Ty sat before an unfamiliar locker that was his for the next few hours. AT&T Stadium was an unfamiliar place in general, but one Ty was going to make into his kingdom before the night was through.
All the Dons sat before such lockers, most with their heads bowed as Coach Long stood in the centre of the room.
'This is everything we've worked for,' he said. 'Not just this year, not just all the years you've been with a Don—this is the moment your entire football journey has been leading to.'
He paused, trying and struggling to find the right words for such a gargantuan occasion. Was there any that could represent what so many long, strenuous journeys could mean to so many young, bright players, and how it would affect their futures?
Eventually, he smiled and said: 'Go out there and show everyone what this means to you; what this family means; what football means. Go show them how much fun this is; how you live for these moments. There are no stages too big, and no lights too bright for you boys, because you deserve the world. Bring it in.'
As the boys gathered around, they saw the tears filling Coach Long's eyes. Some quickly looked away, thrusting their fist towards the pile, others did the same but shut their eyes tight. JJ locked eyes with his coach, not fighting the tears filling his own; not hiding them. Ty's focus remained on the bundle of fists in the middle of the huddle as he placed his on top.
With a cry of "FAMILY" loud enough to shake the room, the Dons filed out into the tunnel, starting their march onto the field; family had a whole new meaning when all of theirs were waiting and watching.
When Ty stepped out of the locker room, Bella pulled him aside. Confusion spread across Ty's face, mixing with wrinkles of irritation. Coach Hoang—bringing up the rear of the team—glanced across at the two, but kept on rolling past.
Bella stared up at Ty, not saying anything. Anger flared in his dark eyes. 'What are you—'
She raised a shaky finger, and he bit back his words with a huff. His hand clenched tighter around the face-mask of his helmet by his side.
She leaned in closer, her arms following her hands over his shoulders, holding him loosely, but gently tugging him towards her. Then her lips pressed against his, softening his snarl. The kiss was quick, and light, and they both stepped back the moment it was over.
'What the fuck?' he said, confusion conquering his anger.
Her cheeks flushed darker, and she could no longer look him in the eye. Her tongue darted across her lips as if tasting him again.
'For luck,' she finally said. Then she turned and hurried down the tunnel, trailing after the rest of the team.
Ty watched her go, fading further into the light at the end of the tunnel, just as the team had. A loud cheer—no boos—reached his ears, muted but still powerful. The word "luck" echoed in his head.
He wiped his mouth with his hand, then looked down at it as if "luck" was something he could carry and behold in his palm.
Luck. The Tigers had seemed the luckiest team he'd ever met. Though how could they be if they'd run into him—their doom—so soon? If you asked Elliot Wall about it, wouldn't he say it was less luck, and more divine providence?
Before that game, Ty would've spat at the mention of "luck" or "gods" having any sway over what happens on the gridiron… but things had changed; HE had changed. Had the Dons been lucky to get past the Tigers?
What about last week's Hail Mary? Was it not luck that stopped the ball falling into the tallest player's hands, and instead into one of the shortest's in Chris?
Maybe it was luck. But even then, what could luck have done if it wasn't a tie game? What point would that lucky Hail Mary had served if Ty hadn't conquered Stringbean by his own might? Ty closed his fist around the "luck", clutching it tight. So what if he had luck on his side? He would still have to create his own, and he would still have to beat Kentavious Rice Junior if luck was to have any sway on the game.
Still holding "luck" close to his heart, he marched out of the tunnel, onto the field. A voice boomed over the PA system.
'And wearing number twenty-one for the Dominguez Dons, though he's number one where it counts, it's the Dons' Black Hole, Tyrese Samuels!'
A surprising cry of support washed over him from all angles. He didn't hear a single boo or jeer within that chorus of cheers. The fans were there for one thing—football. They wanted to see who the best were, and though the Longhorns were the hometown favourites, there was no hostility in this crowd for any of the boys on either team.
Ty soaked it in. This was the grandest stage possible, the greatest coliseum he'd ever stepped foot in. Nothing else mattered but the performance he put on. It was a good reminder that the grudge he held with Kentavious Senior and Junior both stemmed from competitiveness. All that mattered was proving who was the best. It was everything Ty had dreamed of. Sixty minutes stood between him and his ultimate goal. It was time to prove, once and for all, he was the best in the world.
###
Kentavious Rice Junior stood just before the light at the gaping exit of the tunnel, his teammates waiting impatiently behind him. The darkness was a shield against recognition, yet it didn't stop the sound. It was the loudest crowd he'd ever heard. Should he have expected cheers for the Dons? Everything in the lead up to the game had made him expect the opposite. Yet Senior's manipulations had failed; the crowd knew the Dons deserved to be here …maybe they even deserved to win.
He looked back. Morrison was the closest Longhorn, but after his smile, it was only scowls. They were ready. A football player couldn't hold any compassion for his opponents, lest he have mercy for them. Mercy was a mistake you couldn't afford on the gridiron. The Dons had earned their right to fight for the National Championship, but it would be a fight, because the Longhorns deserved it just as much. Kentavious turned his back on the waiting crowd—on his enemies—and addressed his teammates.
'You probably don't want to hear this from me, but I'm the only one who can say it. This is my team, but only so much as its yours. Yet if you believed the bullshit so many people have been spouting recently, they'd have you think I was the only star; the only name worth knowing on this team. Today is your day—your chance—to prove everyone wrong. Your families are watching, they know how much of a champion you are. It's time to show the rest of the world why you're the best.'
Some faces lightened, though other scowls only hardened. It didn't matter. As long as they were motivated, Kentavious had done his job. He couldn't blame them for getting more upset at his insolence. What right did he—a nepo-baby freshman—have to give them a motivational speech? He'd show them what gave him the right; he'd show them all he was the best in the world.
'Hell of a speech, KJ,' Morrison said. 'And you think you don't deserve that "C" on your jersey.' He laughed, slapping the symbol on Kentavious's chest, which told everyone he was a captain.
Kentavious's only response was a muttered "thanks" before he turned to face the light, and his enemies. Not a hint of mercy or remorse, touched his eyes. He was finally ready to face his greatest challenge. So he charged out of the tunnel and into the light. Behind him, the Longhorns surged forward, each seeing their own goals within that light.
For a junior, standing just under six-feet tall, he saw a mountainous opponent before him. Stephen Day would be his tallest challenge yet, but he was determined to prove size didn't matter, and it was HE who was the greatest CB, not Tyrese Samuels.
Jimmy London, a senior Safety, had similar goals. The Dons' Receivers may not be the best individually, but together they were a force with chemistry otherwise unseen at this level. He needed to shut them down completely.
A slender sophomore had already proven he wasn't "too skinny" to play MLB, but now he had his chance to go up against the best, and show everyone HE captained the best defence in high school, NOT Julian Jones.
A short freshman with grey eyes, set deep within a pronounced face, stared at Kentavious's back with utter contempt. This was supposed to be his breakout year. HE was supposed to be the greatest WR. Today was his chance to prove he was; he WOULD force Ty to face him.
With determined, thunderous steps, a heavy-set senior rushed into the light. Linemen were always underappreciated, but on this national stage, he finally had the chance to get the recognition he deserved. The Longhorns' offence was number one only because HE was the linchpin of it.
Every Longhorn held a similar belief, and that's why Kentavious's words—as unfitting a messenger as he was—resonated so deeply with them. This was THEIR moment, and nobody could take that from them, not even their own teammates.
###
'Fuckin' hell,' Stephen said. However, even he didn't hear hear his words over the ground-shaking roar coming from the crowd.
The Longhorns had arrived, and while the fans were supportive of the Dons, they made their allegiance clear with the sheer difference in volume of their cries for both sides.
Ty stood, unfazed by the noise, knowing the silence that would follow in their victory would be made all the sweeter by this raucous display.
Both sides finished their final warm-ups, and from the few glances Ty took across the field, it seemed Kentavious was making it a point not to look their—specifically HIS—way. Plenty of the other Longhorns looked, and while the crowd might've been happy and cheerful towards both sides, it was clear there was no love lost between the actual players.
During this time, the Dons' coaches repeatedly stated the boys needed to just focus on themselves. There would be plenty of time to worry about the Longhorns after the game had started.
Thankfully, that start was rapidly approaching. After a wait that had felt like months instead of a week—perhaps because someone like Ty had been waiting for this moment for months, if not longer—the captains were called to the middle of the field for the coin toss.
Jimmy, Kentavious, and Morrison were the three representatives from the Longhorns. On the other side, JJ and Jay got the call like usual. Then, after some deliberation between the coaches, Ty was urged to join them.
Morrison was the only one of the six wearing a smile as even Jay had his game face on, staring stoically as he assessed the competition before him.
'Hey, how's it going? Let's have a great game!' Morrison said, stepping forward to shake everyone's hand with both of his. A smile brushed JJ's face for a moment as he shook hands, repeating the pleasant sentiment. Jay remained businesslike, surprising Morrison with his grip-strength as he shook firmly. Ty, however, ignored him, and stepped up to Kentavious.
The officials were on edge, moving closer, ready to intervene if need be, but though Ty was glaring up at his rival, and Kentavious met that glare with one of his own, not backing down, the hostility wasn't close to evolving into violence.
Ty slowly extended his hand, offering it to Kentavious, who took it. Ty stared deep into his eyes, searching for pity that didn't exist. Good.
'I'm going to beat you, and it won't be because of that weak link,' Ty said, nodding towards Morrison. 'I'm going to beat YOU.'
Kentavious finally cracked a smile. 'Good luck; you're going to need it.'
There was that word again. But Kentavious was wrong. Luck might secure the Dons the win, but Ty would beat KENTAVIOUS all on his own.
The two stepped back from one another, Kentavious's teammates pulling him back, Ty's doing the same. Then the coin was tossed, and JJ called heads. The Longhorns won the toss, and Kentavious's smile returned.
'We'll receive.'
Ty laughed. Of course. The Longhorns would be just the team to want to send a message on the first drive rather than go for what was "optimal". Perfect.
With the Dons picking their side, the captains returned to their sidelines. Morrison was the only one to look back over his shoulder and watch his opposition retreat.
'Damn,' he said. 'Those three are COLD. And what was that shit about me being the weak link? That's pretty mean.'
'Don't worry about it,' Kentavious said. 'They're underestimating you. You can use that against them.'
'Right on.' Morrison was still grinning when they reached the sideline.
Kentavious was admonished for electing to receive the opening kickoff rather than deferring, but he'd been expecting that. It was the right choice, if not optimal in a vacuum. Football didn't take place in a vacuum. The first drive was a pivotal one, and he was determined to make a statement, as he knew Ty would be as well.
Ty had seemed focused. Antagonistic, as was his way, but not overly so. At least that's what Kentavious thought. He wished he knew more about Ty's regular behaviour. Had the press conference last night gotten to him? Was it still affecting him? He'd only know once they shared the field for real, and that time was almost upon them.
As the teams ran onto the field for the kickoff, the crowd still cheering them all on, it was time. Time for the most important game of their lives. Time to see who was the best. Did Kentavious stand alone, or did he finally have company on the mountaintop?… Or was Ty in a stratosphere all of his own?
When the ball was booted into the air, and the clock began to run, the answer was only sixty minutes away.