Those ripples were felt in a Phoenix, a relatively short distance away compared to some of their greater reaches.
Jackson Woods sat in front of his TV, staring as the scene transitioned from the Dons walking off field, back to a broadcast booth where a bunch of "analysts" gave their thoughts on the game. But Jackson didn't hear them. Ty's words were still echoing in his head.
Jackson wasn't alone. Tommy wasn't even the only other spectator with him. The room was slightly cramped, as spacious as it was for a young teen's bedroom. Kenny was there, as was Shane, Rudy, and even Freddy. All were staying the night; all had come to study the Dons vs Cobras game.
Jackson had hoped the good company would help keep him impartial to the game. After all, it didn't matter that Ty was playing, there were still twenty-one other players to watch on the field at any one time. And it had worked for a while.
The mood was good in the beginning. It was a weekend, so without anything else to do, the boys had arrived early. A Nintendo Switch provided party games, with Mario Kart and Smash Bros., leading to chaos that quickly went from casual to competitive. (Shane ended up being the worst at either game, whilst Tommy won most races, though Freddy was UNBEATABLE in Smash.)
They ordered pizza, and went through multiple bottles of soda even before the game began. Spirits were soaring. So much so Jackson almost forgot the purpose of the sleepover in the first place, and was wishing Eddie, Marcus and Sachin could've been there as well.
But they weren't there JUST for fun. Every moment could be a learning moment, and the game was a wealth of knowledge just waiting to be tapped.
The fun carried over at the start. It was surprisingly more defensive-oriented than he'd expected, though maybe that shouldn't have been a surprise with Ty involved; when the first quarter ended scoreless, he worried they might be watching a masterclass where Ty dismantled and shut-out what was possibly the best offence in the nation.
Rudy and even Kenny joked about Richaun being worse than they expected, and Rudy even said he'd do better, any of them would. Kenny went quiet after that. It was easy to tell he was also worried about how strong Ty was.
Hidden history or not, if they wanted to get to the national trophy, they'd have to go through Ty at one point, and if he could shut-out someone like Richaun … it was a scary thought.
Whilst the game, and Ty and Richaun's duel, wasn't a shut-out, it was still a masterclass by the Don in the end.
For around ninety percent of the game, it was a masterclass from both sides. The Dons' aerial expertise had been shutdown, but they were still fighting hard on the ground; the Cobras' defence had a hard task, but managed to utilise their speed to get stops when they could, even in situations that favoured the Dons, yet their offence let them down time and time again.
Not for lacking of trying, however, the Cobras' offence was going up against what was most likely the best defence in the nation, and they had to do so with their best target being neutralised for large portions of the game. Lucky for them, their best WEAPON was Colby Jenkins, and through his excellence they managed a few touchdowns, even with a neutralised ground game; the teams were like inverses of each other.
Ty led the Dons' defence in their aerial blockade, though it was on the ground where their true dominance shone through. The Cobras had run over all of their opponents, literally, before the Dons.
The back and forth between the Cobras' Receivers and Dons' DBs was a battle to behold, and Colby Jenkins was almost the deciding factor, before the numbers became too much for him, and all his openings were shut down. Then Richaun woke up.
He'd shown rare flashes of brilliance throughout the game, but even they drew complaints from Tommy. Such things as: "Richaun was a bad role model." And "Do everything after his release, and before the catch, but ignore the fighting in between." Or, and this was Jackson's favourite, "The coach shouldn't let him get away with that crap."
Though Jackson had to admit, he could see his brother's point. Richaun was a GREAT Receiver, even with Ty getting the better of him most of the time—all the more horrifying that Ty was able to so effectively neutralise a player of that calibre—but he was just so … violent. Excessively so. And his awakening only exacerbated the problem.
Despite clearly being a top receiver, perhaps even the best in the nation, it was like the rules didn't matter to him. Actually, it was more like he was spitting on the rules. Yet, somehow, he managed to disrespect them as much as possible without ever fully crossing the line.
As hard as it was, you had to take the good with the bad, and focus on the good while blocking out the bad. Jackson tried. It could've been easier with the banter from his friends, but the longer the game went on, the quieter everyone become; they were so focused on the game, at times they forgot they shared the room with five others.
The longer Jackson watched in those closing moments, the more Richaun's play style reminded him of Ty's. They weren't the inverse of each other like one might initially think upon this revelation, one of them had just decided to play WR and the other CB.
By the final whistle, it was hard to tell if Ty had made the right choice in his selection, or if he was simply the superior version of the two. Most likely, it was both.
Surprisingly, Shane was the only one who didn't jump at THAT moment during the game. You could almost convince yourself the crack had only come from the contact to the helmet in the first place, but it was too heavy, too resounding … too crunching. All of the boys, as Receivers themselves, could sympathise with even Richaun for that split second—Jackson most of all; his leg ached as well as his wrist.
The fact Richaun continued on was jaw-dropping. Both in stupidity, but worst of all, in how admirable it was. How could someone like HIM be admirable? That admiration evaporated immediately on Ty's interception, however.
Rudy had jumped up, proclaiming Richaun had intentionally stomped on Ty's leg. Neither Kenny nor Jackson wanted to go to bat for Ty, but even they had to admit it looked bad; karma would come to Ty but it shouldn't be like that, not because someone even worse had intentionally hurt him. As vile as Ty's attitude was on the field, he never tried to hurt anybody … not physically anyway.
Shane gave Richaun the benefit of doubt, though it was clear he was struggling with what his eyes saw, and what his heart wanted to believe about the type of people who would don the helmet and pads of such a great, honourable game; his kindness was almost naive at times. Maybe it was an easier pill to swallow when Ty was seemingly unaffected by the dirty play.
The Dons' game-tying touchdown was one Jackson knew he'd have to rewatch over and over to understand the greatness of it. There was such simplicity on the surface, but really that was just obscuring the incredible set-up and selling the whole team did to give themselves that perfect chance. It was like their whole offensive game had led to THAT play.
The overtime period was basically a footnote with an essay's worth of valuable film. Somehow, Ty's walk-off pick-six felt like an underwhelming and anticlimactic end. At least to Jackson.
And then came the crash. Like they'd actually been playing themselves, or watching their teammates play in such a tense and tight game. Their energy was suddenly drained.
Chatter continued for a little while after the game was over, though no-one had the mental capacity to provide greater commentary than to simply say how amazing or spectacular or fucking legendary what they'd just watched was. It was such a great thing Nationals had been started up again, and they DEFINITELY had to be a part of next year's tournament.
Then there was Ty's announcement. His message to anyone who even thought about pulling on a pair of cleats and stepping onto HIS field.
Jackson was still sitting in shocked silence; Freddy looked as if he might not show up to next season's tryouts after all; Kenny was about to rip up Jackson's sheets his fists were clenched that hard; Tommy looked like a disappointed father, somehow; more strangely, Shane looked … INTRIGUED; and Rudy was the only one to verbalise his disgust.
'Yeah, this guy's an arrogant piece of shit. We need to make it to Nationals next year just so we can slap that smug grin of his face.'
Ty's comments had killed the mood completely. Worst of all, could what he said even be considered hyperbolic? After his display, he had every right to brag about being the best. What other CB could've done what he'd done that game?
After that, the boys moved out of Jackson's room, and into the living room, bringing a couple of mattresses with them as they set up shop on the floor and couch.
When talking of sleepovers and teenage boys, it was a relatively early night, yet it'd felt like a long day … still, as was always typical of such exciting days, despite the tiredness Jackson felt, when all was shut off, and his head finally hit his pillow, a second surge of energy spread through him.
No matter how long or tightly he shut his eyes, images kept flashing across the back of his lids, showing replays from the game.
He wasn't the only one restlessness had taken hold of. Kenny tossed and turned even worse. On one such frustrated turn, the two locked eyes.
'Can't sleep.' There was only a hint of question in Jackson's whisper.
Kenny shook his head, the subtle movement almost unnoticeable in the dark. 'I can't get that game out of my head.'
'Same.' Jackson's glanced around the room, peering at shadowy lumps draped over the couch and the other mattress. No-one else stirred. 'It's Tyrese, isn't it?'
Not even the darkness answered his question. Kenny lay still and silent for such a long time, Jackson would've thought Kenny finally fallen asleep if not for his open eyes staring back at him. He sighed before speaking, voice even quieter, so that Jackson had to strain his ears even though they were sharing the same mattress.
'I used to live in Cali,' Kenny began, 'we only moved here two years ago. … I played football back then, too.'
Long pauses lingered between each sentence, as if speaking the words were as painful as pulling teeth. Part of Jackson wanted to tell him he didn't have to say anything if it was still too much … another more curious, and possibly selfish, part forced him to keep quiet and listen.
'…I thought we were pretty good, I mean, we were good enough to make the championship, and I thought I was a large part of that. Pretty sure the records I broke would back that up. But when it was time for the championship game, that's when I met him.'
Jackson didn't need to clarify who HIM was.
'He was an unassuming kid, you've met him right? He still seems that way at first, but it was even more confusing back then. He was tiny. Like he should've been in elementary school still. Even then he'd be skinny. But his arms, even his legs, they were too long for him, like they were the only part of him that was growing.'
Kenny sighed heavily, like he was struggling over the next part. But even in the darkness, Jackson could see it was regret, not pain filling Kenny's eyes.
'Then there was me. With all those records I was making and breaking, I thought I was the biggest star in the world, the next big thing, the next goat. It didn't take long to find out Tyrese was the real star… or maybe a star-killer.
'The game was over on the first play. The exact way he'd ended that game against the Cobras—a pick-six. One he ripped right from my hands.'
One of Kenny's hands came up between them, closing around nothing; he could still feel the ball slipping through his fingers like sand.
'It was the first time someone had ever snatched the ball away from me like that. I'd had people intercept passes, but this was different. It was the way he tore it from me … and how happy he looked.
'That moment. It wasn't even a second long, yet it felt like an hour. I can still picture it in my head. His grin. I'll never forget that. The way it changed his face, changed what he was. I mean, he looked a little weird, sure, but he wasn't a freak, just a … lanky, right, yeah, a lanky kid. But that grin… it was fucked up.'
Kenny shuddered, and Jackson couldn't be sure he didn't mirror it.
'That grin, and his dead, black eyes finally lighting up for that moment and ONLY that moment, it has to be like looking into the eyes of a shark right before they bite you.'
There was no denying Jackson's shudder then. He was ice cold, no matter how tightly he pulled the covers around himself. Even with them tucked under his chin he was still chilled down to his toes.
Kenny's story—his description—it brought back such vivid memories of his own encounter with Tyrese. A skinny little kid turned monster in the blink of an eye. And somehow, watching the Dons' recent games, Ty seemed even worse, like he'd evolved beyond that dreadful, fear-inducing state. If that was even possible.
'The rest of the game was a nightmare,' Kenny eventually continued. 'I felt like I was suffocating with every play. He must've had five interceptions that day, AT LEAST. It wasn't because of bad passes, either. I couldn't do anything right. Everything that'd ever worked for me before, every little trick and route I'd use to beat every opponent I'd come across before … none of it did anything to him; he saw through it all.
'I didn't get a single catch that day. And the team—the team that'd had the best offence the school had ever seen—we didn't even score a single point.'
Kenny turned onto his back, staring up at the ceiling; a black sea which was a dark—and fitting—canvas for his recollections.
'I stopped going to school after that game. How could I show my face around there? I'd been talking so much shit, promising to bring back the trophy, promising them I'd be the best, and I'd never forget them after making it to the NFL … then I went and failed as hard as possible. Could anyone even be more embarrassing? It would've been hell, and worst of all, I would've deserved every bit of it.'
Jackson laughed, a weak, mirthless thing. It was like Kenny was pulling the same feelings straight from HIS memories too.
'You should laugh,' Kenny said, looking at him, he was smiling now. 'I overreacted so damn much. I was so stupid I didn't even wanna go to the beach. I still kinda don't! I'm legit scared of sharks now.' He laughed at himself. 'I used to love the beach. Still do a bit, but no fucking way am I going in the water. Imagine what a real shark would be like.'
'Probably nicer to look at than Tyrese,' Jackson said.
Both boys laughed, full of humour, then quickly stifled themselves, remembering the slumbering boys around them.
'We moved away soon after that game,' Kenny said, back to whispering—for the moment, at least. 'My Mom and Dad wanted somewhere quiet, though they still wanted good schools. They settled for Arcadia High. I don't know if they like the area though, they might go off to Tucson or maybe even Vegas after I graduate.'
'Vegas? Doesn't really strike me as the quiet retirement kind of city.'
Kenny shrugged. 'Maybe they just didn't like the people in Cali.'
'Maybe they'll go to Texas, don't a lot of people do that? Or Florida. Everyone goes to Florida when they retire.'
'Eh. Anyway. After the championship game, even after the move, I couldn't think of football without thinking about Tyrese. I didn't even know if it was still my dream to make it to the NFL. I didn't play in my last year of middle school but that changed when I met Coach Otsen … and YOU.'
'Me?' Jackson blinked. How could he have inspired anyone? Especially after … that would've been when he was dealing with his own issues regarding Tyrese.
'Yes, you. Don't act surprised. I know that you were dealing with your own shit back then, but you were still showing up, you were still working hard, harder than anyone else. I could see how much potential you had. I knew you could be great. And Coach Otsen? There was the perfect coach, someone who wanted the best for every single one of his players. Someone who knew how to push them to the heights of their potential and even further beyond, no matter what it took, as long as they were willing to put in the effort.
'I knew, if I could just keep up with you, if I listened to Coach, did what he said, and always pushed myself to be better, I knew I could find my groove again, and overtake you and EVERYONE. I could become the star again, the record-breaker like I was before, and get my revenge on Tyrese.' He grinned. 'Which is exactly what I'm gonna do. It doesn't matter if it takes one more year, or two, fuck it, even if I don't get my chance during high school, I'll keep grinding in college. One day, I'll meet Tyrese on a football field again, and on that day, it'll be HIM getting embarrassed.'
'Can you jerks keep it down?' Rudy groaned, voice heated, but untouched by grogginess.
Jackson winced, looking around again. Rudy was glaring at him and Kenny with alert eyes from the couch, whilst Shane was resting on his elbows, watching them with an expression hidden by shadows. Snores still filled the room, so he knew Freddy was still deep asleep.
'Like you could hear us over your own snoring,' Kenny said.
'Yeah, good one, only I was awake the whole time, dumbass!'
'Sorry,' Jackson said, though Kenny didn't apologise, so Jackson turned to Shane and apologised again on his behalf.
'Yeah, yeah, whatever,' Rudy said. 'Look, I don't know what your deal is with this Tyrese kid, just 'cause he beat your ass real bad back in middle school, but I promise you won't need to wait that long to get your revenge. Next year, that's how long you'll have to wait. When we make Nationals, even if we have to go all the way to the finals to do it, I'll make sure we squash this shitty little fucker.'
It was Shane's turn to laugh. 'I don't know about this revenge stuff, but if that's what's going to motivate you all, then we best use that fuel as productively as we can. I'd be honoured to go to Nationals with you all. And next year, when you're on the team, and we're all fighting side by side, I know I can right my wrongs, and bring Coach Otsen the championship he deserves.'
Jackson liked the sound of that. If they were to get to Nationals next year, winning State was … well, not exactly the first step, but it was definitely a big one.
'Boys…' Mrs Woods' voice came from the stairs. It was in full "Mom mode", sharp and stern enough to tell there'd be no arguing had. 'It's very late, and long since when you should've all quietened down and gone to sleep. I'll only tell you this once, so don't make me come back down here.'
'Sorry, Mom,' Jackson said, though he was joined by a chorus of apologies from the others; Freddy only mumbled and whined in his sleep.
'Good. Now goodnight.'
'Goodnight!' chirped four parrots.
As her footsteps faded back upstairs, the boys settled back into their places. Jackson lay flat on his back. The dark ceiling gave way to stars. Trophies and goals he could reach for. Constellations that told a story.
As he drifted off, a visage of him hoisting the state championship above his head, turned to a dream of the team entering Nationals with a date with destiny in the shape of Tyrese and the Dons.