Coach Hoang, concern etching his face, watched the pair retreat to the sideline, helmets together, JJ with his arm around Ty's shoulders. He knew the Shamrocks' offence would be tough to stop, though he'd hoped his players would've surprised him, as they'd done repeatedly throughout the season. Alas, it was only after the scoreboard ticked over to 0–7, after a successful extra point, that he realised how much shit they were in.
The two plays, both with Sonny helping Deshaun, then Zayden helping Ty, proved simply doubling the biggest targets would do little to hinder the Shamrocks. The problem was the Receivers were just going over the top, and they'd do so whether doubled or not. But there had to be something there … not a simple double team, but still a plan that required the Safeties pitching in.
'Keep your heads up,' he told the returning defenders. 'You did fine. That's on me, our game plan was bad. We'll turn it around next time. There's a silver lining to everything, and that drive told us a lot of important information; they won't score again on the next one, I promise.'
He turned back to the field. If the offence could eliminate the deficit, and keep the game close, maybe even frustrate the Shamrocks a little, that'd give his plan an even higher chance of success.
The Dons' support was already wavering, though those who'd made the trek from Westfield and Indiana, were only growing louder and more confident. They led the warcry as the Kicker charged in and put boot to ball. Chris waited, ready to return it.
Again, he felt like he had so much space to work with. Seeing the long-limbs better, he darted through and under them more efficiently, bringing the ball out to the Dons' 29 before he was tripped up.
Stephen jumped out of his seat, leading the march for the Dons' offence. He was determined to right wrongs and get the better of Braid Bitch, finding Deshaun's nickname a perfect descriptor. The Dons' coaches thought that was their best chance of striking back against the Shamrocks as well.
At the snap, Jay took the ball, spinning towards Chris, extending an empty hand to him. Play-Action. Whirling back around, the defence wasn't scrambling much at all. They hadn't bitten, and Stephen's Corner route was well covered, but Jay had to try, had to push the boundaries. He lobbed the ball over.
Stephen and Braid Bitch jostled for position, leaning against one another as they ran ever nearer to the sideline. Stephen lunged, falling out of bounds; he had already stepped out before getting hands to the ball. Though he reeled the ball in, the pass was deemed incomplete.
'Nowhere to go, boy,' Braid Bitch said, 'you're getting locked down today!'
Stephen tossed the ball to an official, shaking his head at Braid Bitch. 'You won't be so lucky next time,' he warned before the two parted.
The Dons' regrouped, both Jay and Stephen apologising, laying the blame for the incompletion on themselves. If Jay's pass was better, Stephen could've stayed inbounds; Stephen argued Jay's pass was placed in the only spot he could've reached, if he wanted to catch it inbounds, he needed to lose Braid Bitch.
Despite the failure on, the Dons' spirits stayed high. They fired back with a Draw, catching the Shamrocks—namely Jordy—off guard. Christ darted ahead, but only far enough to gain 4 yards, which still left them in a hole on third-and-six. They'd have to go to the air to dig themselves out.
Presnap, Jay scanned the field, sighing. It looked hopeless against the tall wall the Shamrocks made. But if anyone could find gaps in that wall, it was his teammates.
He took the snap, backpedalling, eyes darting around. Stephen was covered on a deep Curl. Similarly, Benny's Out was matched, as was Amon's Slant … but Cole's shallow Drag across the field was leading towards open field underneath Stephen. Jay flicked the ball over.
When Cole caught the pass, Stephen whipped around, laying into Braid Bitch and driving him clear of the field. Cole turned up, sprinting along the sideline, scrambling past the marker just before he was driven out, pushed into the back of Stephen and Braid Bitch's prolonged struggle.
The Dons had their first down, they had life. With it, the crowd was rejuvenated, their loudest support coming from their own bench; another few plays like that and the tide would turn.
The Dons looked to capitalise on their momentum with another run, sending Chris to the outside with an Off-Tackle burst around the strong-side edge. However, the Shamrocks' long arms proved troublesome, blocking his path. They trapped him, forcing him between Guard and Tackle, where he was smothered for no gain at all.
The Dons' Linemen helped Chris up, pulling him from the mess of bodies, apologising for not opening a hole for him. He met their apologetic, creased faces with a smile, slapping them on the back one after the other. There was nothing to be sorry about, he should've been faster is all.
Running looked harder than expected, if not for the Shamrocks, certainly for the Dons. It was early in the game yet, but it still looked as if aerial superiority would decide the outcome.
On second down, Jay dropped back to pass. Cole had found another opening, this time with a Slant, and Jay fired the ball over the middle. A hand sprouted up from the line, knocking the ball aside, and Jay cursed himself, banging on his own helmet; how many times did he need to make the same mistake to learn such a simple lesson?
Within a minute, the Dons were back to third down, staring down a 10-yard long barrel. Jay found himself looking Stephen's way. He'd been held down so far, but if there was ever a time for him to get into the game, it was then.
Stephen glared across at Braid Bitch, each play he wasn't involved in frustrated him further. His rising anger wasn't helped by the fact he couldn't glare DOWN at an opponent for once. He'd never realised just how much he'd enjoyed that until it was taken away from him this game.
The ball was snapped, and Stephen and Braid Bitch collided right out of the gates. They felt so evenly matched, their strength as equal as their height. Stephen pushed through, eventually slipping past Braid Bitch, and then the race was on.
As the play developed, Jay kept vigilant. Even now the Shamrocks weren't blitzing, but that didn't mean they didn't try to collapse the pocket. Chris remained in the backfield, helping sure up the protection.
The only short route offered was Amon's Drag, though the Shamrocks had learnt their lesson there. Cole didn't have enough space on his Vertical, and a jump ball there seemed much too risky. So it was Benny's Post that led the way for Stephen's identical route, drawing the attention of the lax Safety coverage over the middle, clearing a path for Stephen.
Stephen cut inside, seeing how the Safety was pulled in by Benny's earlier cut. Stephen and Braid Bitch were near equals, but it was during his cut Stephen realised they were anything but. Braid Bitch had the edge in speed, slight as it was, in such an otherwise stalemated matchup, any advantage was huge, especially when it meant Braid Bitch was free to take whatever path of attack he wanted, when the ball inevitably came their way.
It was lobbed well over the outstretched hands of the D-Line, floating towards Stephen and Braid Bitch, the latter of which stretched out into a lead, reaching to be the first to claim the ball. Stephen had to play defence, diving to disrupt Braid Bitch's catch, preventing an interception, but not the incompletion.
The Dons had fallen again, and their punting unit was soon on the field. Faint boos came from the small but growing portion of Westfield fans as the Dons' offence made their way off the field.
The Shamrocks' defence were welcomed more triumphantly to their bench. The loudest of their supporters, and the one who gave them all a high-five as they filtered past, was their Head Coach, Wendell Bean.
Coach Bean was shorter than all of the Shamrocks' players, a squat, and rotund, but commanding figure; there was old muscle hidden away underneath the initial layers of fat. His black hair was specked with grey, short all around, but spiked at the front. Thick sports goggles sat heavily on the bridge of his crooked nose, attached to a thick string that dangled around his neck.
'Good work, fellas,' he said, 'way to keep control out there. We've got them right where we want them thanks to you.' It was key to remind them they were in control of the game, thanks in large part to their defensive efforts.
During the punt, Braid Bitch and Jordy both got chances to rest on the bench. Their breaks were deserved, but quick, and both were the last to leave the bench after Shannon's short return was stopped at their own 26-yard line.
Bella had noticed the Shamrocks' coaching staff fawning over their two-way players on the sideline. Drinks, spit buckets, towels, the Lineman had even got a quick shoulder rub whilst he sat. Such care for them … yet they NEEDED such upkeep. Perhaps that was a weakness which could be exploited.
Before the Dons' defence could return to the field, Coach Hoang had a message for Deshaun, Amon, and Ty. 'We need to be more physical. I know you might be intimidated, and you might think its best to stay out of their reach, but its the opposite. We need to get in tight, and stay there. They're big, but they don't play like it, you understand? They don't know how to use their size to their advantage, so we have to play like we're the bigger dogs here. Don't foul them, but don't let them push you around. As long as you don't grab them, you can push them off their line and hold your ground. The most important thing is that you put a body on them, and don't let them get a clean jump at the ball.'
They listened, Ty with narrowed eyes, but open ears. At least he didn't interrupt, though it was clear he was trying to figure out the deeper meaning of Coach Hoang's plan from just his slice of information amongst the greater machine.
Once those orders were given, Coach Hoang moved over to Sonny and Zayden, pulling them aside. 'Keep a closer eye on Samuels and Banks. I need you both moving your zones over to the right. You'll see openings, just wait for the right opportunity. Trust your instincts, and strike when the time is right.'
Zayden and Sonny both nodded, taking the instructions on board. It was vaguer than Zayden would've liked, but he had to trust in Coach Hoang. He was sure it was a scenario where the moment he saw what the "right opportunity" was, he'd know it.
JJ led the way back into the coliseum, facing his hermanos as he addressed them. 'As long as we stay calm and in control of ourselves, we control the game. Don't let them rile you up, just play your game, and the good times will come.'
Ty glared past him, watching Stringbean take the field. If only they'd met during any game that wasn't so important, one where their fate didn't hang in the balance. He would've given everything, a suspension ten games long even, to be able to smash that stupid, giant racist in his trash mouth, and make him choke on all his teeth.
Stringbean sauntered up to Ty, grinning wider. 'You shouldn't be looking at me like that, boy. You're gonna regret it.'
Ty chewed on his mouthpiece, staying quiet, and kept glaring, eyes narrowed to black daggers.
The ball was snapped, and Stringbean lunged forward, but Ty danced out of his reach. The ball was kept on the ground, handed off to Shannon who darted up the middle. JJ still had the middle of the field on lockdown when it came to run defence, further frustrating Jordy and Shannon alike as he shouldered past Jordy's block and took out Shannon's legs, stopping the run after a gain of 2.
As the teams reset, and took their formations opposite one another again, cries of "dee-fence" sprinkled the field, though not many had their hearts behind the words, merely saying them because it was proper, and what one did in such situations.
On second-and-eight, the Shamrocks looked to the sky. Trevor dropped back calmly, tracking Braid Bitch who made a sharp cut across the middle on an In 10 yards downfield. He fired a high pass over.
Deshaun, following Coach Hoang's instruction, stuck close to Braid Bitch, and when the ball came towards them, he stepped in front, holding his ground as he stretched up for it. He couldn't reach it, but when Braid Bitch reached up, he could only get a single hand to it, bobbling the pass, which gave Sonny just enough time to dart in and break up the second grab, knocking the ball loose.
The Dons had forced an incompletion, finally. Cheers, surprised and even a little confused, came from the crowd, reigniting into something louder and more coherent as understanding passed through the crowd. A pass had failed, maybe the first drive was simply a fluke? Maybe the Dons' adjustments would work.
Deshaun snickered, dapping up Sonny before turning to Braid Bitch. 'You getting locked up now, bitch. This a no fly zone, ya hear?'
'Just 'cause you get lucky once,' Braid Bitch growled, shoving past a laughing Deshaun.
The Shamrocks faced an uncomfortable third down with 8 yards still to go. However, in the huddle, Jeremiah spread his arms over as many of his teammates as he could reach, and said: 'Calm down. I'm still here, so there's nothing to worry about. You know what to do, Trev.'
He nodded to the shorter boy, and Trevor nodded back. They needed something quick and clean, as Trevor didn't want to give the Dons' pass rush a chance to punish them, but with Jeremiah, he knew just what to do.
Deshaun and Sonny's success had given the Dons hope. Coach Hoang's plan would work, they just had to hold tight, and do as they were told; if they worked together they could hold the Shamrocks back.
"He could've figured it out before they scored," Ty thought as he stepped up to Stringbean.
The ball was snapped, and Ty pushed Stringbean's arm aside, slipping in with his spear. But a direct hit did little to disrupt the giant. Ty grit his teeth against his mouthpiece and scrambled back, keeping close against Stringbean as they ran downfield.
After 10 yards, Stringbean darted towards the sideline. Trevor waited a moment longer, then let the ball fly, lobbing it over to the sideline.
Even with Coach Hoang's advice—prevent Stringbean from jumping at the ball—Ty was so close he couldn't run and jump either, so his hand still came nowhere close enough to the ball before Stringbean plucked it from the sky, dragging his long legs behind him to stay inbounds just long enough to secure the catch.
The Shamrocks had another first down, and what progress the Dons had made, was instantly undone.
Stringbean laughed, turning upon Ty. 'You're such a disappointment, aren't you? Why do they even let you on the field? Are you a make-a-wish kid or something? Does everyone call you number one just 'cause they feel sorry for you?'
'The more you talk, the more embarrassing it's going to be when I beat you so bad, you go running back to basketball.'
Ty turned away, meeting Zayden's eyes. Zayden had been watching, though there wasn't any anger or disappointment on his double-shaded face; his eyes were sharp and focused. His chance hadn't come that play, but he was sure it would soon.
First-and-ten. Trevor took the snap, turned to Shannon, and faked a hand-off. Jeremiah pushed past Ty's press, but couldn't shake free of him. Ty was stuck on his hip as they charged down the middle of the field.
Here was Zayden's chance. His eyes turned to the QB. Normally, the pass wouldn't be thrown. He was right in Jeremiah's path, but these Shamrocks were arrogant, they didn't think anyone could reach the heights they could. Of course, the ball was thrown his way with a deep, towering pass.
Ty kept to Stringbean's hip, watching the ball plummet towards them. He'd have to jump as best he could whilst keeping Stringbean down. He made sure not to hold him, but stood close enough that if either of them jumped recklessly, they'd only crumble and crash in a heap together. Still, he was careful with his feet, and when the ball came, he leapt, falling hilariously short of Stringbean's outstretched hands; the giant's feet had barely even left the ground.
But then there was Zayden, flying in from beyond. Soaring above them both, snatching the ball from the air before either one of them could even get a finger on it.
He slammed into Stringbean, falling over him, flipping halfway, and tucking his head as he curled around the ball. He landed on Ty, rolling over further as all three of them fell together.
When Stringbean shook off his shock, he sprung up to his feet, confusion giving way to rage. The crowd was already cheering madly, officials signalling it was an interception and the Dons' ball. He stalked towards the nearest ref, overshadowing them, shouting in their face.
'That was bullshit! Didn't you see him holding me? What the fuck are you looking at? You know how sneaky dirty cheaters like him can be!'
The official shrunk back, but stood their ground, arguing for the call—there was no hold; no foul; no pass-interference. It was a clean interception. The call stood.
Ty sat up, panting hard. It'd been a scary tumble, but thankfully Zayden was alright. The only thing that seemed hurt was Ty's ego. A hand was offered to him, Zayden's hand. He took it, and was helped to his feet.
'Thanks,' he muttered.
'Hey, thank you,' Zayden replied. 'You did great.'
Ty stared at him, then looked around, eyes settling on Coach Hoang on the Dons' sideline, which was in the middle of celebrating. 'No … that was all you.'
The two bumped fists, starting towards the sideline, but Ty never took his eyes off Coach Hoang.
"So that's your plan? You're going to use your best player as nothing more than a decoy?"
As much as it pained Ty to admit, the plan had worked. In one play, the game was flipped on its head, much like Zayden almost had been.
He hoped the plan was solid, and wasn't solely relying on shock value of Zayden being the real hero. Only time would tell, but there was a bigger worry to get past first—the Dons' offence still needed to capitalise on the turnover, otherwise it'd all be for naught.