone down and unpaused the game.
“It’s still the first quarter for you, too,” Caesar said, gesturing to the screen. “And I got the ball.”
“The moral of the story is that we shouldn’t have let a rich nigga get on the game because he probably spent all his childhood getting fed ‘whore deerves’ while wreckin’ probably on video games and shit,” Tyrone said, laughing.
“Or all of y’all got a worse understanding of the game of football than I do which is information that probably shouldn’t leave this room considering all of y’all are upperclassmen and I’m just a little old freshman.”
Caesar, playing with the Oklahoma City Outlaws as he was prone to do when playing Madden, pressed a button on his controller to make the virtual quarterback throw a pass deep down the field. He put the controller down to pick up his phone again as the virtual receiver caught the pass and the AI ran the player into the endzone.
“Say, bruh. You ain’t have to put the controller down before the play was over,” Junie said as he tossed his controller on the floor in front of him before getting up and being replaced in his chair by Tyrone. “All that stuntin’ uncalled for.”
“Don’t get mad over a game, bruh,” Tyrone said, laughing. “We all boys in here. Besides, I don’t know if you know how to squabble and the last thing we need is motherfuckers on the injury report because they got they ass beat over some Madden.”
“I can fight.”
Caesar stood up, handing the controller to Kendall before moving to sit on a sofa. “It’s not all that serious. You just keep running that cover 2 man under like it was 2003 in here. Could’ve at least sent a blitz or two.”
“Yo, T. I thought you saw Darren was coming through? Bro think he too good to kick it with us or something?” Kendall asked as he sat in the chair next to Tyrone and the two of them started scrolling through the teams to pick who they would use.
“I ain’t say that. I said he said he might. I think him and Ramona decided they were go on one of them married couple dates they do every so often. That’s my brother from another mother, but he more pussy whipped than a motherfucker.”
“Just like Caesar then,” Junie said, laughing at his own joke.
“You really mad about getting skunked, huh?” Caesar asked, not looking up from his phone. “It’s okay, man. No one’s going to clown you because you got beat on Madden. Just let that shit go and free your mind. Besides, not a single bitch got me pussy whipped. I’m a free agent.”
“Nigga gonna catch that shit messing with all them white bitches,” Kendall said, nudging Tyrone with his elbow causing them both to laugh.
Shaking his head, Caesar put his phone down on the sofa and got up to head for the door.
“Bro, I know you not leavin’ because we fuckin’ with you,” Tyrone said over his shoulder. “We know you rich enough to have them miracle drugs that keep your dick from turnin’ green and fallin’ off. But while you up, get me somethin’ to drink out the kitchen.”
Caesar ignored them and opened the door, stepping aside to allow a girl to step inside the apartment. She wore a Tulane track hoodie and a pair of joggers. She lowered a pair of headphones from her ears and rested them around her neck.
She looked around Caesar to see the other three guys in the living room.
“You ain’t say it’d be a gang of niggas in here,” she said.
“I didn’t say this was my apartment either and you still came. So, you getting shy on me now?”
“Don’t play with me. Where we going?”
He called Tyrone’s name to get his attention as they’d started the game, and the trash talk was already flowing between Tyrone and Kendall before the game had even loaded up the opening kick off.
“Hey, you still got that empty room back there, right?”
“Yeah, for what?” Tyrone asked back without looking over his shoulder.
“Alright, we’ll be back there,” Caesar said as he waved for the girl to follow him.
Tyrone glanced over his shoulder. “We?”
Junie and Kendall turned around as well, just as Caesar and his guest disappeared down the hall. The three of them looked at one another with a confused look on their faces.
“Wasn’t that fucking Tyesha?” Kendall asked.
“I thought she ain’t fuck dudes,” Junie said.
“Apparently she does,” Tyrone said, shrugging before turning back to the game.
…
An hour later, Caesar and Tyesha emerged from the room and walked into the living area. Kendall had left and had been replaced by Kerby and Darren. They along with Junie and Tyrone were in a heated discussion about a rapper’s new album and whether it was on the level of Drake’s later catalog.
“Don’t be telling me to come to no other motherfucker house no more,” Tyesha said to Caesar as the two of them walked to the door. A little bit of humor could be heard in her words.
“That’s cool. Next time, I’ll just come to your place. How about that?”
“I don’t like no white boys in my apartment,” she said, sucking her teeth.
“Didn’t hear anything about me lacking melanin a minute ago.”
She rolled her eyes. “Bye, Caesar.”
She left the apartment and Caesar went to see on the sofa next to Darren where he’d left his phone. The group stopped talking as he did. He picked it up his phone and started to answer some texts he missed.
“Yo, I thought Tyesha was a lesbian?” Darren asked Tyrone, gesturing with his thumb toward the door. “I swore she used to fuck with that chick Raquel on the basketball team.”
“That’s the same shit I see!” Junie shouted.
“They were probably back there exchangin’ tips on how to eat pussy,” Kerby said.
Caesar shrugged. “If she’s a lesbian then she hasn’t always been one, because she gives some fire ass head.”
“That boy sick,” Tyrone said, laughing.
“Darren, you drove over here?” Caesar asked, putting his phone in his pocket and standing up.”
“Yeah, why?”
“Can you bring me to the Tri Delta’s house? I’m not trying to walk all the way across campus to get my car and drive myself.”
“Nigga, didn’t you just get some pussy?” Tyrone asked. “Like not even just as in earlier today, likely literally just pulled your dick out of some chick? Dick probably still smell like nut and pussy.”
Caesar raised an eyebrow, not expecting Tyrone to be the one to be the voice of reason as that task usually fell to Darren. He shook his head and ignored the question, turning back to Darren.
“So, can you bring me?”
Darren shrugged and sighed before pushing himself to his feet. “You’re going to owe me charging money because I’m not an Uber for any other than me to be going get any pussy.”
“I got you,” Caesar said, taking his phone out of his pocket and quickly sending $50 to Darren for the cost of charging his car – much more than the ten minute trip would cost.
“You gonna be tired as a bitch doin’ all that fuckin’, bruh. Don’t forget that we playin’ Bama this week. We blamin’ you and your dick if we lose,” Tyrone said as Darren and Caesar left the apartment.
Devin swung his car into an empty parking space outside of a diner that looked like it had seen better days thirty years ago. But there in the rural expanse of Louisiana’s “Saints” parishes along I-10 between Baton Rouge and New Orleans, small restaurants like the one before him had been open long before he was alive and would be open long after he was gone.
A couple of truckers held the door open for him as he stepped inside the building, plates of food in hand as they prepared to continue on their way to some other part of the country to transport goods. Devin nodded his thanks as he scanned the rows of cheap tables and chairs from a bygone era.
Hasan sat along the far wall, tearing into a plate of fried chicken. He had a leg in one hand and a fork in the other to scrap up what looks to be macaroni and cheese. He didn’t look up from the plate until Devin sat down across from him.
“You fucking that up, huh?” Devin asked. He reached out to grab the menu from under the plate and Hasan moved his arms to block the plate causing Devin to laugh. “Chill out, bruh. No one taking it from you. Do they not feed y’all in Baton Rouge?”
Hasan waved off the comment and took another bite from the chicken leg, talking with his mouth full. “They do, but not no shit like this. Someone auntie with the arm meat put her foot up in this shit. Seasoned, high cholesterol, clog your fuckin’ arteries good.”
“Arm meat?”
“You know what the fuck I mean. The fuckin’…” He trailed off while lifting his arm and swatting at the underside of his bicep.
As if the cosmos had decided to prove Hasan’s point, one of the restaurant’s employees walked over to the table. No one would’ve considered the older woman a waitress because the restaurant was nowhere near classy enough to have such positions. Cashier might have been a better title, but Devin didn’t feel that quite fit either.
Regardless, she was definitely a bigger woman and did have the “arm meat” that Hasan was referring to.
“You know what you want?” she asked Devin.
Devin gestured to Hasan’s plate. “Yeah, just give me whatever he got.”
The woman nodded and then pointed toward one corner of the dining area. “Drinks over there. Just get whatever you want.”
Devin nodded his thanks as she walked away.
“So how life with all them white people at Tulane treatin’ you, bruh? You decide to join one of them white power frats yet?” Hasan asked, laughing at his own joke. He changed the tone of his voice to one stereotypical of frat boys. “Dude, my dad totally said that I could take the Benz out to Floribama this year for spring break, dude.”
“Last I checked, LSU has more white students than Tulane does. I should be asking you if you’ve decided to become a knight of the Old South or whatever.”
Hasan put the chicken bone in his hand down, wiping his hand on a heavily greased napkin next to his plate. “I’d rather cut my fuckin’ dick off than kick it with those motherfuckas. Besides, unlike yo roommate, Erik a hood nigga lowkey. I done seen that man choose to eat untoasted bread and ham, drinkin’ tap water, when we got an apartment full of food. No mustard, no mayo, nothin’. Bread. Ham. Not exactly white frat types over in A-12.”
“That sounds like it would make me hungrier than I was before I started eating the sandwich,” Devin said.
“So, what’s up, man? Why you got me draggin’ my black ass out to these places I ain’t never been before like yo phone don’t text?”
“I can’t chill with a friend from way back? You letting the rivalry go to your head already?”
“What rivalry?” Hasan asked, laughing. “Tulane ain’t nobody rival. You gotta win somethin’ to be on our level, bruh. Y’all still claimin’ championships from the 90s that nobody agree with, but Boise State because they want to do the same shit.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Y’all even going to a bowl this year? We didn’t lose to Vanderbilt.”
“Now, see, you ain’t have to bring that up. That’s a low blow.”
Devin laughed and held up his hands in feigned defense. “My bad, but you’re the one over there saying there isn’t a rivalry.”
“Probably not this shit ass season anyway,” Hasan said, conceding the point that LSU was currently lower on the “what have you done for me lately” pole. “I ain’t even goin’ to lie to you, my nigga. I’m tired of losin’ every fuckin’ week.”
Devin nodded slowly, being able to relate to being a part of a team that was taking a few too many Ls for the players’ liking. After all, it was only a few years ago that Devin played for a Terrebonne team that was lucky to win two or three games a season. If they hadn’t won the lottery with the Vandebilt players, he probably wouldn’t be at Tulane from that alone.
The restaurant employee returned and slid the plate of chicken and mac and cheese in front of Devin. She also slapped a receipt on the table next to it before walking away without the usual food service courtesies of asking if he needed anything else.
“If we don’t make a bowl, on some real shit, I might enter the portal. It’s a lot of other niggas on the team thinkin’ the same shit so ain’t like I’m goin’ to be the only one,” Hasan said, getting the last bits of chicken off a breast. “Go back home to Florida or some shit, you know?”
“I don’t know about living in Florida, but if you want, you can just slide me y’all’s playbook and schemes and shit for the last week of the season and I can make sure y’all don’t make it to a bowl game.” Devin said, laughing as he tried a bit of the mac and cheese. It wasn’t as good as Hasan said, something he would chalk up to New Orleans having a better cooking scene than Baton Rouge.
“Shit, we might be ‘bout 3-8 by then so I ain’t even worried about y’all.”
“Speaking of transferring, how are you managing your NIL shit? You get an agent or something?”
Hasan shook his head as he wiped his fingers one last time and dropping the napkin on a plate of picked clean bones. “For what? I ain’t got no big deals like talkin’ about. I might’ve got a couple thousand dollars from posting some shit about a club up in Scotlandville. Few hundreds here or there. Bein’ a freshman running back at LSU when you got a whole stable of them niggas ain’t glamorous enough for that NIL money to roll in.”
“I got you. Thought you would’ve been up on one of these billboards all along I-10 by now. Seems like all the athletes at LSU on at least one. From football to golf.”
“Upperclassmen. Except the freshmen gymnastics hoes. Ever since that Livvy Dunne chick came through here back in the ‘20s, they be gassin’ the shit out of them. It’s highkey some pedophile shit if you ask me, but they ain’t askin’ me.”
“I guess it’s a good thing they aren’t asking you then. I don’t think there’s ever been a time in history when the quickest way to make a few dollars wasn’t with a little exposed, barely legal ass cheek,” Devin said before trying the chicken in front of him. Again, it didn’t taste as good as Hasan made it out to be but it’d do. “I asked because I’m just trying to get a feel of how other people are managing their shit. And dealing with all the people in your ear.”
“You got a bitch pregnant or somethin’, nigga?” Hasan asked, laughing. “Just say yes to everythin’ and take the money. Then go get a lawyer and fight that child support. But I know you had it in you to cheat on Carla ass. Unless y’all ain’t together no more.”
“No, I didn’t get anyone pregnant—”
“That you know of.”
“Chill out. I know. I’m still with Carla. Anyway, my grandpa always sending people to me talking about this deal or that deal. That shit is getting exhausting. Half the time, I’ve never even heard of the stuff these people are trying to sell.”
Hasan shrugged. “Your grandpa played ball when you got sentenced to life in prison if you signed a lil’ kid’s football or took a turkey sandwich from a booster. Of course, an OG like that is tryin’ to tell you to get as much money as possible.”
“Yeah, I guess. I don’t even have any big deals to be honest. I’m like you, just a few thousand here or there.”
“When you out here getting’ conference player of the week and shit? That’s why Big Devin in yo’ ear. You wildin’, youngster. He probably disappointed. You tried down, not swimmin’ in no pussy and you ain’t stackin’ no paper? Lord forgive him for he know not what he do.”
Devin could only shrug. The money athletes could get from NIL deals was obviously nice, but he didn’t want the added pressure.
“But since you brought it up earlier, lemme get some of y’all verbiage and shit before the game because y’all can afford to lose one. You niggas definitely ain’t winnin’ a natty,” Hasan said.
“At least we might be there. Y’all will be playing CFB ’53 to get there.”
“You lucky you my boy or I’d dive all cross the top of this table on your ass for how you talkin’ reckless.”
Devin laughed before starting to take care of the plate of chicken and mac and cheese on the table before it got cold.
-*****-
“C’mon, man! Stop pausin’ the fuckin’ game!”
Caesar ignored Junie’s complaints as he set the controller down in his lap to pick up his phone and respond to a flurry of texts from a few different numbers.
Some of the guys decided to take advantage of their Monday off to head to Tyrone’s apartment and spend the afternoon playing the latest edition of Madden. Despite regular pauses to answer texts, Caesar had been on the sticks for the last six games and the 14-0 score on the screen for the game between him and Junie made it seem like he was going to get a seventh win in a row.
Kendall glanced over Caesar’s shoulder to get a glimpse at the texts and shook his head. “How you getting your ass beat by a dude who over here trying to get some pussy from a bunch of different bitches between throwing bombs on your garbage ass?”
“Didn’t you get skunked in the first quarter, my nigga?” Junie shot back as Caesar finally put his phone down and unpaused the game.
“It’s still the first quarter for you, too,” Caesar said, gesturing to the screen. “And I got the ball.”
“The moral of the story is that we shouldn’t have let a rich nigga get on the game because he probably spent all his childhood getting fed ‘whore deerves’ while wreckin’ probably on video games and shit,” Tyrone said, laughing.
“Or all of y’all got a worse understanding of the game of football than I do which is information that probably shouldn’t leave this room considering all of y’all are upperclassmen and I’m just a little old freshman.”
Caesar, playing with the Oklahoma City Outlaws as he was prone to do when playing Madden, pressed a button on his controller to make the virtual quarterback throw a pass deep down the field. He put the controller down to pick up his phone again as the virtual receiver caught the pass and the AI ran the player into the endzone.
“Say, bruh. You ain’t have to put the controller down before the play was over,” Junie said as he tossed his controller on the floor in front of him before getting up and being replaced in his chair by Tyrone. “All that stuntin’ uncalled for.”
“Don’t get mad over a game, bruh,” Tyrone said, laughing. “We all boys in here. Besides, I don’t know if you know how to squabble and the last thing we need is motherfuckers on the injury report because they got they ass beat over some Madden.”
“I can fight.”
Caesar stood up, handing the controller to Kendall before moving to sit on a sofa. “It’s not all that serious. You just keep running that cover 2 man under like it was 2003 in here. Could’ve at least sent a blitz or two.”
“Yo, T. I thought you saw Darren was coming through? Bro think he too good to kick it with us or something?” Kendall asked as he sat in the chair next to Tyrone and the two of them started scrolling through the teams to pick who they would use.
“I ain’t say that. I said he said he might. I think him and Ramona decided they were go on one of them married couple dates they do every so often. That’s my brother from another mother, but he more pussy whipped than a motherfucker.”
“Just like Caesar then,” Junie said, laughing at his own joke.
“You really mad about getting skunked, huh?” Caesar asked, not looking up from his phone. “It’s okay, man. No one’s going to clown you because you got beat on Madden. Just let that shit go and free your mind. Besides, not a single bitch got me pussy whipped. I’m a free agent.”
“Nigga gonna catch that shit messing with all them white bitches,” Kendall said, nudging Tyrone with his elbow causing them both to laugh.
Shaking his head, Caesar put his phone down on the sofa and got up to head for the door.
“Bro, I know you not leavin’ because we fuckin’ with you,” Tyrone said over his shoulder. “We know you rich enough to have them miracle drugs that keep your dick from turnin’ green and fallin’ off. But while you up, get me somethin’ to drink out the kitchen.”
Caesar ignored them and opened the door, stepping aside to allow a girl to step inside the apartment. She wore a Tulane track hoodie and a pair of joggers. She lowered a pair of headphones from her ears and rested them around her neck.
She looked around Caesar to see the other three guys in the living room.
“You ain’t say it’d be a gang of niggas in here,” she said.
“I didn’t say this was my apartment either and you still came. So, you getting shy on me now?”
“Don’t play with me. Where we going?”
He called Tyrone’s name to get his attention as they’d started the game, and the trash talk was already flowing between Tyrone and Kendall before the game had even loaded up the opening kick off.
“Hey, you still got that empty room back there, right?”
“Yeah, for what?” Tyrone asked back without looking over his shoulder.
“Alright, we’ll be back there,” Caesar said as he waved for the girl to follow him.
Tyrone glanced over his shoulder. “We?”
Junie and Kendall turned around as well, just as Caesar and his guest disappeared down the hall. The three of them looked at one another with a confused look on their faces.
“Wasn’t that fucking Tyesha?” Kendall asked.
“I thought she ain’t fuck dudes,” Junie said.
“Apparently she does,” Tyrone said, shrugging before turning back to the game.
…
An hour later, Caesar and Tyesha emerged from the room and walked into the living area. Kendall had left and had been replaced by Kerby and Darren. They along with Junie and Tyrone were in a heated discussion about a rapper’s new album and whether it was on the level of Drake’s later catalog.
“Don’t be telling me to come to no other motherfucker house no more,” Tyesha said to Caesar as the two of them walked to the door. A little bit of humor could be heard in her words.
“That’s cool. Next time, I’ll just come to your place. How about that?”
“I don’t like no white boys in my apartment,” she said, sucking her teeth.
“Didn’t hear anything about me lacking melanin a minute ago.”
She rolled her eyes. “Bye, Caesar.”
She left the apartment and Caesar went to see on the sofa next to Darren where he’d left his phone. The group stopped talking as he did. He picked it up his phone and started to answer some texts he missed.
“Yo, I thought Tyesha was a lesbian?” Darren asked Tyrone, gesturing with his thumb toward the door. “I swore she used to fuck with that chick Raquel on the basketball team.”
“That’s the same shit I see!” Junie shouted.
“They were probably back there exchangin’ tips on how to eat pussy,” Kerby said.
Caesar shrugged. “If she’s a lesbian then she hasn’t always been one, because she gives some fire ass head.”
“That boy sick,” Tyrone said, laughing.
“Darren, you drove over here?” Caesar asked, putting his phone in his pocket and standing up.”
“Yeah, why?”
“Can you bring me to the Tri Delta’s house? I’m not trying to walk all the way across campus to get my car and drive myself.”
“Nigga, didn’t you just get some pussy?” Tyrone asked. “Like not even just as in earlier today, likely literally just pulled your dick out of some chick? Dick probably still smell like nut and pussy.”
Caesar raised an eyebrow, not expecting Tyrone to be the one to be the voice of reason as that task usually fell to Darren. He shook his head and ignored the question, turning back to Darren.
“So, can you bring me?”
Darren shrugged and sighed before pushing himself to his feet. “You’re going to owe me charging money because I’m not an Uber for any other than me to be going get any pussy.”
“I got you,” Caesar said, taking his phone out of his pocket and quickly sending $50 to Darren for the cost of charging his car – much more than the ten minute trip would cost.
“You gonna be tired as a bitch doin’ all that fuckin’, bruh. Don’t forget that we playin’ Bama this week. We blamin’ you and your dick if we lose,” Tyrone said as Darren and Caesar left the apartment.
-
Captain Canada
- Posts: 2197
- Joined: 01 Dec 2018, 00:15
War of the Roses: Redux Edition
This man Caesar really an animal, goddamn.