“Well, folks, it looks like this championship is coming to an end with the Tennessee Tigers trailing by six in these last five minutes. They will need a miracle to get this win against the number one ranked defense in their division.”
“I don’t know, Mark. The Wolves may have the best defense, but the Tigers have one of the top-ranked players in the country who carries the name Houdini because he can pull a win from nothing,” the announcer stressed, gaining a roaring cheer from the Tigers across the stadium.
The player in question sat nervously on the bench, head tilted back toward the sky as he prayed. Atlas Graham knew that everyone, his team and every fan in the stands, was counting on him to work his magic. The announcers were right about the Wolves having a fierce defense, something he had seen first-hand since the start of the game when he was facing down two or more defenders on every play. Eliminating their biggest threat downfield was a good idea, but Atlas was built of tougher stuff than they thought.
He watched the D-line manage to hold their offense back, and then he was being pulled off the bench, his QB dragging him in by his face mask. Behind them, the return team was already settling on the field, just waiting for the snap.
“Look, I know you got something special up your sleeve, man. I also know you want this more than any of us. You declare tomorrow, and four college championships will look mighty fine to those coaches you’re performing for,” George stated, his voice barely audible above the crowd. “Just work your magic, Graham.”
“Just get me the ball. I’ll get to the paint,” he replied, his tone leaving no room for doubt as they shared a grin.
“That’s what I wanna hear, man. Let’s do this.” George tapped their helmets together and then looked back to the field as their punt return caught the ball just ten yards from the Wolves’ end zone. Jordan was only a sophomore, a fellow wide receiver, and was skillful at evading the giant defenders thanks to his lean stature. Atlas watched him sprint to the left, only to scramble to his right when the Wolves tried to corner him and straighten himself. The Wolves managed a lucky hit at their thirty-yard line, dragging Jordan down after catching him by the legs.
Atlas cheered alongside his teammates as he jogged onto the field and into position on the left, rolling his shoulders as George settled into his spot. His muscles were tense, ready to act in a split-second, and the ball was live. Atlas sprinted toward a touchdown, a defender following close, but turned sharp toward his right in the hopes that he would be open.
Atlas looked around for any incoming defenders but found George climbing from under a pile of linemen. They only lost five yards, but it was more than any of them wanted. The young man glanced toward the clock, feeling the pressure as the minutes turned to seconds. George met his eyes and then jerked his head right, so Atlas nodded back and dropped back into position at the thirty-five. He closed his eyes briefly, letting the crowd fade away, and the blissful silence washed over him. This game could make or break his chances of getting drafted in April, so he had to make this last drive count. He hadn’t spent the past decade working his ass off not to make it to the draft.
He vaguely heard George call the play, and then he was off. Atlas’ muscles ached after the past three hours of running and getting hit by men with twice his mass, but he pushed himself straight and then angled sharply to the right. Atlas could practically feel the cornerback on his tail as they approached his destination, the senior looking over his shoulder for the ball that was undoubtedly headed his way. He was barely five yards away when he saw the defender drop his shoulder, but Atlas had expected it. He pivoted around on his left foot and used his right to jump up, his fingers tightening around the ball so he was tackled into the paint for a game-winning touchdown.
Atlas ripped off his helmet as the noise crashed into him like a wave, the stands exploding into cheers that drowned out the booing Wolves. The young man tilted his head up and signed the cross before pointing to the sky, his heart racing and chest heaving as he was swarmed in a sea of orange.
“Houdini did it! An astounding catch by Atlas Graham to secure his fourth championship at the collegiate level. It was a bold move to face a defender trying to drag you down, but Graham worked that Nashville magic alright!”
“You fuckin’ did it,” George screamed, heavy hands slapping into Atlas’ back as the team echoed their quarterback’s sentiment.
“We did it,” he yelled back, bringing their helmets together again in a satisfying clack. They dispersed after a few minutes of shouting, and the players ran out into the field as orange and silver confetti rained down around them.
“Atlas, could we get a word?” The young man smiled at his favorite reporter and nodded.
“Of course, Danielle. I always have time for you.”
“Charmer,” she said but was smiling back as the cameramen got into position around him. “How does it feel, Atlas? You’re ending your college career with a fourth consecutive championship title.”
“Uh, it feels amazing, just like it did the first time,” Atlas admitted, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he finally heard the song playing over the speakers. He had gotten the right to choose the victory song for his final game, and so he decided his favorite. The pop song might not seem like his type, but he liked to think his music taste was pretty eclectic.
“I heard through the grapevine that you declare tomorrow; care to comment?”
“It’s true. I’ll declare myself eligible for the draft in the morning and, hopefully, be in the combine by February.” That was the goal, anyway.
“Is there any doubt you’ll be drafted this spring?”
Atlas ran a hand through his sweaty hair. “I mean, there’s always doubt. There are about 300 players at the combine every year, all lookin’ for a team to take them, just like I am. I plan to show up and show out come February, so I hope it’s enough to get me a spot. They’re looking for the best choice, so I’m gonna do my best to prove myself.”
“Well, with a performance like tonight, I doubt there’s anyone better than you,” Danielle replied in her usual upbeat tone. “I just have to ask, though. You’ve been bouncing around like the Energizer bunny since the game ended. It’s interesting to see someone so full of energy after almost four hours of running.” Atlas laughed and rubbed his jaw almost bashfully.
“I just really love this song.”
“Oh, a big Savannah Summers fan, then?”
“The biggest,” he replied. “If I get drafted next year, she’s got a season ticket with her name on it. I’ve been trying to meet her for years but usually miss the meet-and-greets due to games. I got close last year at the start of the Run Away tour, but she doesn’t really get to talk to fans afterward since she has so many shows to attend.” Atlas had been a fan of her since the beginning, long before she had become a worldwide name, so maybe he’d have better luck on his turf.
“Hopefully, she sees this and decides to meet her biggest fan, then,” Danielle teased playfully, patting his shoulder like a mother. “I hope to see you at Nissan Stadium next fall, Atlas.”
“That’s the dream.”
That was nine months ago. It felt like the days had gone by in a flash before April arrived, and he was walking across that draft stage with a Tennessee Lightning hat on his head. The summer had passed by just as quickly with all the changes following draft day. Atlas got his signing bonus as a check with more zeroes than he had ever seen and moved into his own penthouse two weeks later in downtown Nashville. Then, off-season training began, and it felt like he had blinked and somehow ended up in the locker room with the other rowdy Lightning players.
Atlas stared at the jersey in his hands. His name was printed across the back, and he looked up at the picture he had taped inside his cubby. His brother, Ryan, smiled back at him, the pair of them in matching jerseys on a field that had seen better days.
“We did it,” Atlas murmured, bowing his head for a moment.
“Hey, you need to get ready, man. We’re about to head out.” Atlas glanced over his shoulder and nodded at his fellow wide receiver, Alex Daniels. The young man pulled the jersey over his pads and helmet before joining his new teammates at the tunnel opening.
“Alright, boys, it all starts tonight,” the quarterback, Colin, began in his deep Texan accent. “We all heard what they’ve been sayin’ about our team. This our chance to prove ’em all wrong. We go out there and start strong, set the tone for the season. Lightning on three, boys. One, two, three!”
“Lightning!” They yelled, storming from the tunnel in an explosion of blue and white.
Atlas was caught up in a whirlwind of adrenaline as the team flooded the field, and the young man took a second to himself when he reached the sidelines. There were thousands of fans for both teams cheering around them, but he was surprised that the Lightning fans were equal to the Houston Rams. The rookie knew his team choice was often considered idiotic at best, but he knew his childhood team could be great again.
“Hey, rookie, get over here,” Atlas flushed, easily blamed on the beaming lights, and hustled to the bench. “Got your head on straight, man?”
“Yeah, Alex, I’m good,” he replied, nodding once. “Just feels different.” Alex grinned and twisted his head to look over the crowd.
“The first time is always special,” the blonde joked, helping alleviate the young man’s worries. “I know you probably want to be starting rather than riding the bench, but you’ll give a helluva show no matter when you hit the field. You think you’ll be able to step up when the time comes?”
“All I can do is my best,” Atlas said, looking out across the field as the coin toss began. “I said I wanted to be a Lightning even when people called me an idiot. This is my team now, and I’m gonna prove everyone else wrong.” Alex chuckled beside him and then tugged on his helmet as the Rams elected to punt the ball.
“I think you’re gonna do just fine out here, rookie.” Atlas watched his new friend jog onto the field and take his position in Rams territory as the game began. The young man was not used to watching a game from the sidelines, seeing all the action rather than being in the thick of it like before. Atlas was a nervous ball of energy as he watched their first drive barely make it past centerfield, a lead weight settling in his stomach as he bounced in place.
“Alright, John, it looks like the Tennessee Lightning are off to a strong start. We have Lamar Quinn punting this season, a rookie out of LSU with an impressive college record.” Atlas absently listened to the announcer echoing around him, though his eyes remained on the field. “Quinn hits it straight down the middle, and it is caught by Trey Dalton. Dalton cuts to the left, narrowly missing a tackle from Cooper Smith, only to be caught by Devin White at the Ram’s own 45-yard line.”
The Lightning defense managed to keep the Rams from the endzone, but it was no surprise. The team had worked tirelessly in the preseason, and their defense was better than in years. The same could not be said for their quarterback. Colin O’Conner did not like Atlas very much; that was certain from the moment the rookie stepped into the training camp. Colin was mediocre at best compared to the other team members, who gave their all during practice, so the rookie called him on it. Needless to say, the four-year NFL veteran was not too happy to be patronized by him.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
Atlas grimaced when Colin threw the ball straight into a defender’s hands and shook his head. The quarterback had grown lax in his position, secure with the knowledge that no one else wanted to be his replacement. It was Colin’s final season with the Lightning before he retired, so it seemed like the veteran didn’t care how the season went.
“And that is a touchdown for the Rams; look at Jace Tyler with the interception! From the Lightning’s thirty-two to the endzone, what a great catch to start the game.” Atlas glanced toward Coach Taylor as he grabbed Colin by the jersey but felt no sympathy when he chewed the player out. Play like shit, and you get treated like it.
A time-out was called for the Rams, pausing the clock only two minutes into the second quarter. The young man yearned to be in that huddle but knew he had to serve his time on the bench like every other rookie. That didn’t mean he had to like it. Atlas watched his new team fail another drive, again falling over twenty yards from where they needed to be. He observed Colin getting ready to be sacked for the third time with a slight smirk, but it fell quick when another interception landed in their opponent’s hands.
The Rams scored another touchdown with only two minutes to go before halftime. Atlas could feel his teammates’ sinking moods and wished there was something he could do, but nothing could be done from his current position. The odds looked worse with every minute that passed if they didn’t do something special on this drive.
Their running back, Jay Davis, had the game’s most impressive play so far. He had made it through the middle and kept their first down at the Ram’s forty-five. Atlas stood with his fellow second string as they lined up, and then the wide receivers sprinted down the field. Alex headed down the left side with Lukas Wall down the right, both doing their best to shake the Ram on their tails. Lukas hit the blue paint and turned sharply to his right as the ball sailed toward him, and he tucked it neatly to his side before the defender caught him around the middle.
Atlas whooped alongside his teammates as they ran down the side but realized the receiver hadn’t risen from the ground yet. Lukas was lying flat on his back and holding his ribs, his moans of pain audible even from the sidelines. The player who tackled him was waving the medical staff over, and the stadium watched as he was removed from the field on a stretcher.
“And it looks like Lukas Wall is removed from the game as the second quarter comes to an end. It was a clean hit, but it looks like he just went down wrong under Justin McCormick.”
“McCormick’s a pretty big boy, now. He obviously didn’t mean to hurt the Lightning’s receiver, but he can’t help his size.” Atlas glanced across to the Rams sideline, where the defender in question was talking with their head coach, obviously agitated over the situation.
“Yes, but the Lightning will now have to move to their backup wide receiver, Atlas Graham.” The rookie paused mid-stride, glancing over his shoulder to stare at the jumbotron as the announcers continued. He knew Tim Delaney and Mike Josh, the two announcers of the Nissan Stadium, could sometimes be vicious and wondered what they had to say about him.
“Graham is a spectacular wide receiver, Tim. He was a major player at the college level, easily considered one of the best. Not to mention, third overall draft pick.”
“I understand he’s got some good stats, but I just don’t get the hype. He’s a rookie with one of the league’s highest four-year contracts ever recorded, but he’s done nothing to deserve it.” The young man huffed and returned to the tunnel to join his team in the locker room.
The others looked a bit dejected as the coach spoke with Colin, some icing down knees while the linebackers shoveled in protein bars to prepare for the second half. Atlas didn’t feel like sitting, but he would need the energy since he would be hitting the field in twenty-five minutes. He flopped backward into his cubby and tugged off his helmet with a soft sigh.
“You feelin’ alright, rookie?”
“Of course, how’s Lukas?”
“Coach Bray said he broke four ribs, so they’re sending him off to get x-rays to make sure he’s not in real danger.”
“Least it ain’t more serious,” the young man replied, absently tapping his fingers against his padded thighs.
“You ready to hit the field? Got a lot of eyes on you now. Everyone’s expecting somethin’ big from the man with magic.”
“I mean, if this is supposed to make me less nervous, you’re doing terrible,” Atlas said with a shrug. “I know people have a lot of hope in me, and I don’t plan to let ’em down, Alex.” His friend gave him a wide grin and slapped a hand on his shoulder.
“Good, because everyone’s gonna be lookin’ at you whether we win or lose, so keep your head on straight.” No pressure, the rookie thought to himself as he looked up at the picture again. His brother, Ryan, had been the one to get them started in football. It had been his dream to play for the Lightning, but then it became theirs. He wouldn’t be in that locker room if not for his brother.
“Graham!” The rookie’s head snapped up and looked at Coach Taylor, ready. “You ready to hit the field, son?”
“Yes, coach,” he replied, trying to still his hands by his sides as he gripped his helmet.
“Let’s get out there and make our comeback, boys. Whether we win or lose, we didn’t work all summer to just give up now,” Alex called out, rallying the boys into a tight huddle. “All or nothing, guys, Lightning on three. One, two, three: Lightning!” Atlas’ voice echoed alongside his teammates, and then they were marching from the locker room like soldiers to battle.
Atlas joined the first-string offense while the Rams began the first drive of the second half. He tapped a comforting tune against his thighs, the lyrics playing in his head as if he were just running at the gym or cooking. The rookie looked toward the VIP suites, searching for a flash of red hair, then shook his head. There was no way Savannah Summers had shown up to the game at his request, but some naive part of him had hoped. Atlas had wanted to talk to her from the moment he saw her, but the fates had never aligned quite right. Inviting her to the game was his best option, a spur-of-the-moment idea that spawned from Danielle’s question, and it didn’t work. His dream of finally talking to her was slowly dying like a smothered fire as life continued to get in the way.
“Atlas?”
“Hm?” Atlas flushed, embarrassed at being caught daydreaming.
“Ready to get on the field?”
“Absolutely.” He could see Alex grinning behind his helmet as he took his first step onto the field of Nissan Stadium and knew he was doing the same.
“Show ’em why they call you Houdini.” Atlas gave a sharp nod and headed toward the right side of the field, eyeing the Rams players only a few feet away. The rookie took a deep breath as he set up for the play, his body thrumming with tension as he waited for the snap. Those few seconds always felt like an eternity for the young man, but then everything shifted into place.
Atlas was off, running the route with ease after weeks of training. Two defenders were on him as he made his way toward the left side of the field, but it left Alex wide open for a smooth catch at the 35-yard line. It felt good to be on the field, even if he wasn’t making the plays, and he settled back into position for the next drive. Atlas was the intended receiver of this play and looked around for the ball but found it lying on the ground by a sacked Colin.
The rookie’s brow furrowed as he jogged back to the same spot and looked at Alex, but the older man only shook his head. With a second down and still seven behind, the Lightning were itching to hit the endzone again and tie the game. They set up for a longer pass, both wide receivers crouched down on the left, then took off running in sync. They reached the twenty-five and then split, Alex heading for the endzone with a defender hot on his tail while Atlas turned sharply toward the right. His defender may as well have been a country mile behind him, and then he caught a glimpse of the ball.
The rookie knew he wasn’t close enough, so he made sure to time it right and lunged with his arms outstretched. Atlas pulled his elbow close when he felt the leather smack into his gloved hands and hit the ground with a low grunt.
“A deep pass for Atlas Graham’s first catch of his NFL career, how fitting. The Lightning are sitting at the Rams’ five-yard line after that 30-yard gain, practically in their backyard and saying this game is not over yet,” Tim stated, the excitement evident in his voice. Atlas had always liked Tim and the way he described the game, and his being a fan didn’t hurt.
“Let’s see if their defense can match the new energy then,” Mark finished.
They managed another touchdown, with Colin passing the ball off to Lamar to run up the middle. The defense was also on their A-game, keeping the Rams from scoring with renewed vigor despite the grim start. It was clear that their opponent was feeling the heat as they seemed more brutal when Atlas retook the field, but it also meant they were nervous. The rookie knew that when players got nervous, they also got sloppy.
Atlas shook the defenders that tried to keep up with him, but he evaded them easily with each second that passed in the third quarter. Unfortunately, his window to work his magic was quickly closing as Colin was noticeably getting tired. Atlas could only do so much on his own, after all. As the third quarter came to a close, the ball was fumbled by Lamar after a shifty hit from the side and taken straight to the Rams’ endzone. Atlas could hear someone screaming about a flag, but the refs never threw any, so the Lightning were behind again.
“Keep it together, guys. We got one more quarter left, so let’s make some magic,” Colin shouted out, already flopping down onto the bench to down some water. Unfortunately, there was no magic to be made.
The start of the fourth quarter had the Lightning resorting to short passes as Colin was too unreliable to throw long, and the Rams quickly caught on. Atlas ended up on the ground after every snap, and his whole body was aching by the time the clock hit two minutes left. All they needed was a touchdown to tie the game, and they could try to cinch a win in overtime. On their third down, Atlas watched Colin call a hail mary as he settled on the right side. It was a long shot, literally and figuratively, and the wide receiver only prayed it worked.
He heard the snap and took off down the field, his muscles aching as he forced his body to move faster. Atlas saw Alex running down the right from the corner of his eye and then caught a glimpse of the ball coming toward him. He reached in front of him and hopped into the air to pull the ball into his arms. The receiver hit the ground harder than intended, and he was a bit dazed when he returned to his feet, but he realized the crowd was booing.
Atlas turned to stare at the jumbotron as they replayed his catch and realized with horror that he had jumped too late and caught the ball outside the endzone. The young man’s head hung as the final whistle was heard across the field, and then his first pro game was over. Atlas removed his helmet, wiped the sweat from his eyes with a soft sigh, and headed toward the tunnel when someone called his name. He glanced over his shoulder and put on his usual smile when he found Danielle and her camera crew coming his way.
“It’s great to see you here, Atlas. I’m happy the draft worked out for you,” she began, giving him a sparkling reporter’s grin. “I am sorry about the loss, though; I’m sure it’s not what you wanted today.”
“No one wants to lose,” he replied, “Not me, not my teammates, and especially not the coaches. Despite the loss, we didn’t give up and held our own the best we could.” Some could have performed better, he thought, picturing every interception and sack.
“With Lukas Wall being out for at least the next six weeks, does that mean we’ll see more of you on the field?” Atlas ran a hand through his slick hair and looked to the sideline for a split second.
“I’m not sure what the coaches plan to do, but I’ll play my part. I’m sure we’ll be working hard this week, so I’ll be ready for whatever comes next Sunday. I hope all the fans show up next weekend because I’m sure we’re gonna show out.” Danielle’s smile turned into something knowing, and he wasn’t sure whether to be scared.
“On the subject of fans, we have a little message for you.”
“Yeah?” It wasn’t uncommon for some reporters to bring special messages from parents or partners, always wanting to see some raw emotion, but Atlas had never gotten one himself.
“Thank you for the kind offer of a season ticket. I can’t say I know much about football, but catching a game after the tour sounds like fun,” Danielle read, her eyes darting up to no doubt watch the confusion on his face. “I’m sorry I can’t make your first game, but I wish you luck and hope to see it in person once I’m back in the States. See you soon, Savannah Summers.” It felt like the air had been knocked out of his chest as the words repeated in his mind. See you soon…
“I, uh, wasn’t really expecting her to even know about the game,” Atlas finally admitted, looking up to give a real smile.
“Really?” Danielle asked, her tone sounding genuinely confused.
“Yeah, I mean c’mon. She’s a real celebrity, and I’m just a fan, so I didn’t really hope for anything when I made the spontaneous invite.”
“Well, the internet played a small part in all of this,” she stated. “A few people posted your invite, talking about how sweet it was, and then it began to reach further. The video went viral in April when the other fans found it, so I assume you were too busy to scroll through Twitter.”
“Yeah, I can’t say I spend too much time on social media. It’s pretty crazy that other fans are why she got the invite, though, but I’m thankful. All I had was a ticket and a dream,” he joked, though it was more accurate than anyone knew.
“It looks like your dream might just come true next weekend,” Danielle said, and it lit something warm inside his chest. It seemed like the smoldering embers of his dreams were starting to glow again.