After the JV team’s victory, it was time for the main event.
When the JV team cleared out of the locker room, the varsity players took over. Coach Long stood amongst them, back in charge.
‘Remember what we practised. Don’t get flustered, stay calm, think clearly. All we have to do is see through their tricks, expect the unexpected, and nothing can stop us.’
Ty wasn’t worried about whatever “tricks” the Gauchos might’ve been planning. He knew they couldn’t lose if the JV team didn’t. And besides, all he needed to do was shut down number 80.
‘It’s the last game of the season, boys, so let’s make it a good one. Go out there and send the fans home happy with another win!’
Ty kept to himself throughout the warm-up. When the Gauchos filed out of their locker room, he gave number 80 a cursory glance, though he didn’t get a good read of them from afar.
They were taller than Ty—that was to be expected—but not by much. Another freshman by the looks of it.
Soon, it was time for the coin toss, though aside from the Dons losing, it was uneventful. The Gauchos were the ones to defer the opening kick this time, so the Dons started on offence.
On the kickoff, Chris brought the ball out to the 24-yard line, and that’s where the Dons started the opening drive.
The offence was clicking, and a 12-yard reception by Stephen gave them all the momentum they needed.
Jay kept his cool and was able to make adjustments at the line after seeing how the defence set up. He saw through their tells, and knew when pressure was coming, or when they were backing off, even if it didn’t look like anything had changed with their formation.
He saw it in their hesitancy or their eagerness. If they were coming with pressure, he could see the doubt playing in the backs of their minds, “What if we don’t get there in time? What if he throws it over the top?”
Conversely, when they were faking pressure, they were like a loaded spring, ready to launch back and surprise him, eager for him to fall for their trick so they could get their hands on an errant pass when he cracked under the perceived pressure.
The differences were subtle, but they were there.
He knew when to pass short and fast, or when he had time for something deep. He knew when they should run instead, and when the inside would be open, or the outside would be their best bet. He propelled the team into field goal range … but when they entered the red zone, their struggles began.
They always struggled in the red zone where the field was shorter and more congested. But, outside of those regular issues, it also became harder for Jay to tell what the defence was going to do. Their tells became less obvious, and sometimes they were false, and the opposite of what he was expecting happened.
The Dons weren’t able to progress any further, and had to settle for a field goal. But at least they scored.
After the following kickoff—which resulted in a touchback—Ty finally came face-to-face with number 80.
They reminded Ty of a slice of white bread. They were plain, milquetoast, boring, but still incredibly hard to read. They didn’t say anything, and barely even acknowledged Ty was standing in front of them. Ty had to wonder if this was really their best Receiver. The coming plays did nothing to clear his doubts.
At first, the Gauchos had little struggle with moving the ball. Whilst Ty was focused solely on number 80 and did a perfect job of shutting him down, the rest of the defence wasn’t handling their responsibilities nearly as cleanly.
Short passes peppered the opposite side of the field, and the Gauchos even carved up the field with their run game, slowly but surely working their way across half-field. And number 80 hadn’t done anything except act as a decoy to keep Ty out of the play.
Ty was quickly fed up with how things were going. He stomped back to the huddle after another Gauchos first down. ‘Can you guys hurry up and play some defence? It’s not fucking hard!’
‘Hey, we’re trying, fuckface. The only reason you’re doing good is ‘cause they haven’t even gone your way yet,’ Deshaun said.
‘They haven’t gone my way because I’m actually covering my man. They HAVE to look at the other side of the field, where they see YOUR man wide fucking open.’
‘Fuck you.’
‘Hey! Yelling at each other isn’t doing anything to help,’ JJ said. ‘We’ve practised for this. We need to calm down and stop jumping the gun. We can’t predict these guys, but we don’t need to, just watch and react, don’t let them drag you out of position. We’ve got this.’
Whether it was Ty snapping at them that angered the Dons, or JJ’s speech which settled their nerves, SOMETHING sparked life into them. After that huddle, they clamped the Gauchos.
Things quickly came to third down. The Gauchos still had 7 yards to go. They finally looked to number 80.
Number 80 ran with more intensity as he came out of the gates. Even so, Ty stuck with him the whole way.
He shimmied out but slanted in; Ty was right in front of him. He cut sharply and turned back outside; Ty turned with him and was right on his hip as the QB lobbed the ball into the air.
Ty leapt high, hand outstretched, and swatted the ball out of bounds.
Number 80 grunted as he landed. He looked at Ty, not a glare, just a look. Ty waited for him to say something, but he never did. He brushed by without a word. “Boring and plain.”
Ty stared at the back of his head as he walked away. Ty would get him to react by the end of the game. He’d watch that plain, milquetoast face distort into despair, and he’d relish every second of it.
The Gauchos punted the ball away, and the Dons started their second drive.
Again, they had success moving the ball at first, but once again, when they reached the red zone, it was like they ran into a brick wall.
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The tells that Jay relied upon to know what was coming, they vanished. The defence could stack one side of the field to keep Stephen in check without leaving as many holes thanks to the shorter field. The same could be said for their run defence, it was easier to stack the box and move the whole defence closer to the Line when they didn’t have to worry about someone getting over the top.
No matter what the Dons tried, they couldn’t break through. Aiming for the back of the end zone with a longer pass over the top took too long, and the pressure got to Jay before the play could properly develop.
If they tried for something quick and short, expecting more pressure, then the defence would sink and cover everything underneath. Jay couldn’t wrap his head around it, it was like they were a whole new defence in the red zone.
Again, the Dons could only come away with a field goal, but that extended their lead to 6–0.
Ty was soon on the field again, and this time, Ty wouldn’t wait for the bland puppet to make the first move. ‘You need to stop running away,’ he snarled.
Number 80 blinked. ‘Actually, I think we’ve had more passes than runs so far.’
The response stunned Ty, he couldn’t tell if number 80 was serious, or if he was poking fun at Ty. Either way, it kept Ty silent until the Gauchos snapped the ball.
Coincidentally, running was exactly what the Gauchos tried with their next play. They sent the RB on a long stretch to the outside, heading Ty’s way.
Number 80 engaged Ty, pushing up right into his chest to keep him out of the RB’s path. Ty broke away from the block at the last second. One arm shot out, right in front of the RB. Ty snatched onto the RB’s jersey and yanked him down into the turf.
‘Ah, my bad, Joey.’ Number 80 helped his teammate up.
‘Nah, nah, you’re good, Allen, that was on me. The fucker surprised me, didn’t expect him to lunge out like that. I didn’t think I was close enough,’ Joey said.
Joey was a restless kind of guy. His wild eyes darted around constantly, and he kept bouncing on his toes even when he was standing still. He was taller than Ty by a couple of inches, but just as skinny.
Ty picked himself up, staring at Allen. ‘I told you to stop running, Allen,’ he spat the name.
‘Haha, you did!’ Allen gave Ty a pearly white smile. ‘But, should you be giving your opponent advice in the middle of a game?’
Ty kept staring, dumbfounded. ‘The fuck is your problem?’
‘My problem? Well, right now I’m trying to figure out how I can get past you.’ Like a puppy without a single care in the world, Allen trotted back to his team’s huddle, leaving Ty even more confused and annoyed.
The Gauchos targeted Allen with their next play. This time it was a quick slant, and Ty was able to slip his arm around Allen’s slightly larger frame and knock the ball from his hands.
The Gauchos were in a load of trouble, on the verge of a three-and-out. Ty expected them to come back his way. After all, Ricky said they went to Allen when they were backed into a corner.
Not this time, this time it was a run—No! It was Play-Action, and the QB kept the ball. Ty stuck with Allen who sprinted down the sideline … but the ball never came their way.
Instead, it went to the middle of the field, just over JJ’s outstretched hand. The pass was successful, and the reception resulted in a gain of 11 yards, giving the Gauchos a new set of downs.
‘Meirda.’ JJ returned to the huddle. ‘My bad, I shouldn’t have gotten sucked in by that fake.’
‘It’s fine. Just keep on them, they’ll fuck up soon,’ Ty said.
‘Hell yeah, that’s the spirit,’ Donte said, slapping Ty on the back.
Before they could get another chance to force the Gauchos into making that fuck up, the quarter ended. The Dons walked back to their bench, keeping their heads high.
‘Great job out there. Keep that up and we’ll come away with the win,’ Coach Hoang said, keeping things brief. He didn’t have much else to say to the defence. They were playing great.
Coach Long, on the other hand, was with Coach Norman as they stood in front of Jay and the other members of the offence. They needed to find a way to break through that last line of defence and turn those field goals into touchdowns.
‘They’re ain’t nothing to worry about.’ Jay spread out, lying on the bench. ‘…We’re winning, ain’t we?’
‘We are for now, but one score and that can all change,’ Coach Long pointed out.
‘Then we’ll score another field goal. … ‘Sides, it’s not like the defence is gonna roll over and let ‘em score whenever they want. … I bet we’d win right now, even without scoring again.’
‘You can’t rely on the defence like that,’ Coach Norman said. ‘They won’t always be able to hold the other team to zero points, or just field goals.’
Jay didn’t say anything further. He glanced over at JJ and Ty. Sure, they might not always stop the other team, but Jay couldn’t see how they’d lose with those two.
The Gauchos resumed their drive in the second quarter with a run up the gut, though they were only able to gain a single yard.
Their second play was a shallow Cross, but JJ was all over it, and though the pass was successful, it only resulted in another short gain. Once again, the Gauchos found themselves on third down.
‘Come on, you gotta bail them out,’ Ty said. ‘They’re all counting on you.’
‘Maybe,’ Allen said. ‘Maybe not. But if they do call my number, I’ll have to do my best.’
The QB snapped the ball and Allen charged right into Ty’s chest, pushing him back. He was blocking, it was another run. Ty wouldn’t fall for it. As Allen tried to slip away from the block, Ty kept right on top of him.
The QB came away with the ball, it was another Play-Action pass, and he was looking Allen’s way, just like Ty had hoped.
Allen crossed through the middle of the field, heading deep on his Post route. Ty was on his hip the whole way.
The QB flung the ball; Ty made his move. He cut in front of Allen’s path. His eyes were locked on the ball as it floated closer and he drifted right into its path. It was HIS.
He was blindsided and knocked down from behind. Another set of hands reached the ball first, plucking it out of the air.
It was another Don. They tumbled to the ground after their collision with Ty, but they maintained control of the ball.
Before the Safety could jump up to their feet, Allen held them down and the play ended there.
Ty sprung to his feet. He glared at the Safety. They stole HIS ball. That was HIS interception. And if they hadn’t gotten in his way, it could’ve been HIS touchdown.
Ty yanked the Safety to their feet and pulled them close as he stared into their dark, sunken eyes. One black eye was deep in a pool of shadow, the other in a lake of milk as a patchy streak of pale flesh dripped from their temple to their cheek. ‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing?’ Ty said.
‘Getting an interception. ‘What’s it look like?’
‘That was MINE.’
‘I don’t see your name on it. And if it was yours, you should’ve got there first. But here, you can have it.’ They shoved the ball into Ty’s chest.
Ty stumbled back, holding onto the ball. The safety walked away but stopped and looked back. ‘We’re the Dominguez DONS. Not the Dominguez Samuelses, or Tyreses or whatever! … We’re not your supporting cast.’