The Dons' bench—a pocket of despair—stood like a rock in the river that was the crowd's ecstasy. Coach Hoang turned away from the field, focusing on his whiteboard, moving magnets around, adjusting the Dons' formation. Could he bring Sonny or Zayden over to assist? Maybe JJ could hold leverage inside and under Kentavious. There had to be some way he could support Ty; he couldn't just leave the boy to drown.
Ty sprung to his feet, but didn't follow Kentavious's retreating back. With clenched fists, he walked back to the Dons' bench, head held high. He saw every anguished face—every concerned look—and committed them to memory. He was the reason for such grief. If he hadn't gotten caught up in Kentavious's challenges, and dragged into a showcase instead of a battle, he could've won.
Kentavious hadn't beaten Ty, Ty had lost. He should've shoved Kentavious out-of-bounds, just like he had to Stringbean the week prior. It'd be even easier with someone of a normal stature like Kentavious. Instead, he'd been goaded into an aerial contest, which could've led to an interception if he won, but he'd ignored the safer option, and now the Dons were paying for his mistake.
He strode up to Coach Hoang and said: 'I'm sorry, Coach.'
'Hm?' Coach Hoang looked up from his clipboard, taking a moment to remember the situation they were in.
'I fucked up, I could've stopped them from scoring, but I was too focused on proving I'm better. I wasn't looking for the right moment.'
'No; don't worry about it, Samuels. Your aggressiveness is good, it's what makes you YOU. Keep it, but as you say, look for the right moment because that WILL come, even if I have to force it out of them.'
Coach Hoang was clearly preoccupied, so Ty let him work. Ty sat on the bench, ignoring the concerned glances. It was just shock. They'd soon get over it and remember he always corrected his mistakes. The next drive would be his chance at redemption, and he wouldn't miss it.
First, however, was the offence's chance to limit the damage of Ty's mistake, and equalise the game after the extra point was successful, pushing the Longhorns' lead to 7–0.
It started, of course, with another kickoff. Chris caught the ball in the end-zone, rushing out into the field, determined not to be outdone by the Longhorns' return. A wall of Longhorns stood before him, however. They were a disciplined unit, leaving few openings as they moved in unison and engaged the Dons, forcing them back a step. When Chris tried to squeeze through, they closed around him, trapping him, and bringing him down at the 24-yard line. The Dons would start a step back from where they could've if Chris had simply taken a knee when he caught the ball. Despite this setback—as minuscule as it was—they took to the field with their chests puffed out, and their confidence unwavering.
Even with their top defence, the Dons were prepared for a shootout. Every game leading up to the championship had been against the best offences in the nation. Against a barrage like that, it was only logical to expect at least one missile to slip through and strike home. Their return salvo would be less plentiful, but they knew their opponents wouldn't have as suppressive a dome as they did; they could answer back, and reset this game.
Jay led the offence out, every step determined and certain. They WOULD tie the game by the end of this drive; the Longhorns weren't the type of team you could allow to hold a lead. Every Don carried the same determination. But such determination was mirrored in the defence who met them on the field.
One of the smaller players stood central to the Longhorns' defensive formation. Adam Pearce was as slender as a bow, but held the focus of an arrow. Everything about him was slim, pointed, and looking forward; he was the type who didn't know the meaning of the word "retreat". He was nocked and aimed at the heart of the Dons' offence—Jay, even if the motivation he held in the back of his head was JJ. Unlike the Dons' defensive captain, Adam wouldn't fail his team.
A jittery sophomore shuffled closer to Adam. The two had come into the team together, and near-instantly taken over the defence with an almost twin-like chemistry.
George Pippen was the larger of the two, by a good margin, but was deceptively quick an explosive for someone of his bulk. He was longer than he looked, too, his girth disguising the long limbs he used to wreak havoc on O-Lines and QBs alike.
'I can go crazy, right?' Pippen asked. 'You guys got everything else locked down?'
'Your job's to disrupt their flow, Pip,' Adam answered, not taking his eyes off Jay. 'So yeah, I'd say you can go crazy.'
Pippen's plump face stretched with a grin as he hurried towards the edge of the Line and settled into a three-point stance.
On the edge of the field, Juan Sprout ignored how much like a child he looked standing beside the Dons' giant, Stephen Day. Where Adam was nearly as skinny as Juan, he was at least peaked at six foot. Meanwhile Juan was one of the few Longhorns to be south of that milestone, and the only one who wasn't a freshman. But if anyone had proven size didn't matter, it was Juan's goal—his inaccessible rival—Tyrese Samuels. Juan may be staring up at his tallest challenge yet, but that only meant it was the perfect opportunity to prove he was the best CB in the nation once and for all.
Though Juan would have to wait for his chance, as the Dons started with a run. Jay handed the ball over to Chris, who shot up the middle, trusting in his Linemen to open up a hole for him, which they did. He burst through, but before he could make a move, Adam shot forward like a missile and HAMMERED him into the ground.
Chris clung tight to the ball, even as all the air was expelled from his body. His run was stopped short at 3 yards, but at least he hadn't fumbled, and after he was helped to his feet by his concerned teammates, thankfully there was nothing broken.
'You good, Chris?'
'…Yeah,' Chris wheezed. As he returned to the huddle, he waved off further help, and gestured to the sideline to make sure they knew he was alright; winded, but alright.
The Dons set up again, and the Longhorns settled into place opposite them. Jimmy London had the whole field behind him, yet it was full of nothing but grass. Before him was a short patch, little more than the red-zone and end-zone combined, but all the action was there; every player was there.
Of course, the Dons had started with a run, but even if it was their pattern, you had to be wary of irregularities. Just like how after a 3-yard run on first down, a team would probably go for a pass on second down, but they could still run again. Jimmy had to be ready for both options, even if his primary concern was about stopping passes. He and Adam had to work in sync. When Jay took the snap and dropped back without even looking to hand the ball off, both Jimmy and Adam dominated the middle of the field at different levels.
Pippen charged around the corner, getting the step on the Tackle, curving past them. The pressure was immediate, but Jay stepped up calmly, avoiding the initial onslaught, keeping his eyes downfield. Everyone was covered. The Longhorns' defence blanketed all; an oppressive force holding them all down.
Pippen surged back around, coming for Jay again. Without any time left, Jay had to get rid of the ball. Trusting in the size mismatch down the sideline, he tossed it up for Stephen, just before Pippen knocked him down. However, Jay's aim was off, having to lean away from the pressure put him off-balance even before he was levelled by the hit. The ball drifted just out of Stephen's reach and out-of-bounds for an incompletion.
Instantly, the Dons were on the back foot as third down was upon them. Jay exhaled, calming his thumping heart. They had to remain calm, and as a captain, he had to lead by example. As the huddle gathered around him, he apologised for his poor throw, then turned to Chris. They'd have to pass again—and Chris, even as a RB—would be vital for that.
'Before your route, I need you to chip that LB when he comes around the edge,' Jay said.
'I got you,' Chris said, grinning.
Jay already knew all his brothers had his back, so now it was up to him not to let them down.
Even when Chris would slip out into the flat, he would only be a last resort. The main targets Jay needed to look for would be Stephen down the sideline again—that mismatch COULD be exploited—or, if he got open, Cole over the middle.
'Set…hike.'
Juan was like an annoying, yapping chihuahua running around Stephen's legs. Despite having the overwhelming size-advantage, it was hard for Stephen to release cleanly into his stride.
The rest of the defence was just as frustrating for the Receivers. Linemen would chip in, bumping Benny off his block, then Adam was always watching, ever-present across the middle of the field with a contingent of disciplined LBs, shutting down both Benny and Cole.
Deeper into the formation, Jimmy reigned, giving Amon a passing glance, only moving over at the last possible moment before the deep threat grew too much emphasis on the THREAT.
Pippen didn't have such cares about the Receivers, however. His only focus was getting to Jay. And after his first rush, he knew how this "calm" QB operated. There was no such thing as a fearless QB. Some just hid that fear better than others, but they all felt it when an edge-rusher was bearing down on them. That's why it was so important for them to drill so much they built their own rhythm; their own instincts to get out of the way without fucking up their throwing mechanics.
Blitzing past the Tackle, all that stood between Pippen and his goal was Chris. RBs were never great blockers; they were always overprotective. Pippen feinted inside, the shortest path to Jay, and Chris bit hard, diving for where Pippen's legs should've been. A spin made Chris look silly as he dove at nothing but the grass. With that, Jay had nowhere to step up into except for Pippen's waiting arms. So he flinched away instead, trying to roll out of the pocket. It was too late. Pippen slammed into him, latching onto the ball, wrenching as they fell. Jay clung to the ball, though as it slipped away from him, his fingers found Pippen's arm instead, digging into it. They bounced along the ground, rolling as their struggle controlled, but once they completed a full rotation, and Pippen was back on top, it was clear the ball was his.
Again, despair hit the Dons with the force of a river. They stood alone, pelted from all sides as the crowd went crazy for the brilliant defensive effort they saw. The Longhorns gathered around Pippen, though their short celebration was done while leaving the field; their job wasn't finished.
Ty stood, glad to be getting back on the field so soon, though he would've preferred if it was because the offence had scored fast. As sorry as he was for them, he was too restless to remain on the bench; the way to make it up to them would be to cause a turnover of his own.
As the Dons trudged back to the sideline, Chris and Jay had their heads together, apologising to one another, but the only people who blamed them were themselves. Coach Long welcomed the boys to the bench and told them to forget all about their disastrous first drive; there would be plenty of opportunities to make up for it later.
The Longhorns' offence shared their defence's calm focus as they reemerged. Ty, however, wasn't the only restless Don. A sort of nervous energy exuded from the entire defence as they formed ranks. They had to make a stand, but even if they limited the damage to only a field goal that would still extend the Longhorns' lead to two-possessions… and if the offence couldn't get their shit together afterwards…
There was only one thing for it. Ty needed an interception, and needed it NOW. If the Longhorns scored again, the game would quickly be out of hand.
Kentavious was another who was eager to be back on the field; eager to be facing Ty again. Though with how the Longhorns were starting this drive from the red-zone, he'd only get the one duel against Ty, seeing as he was going straight for the end-zone.
Both boys knew this. They didn't have time for trash-talk. Besides, their game would do so much more talking than they ever could with words.
The ball was snapped. Kentavious feinted an inside release, then burst out, racing along the sidelines. Whatever lead he built up from this picture-perfect one-two release was soon lost as Ty ran alongside him. Kentavious had one goal in mind, and wasn't hiding the fact he was going deep to the back corner of the end-zone. It was so obvious, in fact, that Sonny drifted over to contend with him as well. Neither Kentavious nor Morrison was put off by this development, and the ball was soon lobbed over.
It was another looping rainbow of a pass. One that in normal circumstances would've been uncatchable—at least if trying to remain in bounds, anyway—but Kentavious wasn't normal. Ty knew he could stretch up, snag that ball, and get his feet down within the end-zone if left to his own devices; Ty couldn't allow that.
As much as Ty's instincts screamed for him to leap and target the ball, Ty knew a better opportunity would come if he was simply patient. He stayed grounded as Kentavious leapt first, and Sonny soon followed, not even close to reaching the same heights as the Longhorn.
The ball found Kentavious's hands as Sonny fell away, flailing. Kentavious's legs stretched, toes pointing down to dig at the ground whenever it came close, but Ty didn't give him the chance, spearing him out of midair.
Ty heard the air leave Kentavious's body, but still the Longhorn didn't panic, and still his legs stretched towards the painted grass of the end-zone. Ty had to dig his own cleats into the ground and give a second effort as he carried Kentavious further beyond the back of the end-zone before they slammed into the ground. Kentavious's long legs thudded down with his toes inches away from the end-zone.
Ty scrambled to his feet. Sonny thumped him on the back and said: 'Good shit, Ty. Make him think twice about leaving his feet around you.'
Ty grunted in response. Nothing would stop Kentavious from flying through the air. Such a thing seemed as natural for him as it would've a bird.
Kentavious picked himself up, chuckling softly. Ty's irritation spiked with every breathy laugh.
'Something funny?' he asked.
'A little,' Kentavious answered. 'Perhaps its your desperation that's funniest of all—in a tragically sad way. I didn't think you'd back down from my challenge after being defeated once. I was led to believe you and your team were much more resilient than that.'
'There's nothing desperate about using the advantages the game gives you. If anything, you seem like the desperate ones, needing to utilise every last inch of the end-zone just to have a hope of beating me.'
Kentavious smiled, and again there was that gleam in his eye. Not anger, or frustration, but the kind of pure-hearted joy Ty often saw in JJ's eyes during team workouts.
'And the desperation that requires you seeking assistance from a teammate?' Kentavious asked.
'I don't require shit. But this is a team game, isn't it? If you don't want my team to do the optimal thing, force them to focus on something else.'
'Touché.'
Kentavious's smile was still present after both teams had huddled together, then took their positions once more. The Dons had another chance, but would the Longhorns not be more wary now? Perhaps not.
Kentavious, if he had learned anything, seemingly wasn't changing his tactics as he once again feinted inside before releasing outside. He and Ty raced neck-and-neck down the sideline, and once more, Sonny shifted over to run with them as well. Yet this time, when Kentavious touched the end-zone, he cut in sharply, and blazed past Sonny. The movement was so sudden, and angled in such a way that Ty had to avoid his own teammate, which only widened the gap Kentavious had made. Still, the Longhorns weren't taking any chances with Ty, and the pass was pushed out far in front of Kentavious, who dove for it, reeling the ball in against his chest before he scraped along the ground, rolling to a stop.
Ty pulled up short, staring at Kentavious. Another roar filled the stadium as the officials signalled for the touchdown.
Kentavious stood. His smile had vanished, and the gleam in his eyes had faded, frustration taking its place. He glanced at Ty, then turned away, walking back to his own sideline.
They were just barely five minutes into the game, yet—after another successful extra point—the score was already 14–0 in favour of the Longhorns, and the Dons were in trouble of facing an insurmountable lead in the first quarter alone.