Tyrese Samuel's interception against Jeremiah Byrd—his second of the game, to be exact—was an incredible highlight. One of those plays were it seemed the person in it had somehow unlocked the ability to double jump in real life.
Of course, in those plays there were always underlying circumstances which led to such an event. Still, it was impressive to manufacture such a possibility for oneself in a real game.
Kentavious Rice Junior shut his phone off, staring at his reflection for a moment before his gaze drifted out of the window. The limousine, for all its luxury, was stuffy. Thankfully, AT&T Stadium—Jerry World—and the freedom its field offered, was in view.
So Tyrese Samuels would be the one who would meet him on that field in a week's time. Good. It would be an important game for them both—for Tyrese, it could be the game that proved he was more than a highlight reel, more than a commodity for how he overcome his lack of height; for himself, it was the chance to find another soul at the mountaintop, and end his lonely quest.
'What is your objective today, Junior?' Kentavious Senior asked, his voice as rich as the whisky filling his glass.
Junior didn't meet those piercing eyes. His shoulders heaved with a full-bodied sigh. 'The same as it always is, Father—embarrass the opposition, establish my dominance among my competition.'
'How will you accomplish such today?'
'Adonis Varly is strong, but not strong enough. I'll bully him on the field to show the world I am already a man, and those who stand before me are nothing but overgrown boys in comparison.
'Adonis Varly is fast, but not fast enough. I'll leave him behind to show the world I am untouchable, and those who stand before me move as if flailing through water in comparison.
'Adonis Varly is skilled, but not skilled enough. I'll dance circles around him to show the world I am unmatched, and those who stand before me are bumbling fools in comparison.'
The car rolled to a stop just behind the team bus. Outside, a sea of reporters still waited, flashing cameras failing to penetrate the tinted windows. Junior focused on the open doors leading into the building, the halls that would take him to the locker room, and eventually onto the field where he could be free for sixty minutes.
'That was a fine speech, Junior,' Senior said. 'Well rehearsed. However, I'm not convinced your focus is in the right place. It's good you know what the real test will be, but you can't overlook what's in front of you. Even a perfect team has stumbled over a lucky pebble and lost it all at the finish line. DON'T make that mistake today.'
Senior stepped out of the limo, drawing much of the attention away. Junior wiped the frown from his face before following suit. He stood still for a moment, composing himself, allowing for the cameras to snap a few shots as he'd been taught to do, then continued on into the building. Whatever questions they shouted at him was nothing more than a jumbled mess of noise.
He wasn't overlooking his opponent for today. Adonis Varly was good. If not for the charismatic personality and explosive plays Tyrese Samuels had, Adonis might've been ranked number one instead. Truly, he wouldn't know which of them were the better player until he'd gone against them both on the gridiron. Either way, it didn't matter, neither were strong enough to match him.
"The mountaintop is the loneliest place in the world. The stars are my only company."
###
A rhythmic thumping penetrated the music filling the Red Elephants' locker room. Adonis Varly was the only player not vibing to Future's catchy lyrics and smooth flow. He was in the back of the room, standing before a bare patch of wall, throwing a tennis ball off it with one hand, whilst the other was occupied dribbling another tennis ball.
By his side, stood Coach Luger. Luger was a tall man, but one that was wide enough to appear stout, with shoulders almost as big as someone's head. A retired bodybuilder, he was still in exceptional shape, though the strain of such an impressive physique left him looking more aged than he truly was—he had a face like melting wax, and a voice like audio rust.
'The whole world's against you, Adonis,' Coach Luger said. 'EVERYONE is overlooking you, disrespecting you.'
Luger jostled Adonis, trying to knock him off balance. Adonis hunkered down, standing strong as he kept his rhythm, not pausing or slowing either hand even when Coach Luger obstructed his vision, waving a hand in front of his face. Adonis's focus never faltered.
'Nobody's talking about you. All they can talk about is that freshman boy from California. The Dons only won just this morning, yet everyone's dreaming about what a great matchup the championship game will be between them and the Longhorns. Samuels versus Rice. That's all they want. Nobody's talking about Adonis Varly. They haven't witnessed perfection on the gridiron before. Can you show them?'
He finished his speech with a shove, but Adonis bounced back, snatching one ball from the air, and continuing his dribble with the other.
'I don't care what they think!' He grit his teeth, pushing himself faster. It was true; why should he care what anyone else thought? The only thing that mattered was what happened on the gridiron. That was the only way to reveal who was truly the best.
But more than that, showing off for the fans did nothing. As a defender, if most of the fans were enjoying the show, that usually meant you were doing something wrong.
The casual audience didn't care about the game of chess played between offence and defence, they just wanted to see touchdowns, trick plays, contested catches, and high-scoring games. If both teams scored forty plus it was seen as one of the best games ever, but if the game ended 3–0 with a game-winning field goal it was a travesty and an affront to the sport. Even sacks and interceptions didn't thrill them as much as seeing a one-handed catch, or someone getting "Mossed".
If they wanted to see a flashy showdown between the supposed number ones, or a fifty-point shootout it was Adonis's job to disappoint them. He'd lock up Kentavious Rice, prove he was the real number one Cornerback, and rip the fans' hearts out in the process.
After that, it'd be onto the championship game, where he could have a showdown with Tyrese Samuels, the pretender. Ty was good, but not number one good, and Adonis would prove that too with a sudden death shutout. The championship game might even go into overtime as 0–0. Whichever defence cracked first would be the defence that lost.
Adonis caught both balls when Coach Luger shoved him again. He pushed back, standing tall. Luger measured him; the following nod proclaimed him worthy.
'Let's get out there and show them all what they've been missing,' Coach Luger said. He clapped his hands, and the music was soon switched off as the Head Coach drew everyone's attention.
It wasn't long after that the team was rumbling out of the room and down the tunnel, their mission firmly in the forefront of all their minds. The Longhorns would hear their stamping feet and trumpeting cry. They would learn to fear both for the doom they heralded, and the Texans watching would despair upon hearing the same stampede and war cry. Such was the Red Elephants' way.
###
The Longhorns were eager. Heavy beats underlined by Drake's vocals spilled out of their locker room, as did the smell of testosterone and duelling deodorants like experimental chemical warfare.
Kentavious Rice Junior sat calmly, as most of the team hyped each other up, slapping shoulders, chests, sometimes even faces. Others clacked helmets and pads, bumping together as they jumped around, fuelling each other's adrenaline. It was important to start strong, and the best way to do that was to be at max energy, as Coach Bourne said.
Most of the team ignored Kentavious. He didn't think they hated him, but they definitely didn't like him. Senior said it didn't matter. If they were jealous, they'd push themselves harder to beat him, and practising against CBs who despised you was better than those who considered you friends. It was more realistic.
That was how, even in this locker room, surrounded by his teammates, Kentavious remained alone. "The mountaintop is lonely," he reminded himself.
The only relationship Senior said mattered for a WR was with their QB. You needed good chemistry with them if you were to get the best out of your abilities. Of course, a true WR was expected to work with shitty QBs and catch every ball no matter how bad the pass was, but it was simply easier, and more revealing of your true abilities if you worked with someone on the same page, if not the same level, as you.
Herb Morrison was that QB. He thumped into the seat beside Kentavious, hands behind his head, an easy smile on his tanned face as he asked: 'How much we going for, today, KJ?'
'As many as gets the job done,' Kentavious responded.
'Sheeesh. What's that then, another fifty-bomb? 'Cause there's winning, then there's getting the job done, right? And if I know you, you're thinking about sending a message to whoever's facing us next.'
'The Dons.'
'Goddamn. Ain't they the ones who started that brawl way back when? You think they'll fight us on the field.'
'I hope it'll be a fight.'
'Hahaha, you're crazy, KJ. I'll jump in even if you start something, but imma give you hell for it afterwards, you know that?'
Kentavious bent forward, double-checking his laces; it'd be time to begin soon. Morrison wasn't a bad guy. He was easygoing enough Kentavious could believe they were actually friends, and it wasn't just a case of Senior paying Morrison off to "play nice".
Morrison had an unassuming look. With an average build, he didn't look that athletic, and with his spaced out eyes, ratty brown mullet, and fuzzy moustache, he didn't look very bright either. However, he was more impressive than he looked in both facets; he had an arm on him like a rocket, and an ability to read defences as fast as anybody. Maybe they had a stronger connection because they were both juniors, though with Morrison that simply meant it was his third year—first starting—in high school.
'Go out there, and show 'em what happens when you mess with the bull!' Coach Bourne said.
'Oo, that's our cue, KJ,' Morrison said, jumping up and slamming his helmet on.
Kentavious rose, keeping his helmet in hand as he led the way out of the room; the rest of the team knew to wait for him.
He jogged through the tunnel and onto the field, stepping into the bright lights and sharp shrieks. Every time it was like stepping out into a different world; a world where everything made sense—where he finally belonged.
The Red Elephants were already waiting for them, warming up casually, most leaving their helmets on the bench or just beside their lineups.
Adonis Varly was easy to pick out of the crowd. His long silver locs drew the eye, but more than that, he was just perfect. If every football coach was asked to build a prospect, Adonis Varly would be the figure they created.
Was that his true rival standing across the field, Kentavious wondered. Not to take anything away from Tyrese Samuels, but now that he was standing on the same field as Adonis, there was something electric about him.
"I have to be careful today."
After a quick warmup, the captains were soon meeting for the coin toss. Morrison was by Kentavious's side, as well as Jimmy London, a Senior Free Safety, and lynch pin of the Longhorns' defence. Despite his mohawk, and his mean, ugly mug, Jimmy was all business. The smallest of the assembled captains, his powerful quads and shoulders made up for whatever size he lacked.
The Longhorns expected the game to be low-scoring as the Red Elephants were a more defensive-oriented team, but Jimmy was still alert and focused. Getting lax could turn the game into a shootout they might not win if their best weapon was neutralised.
Flanking Adonis Varly were two of the larger Elephants. One being another Safety, though he also doubled as a WR, and a fine one at that. Marlon Wade ranked in most people's top five WRs in high school, and he was still only a sophomore. Unfortunately, he was looking across at the number one, who was but a freshman.
Marlon had the height, though he'd yet to grow into his body, which was probably what had kept him from making the All-American team. His envy was all over his large, smooshed face. A tail of braids was bunched at the back of his neck.
On Adonis's other shoulder was Ian Garrick, a dominant shit-wrecker of a DE. The senior was one of the best pass-rushers in the nation, and a bit of an unsung hero for why the Red Elephants were so effective at nullifying their opponent's passing. His head looked too small for his bulky body which was a lot harder than it looked.
As the two trios stood opposite one another, and the head official explained Gainesville would get to call the toss, the tension was palpable. None of the boys said a word to the other.
Tails was the call, and tails was what the coin showed. The Elephants deferred, but even after the Longhorns selected their end, neither side moved away. The moment was too important. There was still something Kentavious wanted to learn about his opponents.
He stepped across the gap, and offered a hand to Adonis, adding another layer of tension to the atmosphere as Adonis regarded him. Those eyes were determined, just as his last opponent's had been. Good; the tournament had done its job.
Adonis took his hand, shaking it firmly, their eyes remaining locked.
'May the best man win,' Kentavious said, knowing he would.
'I will,' Adonis responded, bringing a smile to Kentavious's face. This match would be a good test. After defeating Adonis, he'd be ready for anything Tyrese and the Dons could throw at him.