Stringbean stumbled to his feet, staring at Ty, shock overwhelming the anger he should've felt. Dismay covered his face as he turned towards the nearest official, looking to them for help, though unable to put into words exactly what he had a problem with. In the end all he could do was gesture in Ty's direction. The official ignored him, signalling for the interception, and that Ty was downed by contact, ending the play where he sat.
The crowd—loosed from their shock by the official's signal—screamed their lungs out. They were witnesses to another piece of exceptionalism by the Black Hole; finally, there was a proper game on their hands instead of a blowout.
Ty popped up to his feet, grinning around his mouth-guard. With one last look at Stringbean, he raised the ball above his head, walking towards the Dons' sideline. Trevor swooped in, helping Stringbean up and guiding him back to the Shamrocks' sideline.
The rest of the defence converged around Ty, their excitement making up for his muted celebration. The second half couldn't have started better for them, and now the offence would continue that great start from their 36.
Coach Hoang was waiting for Ty, applauding him as he returned triumphant and satisfied for the first time that day. 'I hope you've got another plan in mind, Samuels. I doubt Byrd'll let you get away with that one again.'
Ty flipped the ball into Coach Hoang's lap. 'He's dumb enough to give me another chance at that one. It's eating him up inside that a tiny pipsqueak like me could rip his heart right out of his chest and there was nothing he could do to stop it.'
'You might be right about that, but still, I wouldn't count on it.'
Coach Hoang COULDN'T count on it. How would Byrd and the Shamrocks respond to what Samuels just did? Would they avoid the danger and try to work other parts of the field, other Receivers? Maybe, but he didn't think it likely. At least Byrd wouldn't stand for such a decision, and he seemed the type to dominate a team's game plan and turn everything to be about him; Samuels attracted those kinds of Receivers.
Ty shrugged, taking his spot on the bench, sitting back to watch the offence get to work. Zayden sat next to him, holding out a fist. Ty bumped it.
'Coach had a feeling you'd do something crazy to start the half,' Zayden said.
'Did I do something crazy?' Ty asked.
'Maybe not, but I've never seen you do something like that.'
He'd never had to resort to something like that. Ty kept his head forward, focusing on the field. 'We're just beginning. There's still a lot more work to do to finish this game off.'
'Right, right…' Zayden turned back towards the game. Stopping the Shamrocks had been the first step, but if the offence didn't capitalise on it, that step would've taken them nowhere.
Jay led the boys onto the field, a small smile on his face. He would've liked to have put his feet up for a few plays longer, but he wasn't about to complain about the defence doing their job.
The Receivers limbered up as they followed him; Stephen's eyes were locked on Braxton, who hadn't stepped off the field and was looking all the more agitated for it.
The Linemen hurried out, eager to show the Shamrocks that they were feeling fine and could keep grinding all day.
Which meant Chris was the last member onto the field. Yet it wasn't trepidation that held him back. He moved with a calm, pointed focus. Jay sagged watching him; why couldn't HE be the one to address the team.
'Alright…' Jay said. 'We can't let the defence down. These bums aren't anything compared to our brothers … right? So let's run 'em over.'
'You gonna lead the way and show us how its done, Captain?' Stephen laughed.
Jay couldn't hold back his smile. 'Oh… I wouldn't want to upstage you guys.'
There were laughs all around as the huddle broke away and they took their positions. Chris was the only one who hadn't even cracked a smile. At least Jay wouldn't have to smash through the brick wall ahead of them—Chris was eager to take the lead on that.
'Set … hike.' Jay took the ball, twisting around, handing it off to Chris who surged towards the outside.
The D-Line shifted, splitting apart as they bull-rushed through their opponents. Chris halted behind Benny, stablising him with a hand whilst looking for another gap to dart through. A hole opened up between Benny and the Tackle, and Chris darted for it. A long arm from the Shamrock contesting Benny shot out, snagging Chris's sleeve. He twisted, spinning and wrenching away from it, stumbling forward. Jordy crunched him from the side, smashing through him and driving him into the turf. Thankfully, Chris's arm, and the ball with it, was pinned to his side in the tackle, and he held onto the ball as he hit the ground hard.
The play resulted in only a gain of 2, and Chris had a hard time convincing himself it was worth the damage inflicted upon him.
Benny was there quickly, offering him a hand up. 'Sorry, man,' Benny said, dusting him off and looking him over. 'You good?'
'I'm good,' Chris said. 'You're good, too. Don't worry about it.'
Despite the comforting words, Benny still wore a frown as they returned to the huddle. Jay stood in the middle of it, hands behind his head, eyes locked on the Shamrocks.
'I bet they've never moved that fast before,' he said, mumbling almost to himself.
'Maybe when a donut hits the floor,' Stephen said, drawing a few snickers from the others in the huddle; Jay's face remained impassive.
'Let's go with a Draw,' Jay said, gaze shifting to Chris.
Chris nodded, not turning away from those questioning eyes. 'I can do whatever you need.'
Jay smiled. 'I know you can … all of you can. You guys could never let me down … I'll make sure to do the same.'
With another cry of "family", the huddle broke apart again.
Jay watched the Shamrocks' D-Line more closely pre-snap. Dark scowls looked back. They were angry, probably not entirely at him, either. He knew he wouldn't like being told to start blitzing all out in the second half after getting to hold his ground in the first. So much more effort; it was much easier letting someone else do all the hard work.
He took the snap and dropped back, then let Chris snatch the ball, surging forward. Jordy had his head down, pushing through the front of the Dons' O-Line, and was late to react when Chris streaked past him. A swiping hand met only air as Chris continued his burst upfield, skirting around a LB's outstretched arm, dragging them with him for a few more yards, bringing the run to a total of 7 yards.
On third-and-one, Cam replaced Chris, though the Dons still intended to keep the ball on the ground. It was another run up the middle, one were Cam bashed his head against a thick wall. He stubbornly pushed against it until it crumbled. He scrambled over it, stretching out for the yard needed to earn the first down.
The Dons were churning through the defence, steadily, but perhaps the runs had cut things too close. Chris's break was short, and he replaced Cam on first down. Either way, it looked like the Dons were still going to run all over the Shamrocks, until Jay pulled away from the next hand-off still holding onto the ball.
Play-Action was a good way for them to start on first down, and it brought Benny space to the outside, cutting under Stephen. Jay flicked the ball over, and Benny turned upfield, racing along the sideline for a gain of 8.
The Dons were continuing their momentum from the first half, and the crowd's cheers was the wind propelling their sails. Yet they had all the time in the world. Jay kept things slow and steady, letting the Shamrocks bake in their anxiety and doubt—would it be another pass? A run? To the outside, or up the middle? Play-Action or Draw? It was times like these he was thankful they had someone like JJ to deal with all that mess on the defensive side.
After the snap, Jay dropped back again, eyes downfield. The Shamrocks' blitz was odd, and annoying, collapsing the pocket from the front rather than pincering it from the sides. It meant he had to back up further, though thankfully the plays developed quickly enough he didn't need to scramble outside.
The Receivers ran deep, dragging defenders away. Chris slipped in over the middle, offering a short quick option for Jay, which he took, lobbing the ball over. At least one positive with the Shamrocks' blitzing was he didn't need to float the ball as high as they weren't in position to bat it down.
Chris caught the ball on his chest, spinning around and sprinting across the marker, earning a few more yards before he dove to safety, between and under a couple of Shamrocks, 7 yards downfield.
The Dons were easily past half-field, verging on field-goal range, and they didn't look to be slowing down.
Jordy and the Shamrocks' D-Line were already looking a little gassed. Hands on hips, chests heaving, as frustration lessened the effects of the glares they sent the Dons' way.
Even with Jay and the offence's calmer pace, they were still struggling to keep up with the repeated barrage of plays.
On first down, Chris's number was called again, stretching to the outside on a run. Knowing to expect a more aggressive frontal assault, he burst outside with more urgency, skirting around an outstretched arm, bending around Benny, who planted a foot outside of the defender's to seal off the edge.
The LBs were waiting for a run outside, and gave chase, though Chris dragged them over towards the sideline, where he was pushed out after a gain of 6. A great run, especially on first down, and Coach Long made sure Chris knew it when he came off for another quick break.
Cam got another couple of runs, like a battering ram up the middle. The first only got a single yard, but then JJ went out, taking his place in the backfield in front of Cam, leading the way for another first down.
'That's what I'm talking about JJ!' Coach Norman yelled, welcoming him and Cam back to the bench. 'Good fucking running, Cam! Make 'em earn every tackle, and make them FEEL you.'
No-one was more pumped up on the Dons' sideline than Coach Norman. He loved these ground out, long drives. None were more demoralising for a defence, he said. Giving up a touchdown to a single big play was easily cast aside as a dumb mistake that won't even happen again—this game even gave some evidence for that—but giving up a touchdown after ten plus plays? That tells the defence they can't do ANYTHING to stop you.
Chris glanced up to the scoreboard as he ventured back onto the field. The quarter was almost halfway done already, but the Dons were on the red-zone's doorstep. Fourteen points wasn't a big margin. The game would be theirs.
Jay welcomed Chris into the huddle. 'We're almost there… just a few more yards… this is our game.'
'Our game,' they repeated.
'Our year,' Benny said, voice hard. More nods spread through the huddle.
Chris took his spot in formation beside Jay, who stood in Shotgun. Each Don stared forward, locked on their shared goal of the end-zone. It was within reach. One touchdown, and the game would hang in such a precarious balance it could be changed with a single play.
Chris WOULD score that touchdown. He WOULD pull his weight. The Dons couldn't falter here, not when they'd carried him through the quarter-finals.
Jay caught the snap, and the O-Line scrambled aside. It was a stampede to the left side of the field, and Chris followed, settled safely underneath it.
The Shamrocks' D-Line lurched forward, though some almost stumbled onto their faces. There was a moment of bewildered hesitation, then they split down the middle with half continuing their charge towards Jay, whilst the other half followed the Dons, who set up a Screen.
Jay turned, flicking the ball over to Chris just before he was flattened. Chris caught the ball and darted upfield, following his many escorts as they stampeded downfield.
Chris navigated the chaos left in their wake; tripping hazards from bodies strewn in the wreckage were the only dangers he had to look out for. Nobody ever came close to touching him as the Dons rumbled into the end-zone and cut the Shamrocks' lead down to one score.
Most Dons swarmed around Chris, shouting over the cheers, laying their own praises upon him. But he knew the real heroes of the play were the Linemen who led the way for him. He was untouched thanks to them; anybody could've done what Chris did.
It was the exact start the Dons needed for the second half, and the extra point that followed was successful, pushing the score to 17–24.
Coach Bean stalked the opposite sideline, glancing towards the Dons' celebrations. His eyes lowered to his own players who sat hunched on the bench. Too many heads were shrinking between shoulder blades. Too many eyes looked at him with panic.
He pushed his shoulders back, standing taller. 'One touchdown—one lucky play—doesn't change the game. We still have the lead, and we can still push the lead back out to double-digits with our next drive. We WILL extend our lead.'
Some nodded and sat up straighter, but the words rung hollow to his own ears. He turned away from them again, wetting his lips as he looked across the field. It hadn't been luck. His eyes darted towards Jeremiah, who sat forward on the bench, eyes locked on the Dons' CB who had stolen the ball from him. Had Jeremiah's inexperience finally caught up with him? Would this be as far as the Shamrocks could go? Coach Bean tried to shake the worrying thoughts from his mind, but they hung on; persistent, dark claws dug deeper.
The kickoff resulted in a touchback, starting the Shamrocks' next drive at the 25-yard line.
Jeremiah stalked onto the field first; Ty was in no rush, skulking through the pack of Dons. Ty could see the Shamrocks were rattled. Some put on a brave face, sure, holding their heads up, exposing their throats as if they weren't terrified of someone ripping them out with ease, but they couldn't keep their fear from their eyes.
Stringbean went right to him. He wasn't scared; he was probably too dumb to feel fear. Coach Bean wasn't dumb.
The ball was snapped, and Shannon took it for an Off-Tackle run, heading towards Jeremiah—who lunged inside to seal the edge against the D-Lineman there—and Ty. However, Jordy was leading the way, pulling from his position in the middle of the Line.
Ty was flat-footed, eyes locked on the RB when Jordy reached him first, knocking him over and clearing a path for Shannon who surged ahead, and picked up 6 yards before JJ cut through the messy field and tackled him.
When Jordy rolled off Ty, Deshaun was the first Don to reach him and offer a hand. Ty took it, grumbling as he was pulled to his feet.
'Yo, you good?' Deshaun said.
'As good as anyone can be after being run over by an ice-cream truck,' Ty answered, still scowling at Jordy's back.
Deshaun was still laughing by the time the two Dons reached their huddle. Others checked in on Ty, and he assured them he was fine, apologising for letting the RB get free. Carefree smiles met him in return as they promised to help him out better next time.
Next time had to wait, as the following play was a dropback, and with how Stringbean burst towards the outside, it wasn't a Draw. Trevor kept the ball, eyes scanning the field, except where Ty and Stringbean went. He kept his eyes lowered for once, and after Braxton and Randy crossed by over the top, he dumped the ball over the middle to Shannon who turned upfield, and scrambled just over the marker before running into JJ.
If the Dons used their RBs as the focal point for their offence, the Shamrocks were going to do the same. While it was only marginally successful so far, it did have the second benefit of draining more of the clock, which—at least at that point—was still their friend.
Another Off-Tackle run came Ty's way, with Jordy pulling to be the lead blocker, and Stringbean sealing Donte. Ty was better prepared, lunging in before springing out around Jordy's block, cutting off Shannon's path to the outside, but the weaselly RB squeezed through the gap between Jordy and Stringbean, even as Ty latched onto his jersey with a single hand. He was slowed for a moment, but pulled free. The delay meant JJ met him 3 yards beyond the Line, and there the run was stopped.
JJ helped Ty to his feet, clapping him on the back. 'That's the fight I love to see in you, hermano,' JJ said.
'Thanks for covering for me,' Ty said.
JJ shook his head. 'What kind of teammate would I be if I didn't?'
In the huddle, it was Donte's turn to apologise. That edge should've been his responsibility, and he was letting the Shamrocks run through it whilst leaving its defence solely to Ty, who had better things to worry about.
'If they think they can run over me, they're wrong,' Ty said in response. 'Just keep that big fucker occupied, we'll deal with the Running Back.'
Donte nodded, though still looked glum as the Dons took their positions in formation again.
Cries of "dee-fence" came from the enthusiastic crowd, filling the stadium; if the Dons were winning back control, the fans in attendance wanted to be on the winning side again.
Another second down meant another dropback. Still, Trevor wouldn't look Jeremiah's way, but this play, there wasn't time to look at ANY target but the primary one. It wasn't just Jordy abandoning his post in the O-Line, but the majority of them that ran off towards the sideline, Shannon drifting across underneath them—the Shamrocks were trying a HB Screen as well.
Stringbean held his ground, preventing Ty from running forward and intercepting the pass, long arms keeping him at bay as the ball was flicked over to Shannon, and the Shamrocks rumbled forward.
The Dons swarmed, but each one was met by a Shamrock, taking out the blockers one-by-one until Zayden swooped in, and slammed into Shannon. Though the Shamrocks had already crossed half-field by then.
Ty laughed. They wanted to use the Dons' tricks against them? Couldn't they get their own game plan? Maybe his interception had scared every original thought out of their heads.
The crowd's fervour wavered at the Shamrocks' progress, but determination was still etched onto each Dons' face, without a hint of worry. What the Shamrocks were doing was too simple. Unexpected to begin with, but they'd lost that element of surprise, and had only barely crossed half-field for it. They wouldn't get much further.
The Dons prepared themselves, standing resolute as they stared down the giants before them. It felt obvious where the ball would go, though they were alert and ready for any possibility.
The ball was snapped; another run. When Stringbean lunged towards Donte, Ty shot forward, spear finding Stringbean's side, knocking him off-balance, sending him stumbling against his Tackle. Donte took advantage, surging through Stringbean, pushing him further back. Now when Ty went wide to cut off Shannon's run, dragging Jordy with him, there was no gap for Shannon to cut up into, and he had to go even wider.
By the time Shannon finally got around Ty's outstretched arm, he was hemmed in by Deshaun, and cutting up then ran him right into JJ's path, who crushed him into the turf after a gain of only a single yard.
The ground was no-man's land, and the sky wasn't much better.
The Dons' zone was still oppressive, and whatever gaps Shannon found underneath were quickly closed up once he had the ball. A checkdown resulted in only a 3-yard gain, stranding the Shamrocks on third-and-six.
Maybe salvation could've been found, but Trevor still had too much fear to look Ty's way. Was it a call from the coaches? Maybe they thought they had enough of a buffer, still clinging to their one-score lead, that they could waste a drive seeing if the rest of the team could help clean up the mess they'd made.
Trevor dropped back once more. He didn't have a chance to look Ty and Jeremiah's way. It was another Screen. How arrogant they were to think such a cheap play would work twice.
Ty was still held off by Stringbean, but that left Donte free to slip under the blocks and run Shannon down from behind. The shield-wall of Shamrocks in front of Shannon became his undoing, trapping him with Donte, who dragged him down short of the first-down marker, ending the Shamrocks' drive, and sending the punting unit onto the field.
The tides had shifted fully between the halves. A second stop secured the Dons' opportunity to erase the gap, and bring it back to a tie game. All they needed was one more touchdown, one good play.