I have three basic rules to live by
Don't draw attention to myself.
Make it through another year.
My brother's friends are off limits.
My junior year, each and every single one of those rules will be broken.
**~~**
Blaine has always been the type to...
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"What the hell are you doing," Gilly shouted from the sidelines. The other coaches paced anxiously as the older man stalked toward us. For the last hour, we'd been running the same three plays. They were the money plays, according to Coach. That is if we could nail them down. They were simple enough.
Fiji was a running play. Instead of lining up for the pass, the quarterback will fall back out of the pocket and shift opposite of the receiver of his choosing. That put more distance between them and the player in scoring position. Corey believes it will work like our last fake out against St. Peter's. While the entire field moves to the closest receiver, the QB can line up the long shot across the field.
Ohio was a standard handoff. The two running backs crossed simultaneously around the QB. Essentially forming an "x" as one goes in front of the QB for the fake and the other goes behind to receive the actual hand off. The hope is that the confusion might be enough to sneak the ball through the line. All we would need was a gap. Joseph seemed to be doing fine at making that happen.
The play we were having a problem with was the running one; Canada. Shane wasn't quick like Blaine was. She wasn't as confident as he was. Especially since she knew this was for the biggest game most of us would ever get to be a part of. She'd been a wreck at practice all week. The chances of her playing during the game was slim. Coach didn't want to put the pressure on her. Not yet. If Shane didn't learn to pick up his feet though, that time will come sooner than any of us wanted.
"Russel. When I say be quick, I mean quick." My friend's head dropped forward, the weight of the helmet making it drop lower. My arms were crossed loosely over my chest and pads. The line men on both sides of the line of scrimmage were panting. Hands on their knees or on top of their helmets. Any way for them to catch as much breath as they could before Coach went back to drilling us.
"You stuck in concrete or something?" He was still shouting as he spun around to eye us all in turn. "Sloths could smoke all of your asses."
My gaze darted to Luke as he pulled off his helmet and shook out his nasty, sweat drenched hair. Blaine glared at the back of his head while putting her hands on her padded hips. He was getting ready to say something when a shrill chirp echoed behind all of us.
Coach Corey was waving his hand in the air, calling us all to attention. None of us moved until Coach Gilly took the first step. Fear and exhaustion keeping us in place. I had never seen Coach this worked up. He was always the one on the sidelines that silently glared at us. The other coaches were the ones who would lay into us for screwing up.
"We've got two more practices until we head north. Do you think we can get it together before then," Gilly growled, his back to us as he asked.
"Yes, Coach," we shouted in return.
"I don't think you can. None of you have proven to me, or this staff, that you are ready for this." He spun around ready to put the fear of god into us. Jabbing a finger in the direction we'd be traveling in, he narrowed his eyes on each of us. "Going to state isn't about privilege. There isn't some pansy ass invitation. It is earned. And from what I've seen these last few days, you haven't earned shit. There are no participation trophies at the end of this road. It's all or nothing. So, I'm going to ask you one last time. Can we get our shit together and prove it to them that we earned that spot? Can we prove it to them that this wasn't a fluke? Prove it to the world that we are in this for that final win of the season?"
