Sebastian Farmer, the Longhorns' undersized slot Receiver, stood in the end-zone awaiting the kick. He watched the ball, a shadow against the lights. Proving he was the greatest weapon the Longhorns had—the greatest Receiver they had—started with this kickoff return. Kentavious couldn't do this. This was Sebastian's domain, and he was going to make his impact felt.
Springing out of the end-zone, he veered to the right, angling towards the sideline, skirting past blocks and would-be tacklers. Just before he burst into the open, he was tripped up at the 33-yard line; the crowd was ecstatic with the result, even if Sebastian himself wasn't.
Ty leapt from his seat on the bench, hurrying onto the field. Coach Hoang called after him, voice almost lost under the waves of noise breaking all around the stadium. 'Kick his ass, Samuels!'
Ty smirked, but didn't look back. What did Coach think he was going to do? Hold hands with Kentavious?
The source of the crowd's roar was seeing both teams emerge onto the field for the first time. The Dons' number one defence had their number one star at their helm—likewise for the Longhorns' number one offence. The entire tournament, from the draw of all the teams, had been leading to this very moment.
After brief huddles, the teams lined up in formation opposite one another. All eyes were on Tyrese and Kentavious as they finally stood face-to-face on the gridiron.
Kentavious stared down at him from a height much taller than their physical difference. Ty didn't blink; didn't falter. Both were lax, yet poised to explode; completely calm, but with hearts racing. The game of their lives was one snap away, and Ty still clutched Bella's luck in his fist.
Herb Morrison assessed the field. A lesser man would've known they were out-of-place on this field, but not Morrison. Confidence was the greatest bridge. By the time the final whistle blew, he'd make sure nobody could even think he didn't belong on this field.
'Set-hut!'
Donte surged forward. The Longhorns, without fail, had started EVERY game with a pass; the Dons' pass-rushers had been given free reign to go all out on the opening play. He jabbed outside, then placed a hand under the Tackle's inner arm, countering inside. Trying to move the man before him was like trying to topple a ten-foot-tall block of iron.
Lachlan Lance was big, but otherwise unassuming. Upon seeing him for the first time, most were filled with nothing but misconceptions; stereotypes that couldn't be further from the truth—they saw a sweet, friendly, pudgy giant. But under his heavy brow, and bathed in the shadows of his helmet, his brown eyes became ruthless. When Lachlan laid hands on somebody, they understood there wasn't an ounce of "pudge" on him, only hardened metal.
Donte wasn't going anywhere but backwards, and the rest of the Dons' D-Line didn't fare better; Morrison was completely safe.
Ty's spear flashed at Kentavious's heart. Even if it didn't strike, it'd pull a reaction from Kentavious and give Ty valuable information. This battle was a sixty-minute marathon, not a one-hundred-yard sprint.
Kentavious didn't flinch. He didn't try to catch the spear, or even bat it inside. It was like he didn't even see it, yet he dodged it in a way that seemed as if it was part of his natural release, like he intended to move that way no matter what Ty had done.
He slipped inside, gaining leverage, sticking to his line even as Ty turned and bumped him, still within the five-yard distance for legal contact. Kentavious kept his inside leverage, racing downfield with Ty right on his hip.
Then, as if he'd glitched ninety-degrees to the right without missing a stride, Kentavious cut inside. Ty's feather-light touch on him, giving him an early warning for this near-instant cut, was the only thing that let him keep up as he lunged after Kentavious.
Below them, Sebastian flashed across the field. Deshaun trailing after him a yard behind. His route was only five-yards deep, but he was open, and JJ had to respond, dropping down to cut him off, opening space for Kentavious in behind.
Morrison flipped the ball over. It wasn't a hard pass, and all he had to do was toss it out in front of Kentavious; he knew KJ would reel it in no matter how far out in front he pushed it.
Ty was a half-step behind when he dove. He knew he wouldn't reach the ball with both hands, so he only extended one. All he needed was one hand. Thanks to Marshall Ward, all Ty needed to intercept a pass was his fingertips. He would reach the ball first; he would make the game his on the first play.
The moment the ball grazed his fingertips, just before his hand could snap closed around it, Kentavious knocked it towards the ground. In an instant, he'd transitioned from Receiver to defender, preventing Ty's interception.
Ty crashed, rolling through and back to his feet, panting hard. Kentavious slowed to a jog, then a complete stop before examining Ty coldly. He didn't look as if he'd exerted himself at all.
'Aren't I supposed to be the Cornerback? Why are you the one preventing catches, Skywalker?' Ty spat the name.
Kentavious silently turned away and strode to the Longhorns' huddle. Sebastian scowled at him the whole way. Why wouldn't he? He'd been open, yet—like always—precious Kentavious had to be prioritised, even when he was smothered. What had that got them? Nearly a turnover, that's what.
Ty and Sebastian locked eyes for only a passing glance before Ty sneered and turned away. Sebastian bristled further. He would make Ty regret that look. It was a look you gave to a bug you found on the ground; a bug so insignificant you couldn't even be bothered to squash it underfoot. Sebastian Farmer was no bug!
Ty was welcomed back to the Dons' huddle as if he had picked off that pass. All the Dons were breathing easier now the Longhorns were facing second-and-ten.
'Good shit, Freshy,' Deshaun said, clapping Ty on the back. 'I got burnt, but this dumbass QB didn't see shit. I bet we can pick him off real easy.'
'We still need to be careful,' JJ said with calm focus.
'What are they doing next?' Zayden asked. 'I bet another pass, right? You don't run on second-and-ten.'
'It doesn't matter,' JJ answered. 'Focus on our plan, and be ready for anything. We just need two more plays like that one, then our hermanos on offence can do some damage.'
Donte breathed slow and heavy, eyes locked on the Longhorns' huddle. The Longhorns' Iron Tackle was an immense obstacle before him, but it was one he knew he'd overcome. He HAD to. His teammates were relying on him. As good as they were, they'd have a tough time containing the number one offence. It was his duty to make theirs a little easier even if he could only pressure the QB.
Both huddles broke apart. The crowd was still red-hot, chanting fervently.
Cold, calculating Kentavious met raging, fiery Tyrese once more. 'I got you,' Ty said, never breaking eye-contact.
'One stop,' Kentavious whispered. Ty heard nothing but his voice. 'Do you think your deserve a medal for it? There are still three more downs; three more stops to make.'
'As soon as you start thinking its okay to lose once or twice—just because you've got another chance—its over, Skywalker. But I guess you've never had to lose even once before, so you're probably just trying to stomach your first taste of defeat.'
'If you think you've defeated me after one play, maybe I was wrong about you, Tyrese.'
Ty wanted to tell Kentavious he knew nothing about him, so of course his guesses and expectations were wrong, but Morrison cried for the snap, and all thoughts of taunting and mental warfare left Ty immediately. There was no room for them; no room for anything except Kentavious and the football.
Kentavious shot inside, bursting towards the middle at an angle. Ty withheld his spear, giving chase to cut off the quick Slant. As smooth as if he'd always been running straight ahead, Kentavious cut upfield. Ty wasn't lost, keeping with him. The movements were more seamless than any he'd seen before, but he was keeping up. Then Kentavious cut back outside, keeping a high angle on his Corner route, and Ty slipped further back. There were no warnings to Kentavious's cuts—no feints, no hesitation—and that meant there was nothing to react to until it was too late.
The ball came in, laid out towards the sideline; too far for a normal Receiver—Kentavious was anything but normal. A Receiver like him, he could make any pass seem centimetre perfect.
Ty glanced over his shoulder, preparing himself before diving. His hands stretched over Kentavious's shoulders. Kentavious waited until the last moment, knowing Ty couldn't reach where he could. He dragged his feet just before he ran out-of-bounds, and stabbed the sky with both hands, pulling the ball down to his chest even as Ty wrenched back on his shoulders.
They crashed into the Dons' bench, and Kentavious still held the ball when the wreckage was cleared. With it, the Longhorns had a first down, as Kentavious's first catch was good for 17 yards.
Ty rolled off him, ignoring the many helping hands offering to lift him to his feet. He lay on the ground for a few seconds longer, staring up at the dome ceiling. It was only when Coach Hoang rolled into view, asking if he was hurt, that Ty popped back up to his feet, saying he was fine. Physically he was; mentally he was still reeling.
Kentavious wasn't faster than him. He wasn't even FAST. His speed, or lack thereof, was perhaps the weakest part of his game—if something that was above average when compared to his peers could be considered a weakness. Yet Ty couldn't help but fall behind. How? He wasn't being fooled. Kentavious was as straightforward as ever.
The problem, unfortunately, was not a conundrum. There was a clear reason why Ty was falling behind, though it'd always been one who could overcome before. All it had taken was two plays in an actual game, with Kentavious right in front of him, for Ty to realise a Receiver's greatest weapon was something intrinsic to their game of offence and defence; something there WAS no defence for. Receivers were the aggressors, and being the aggressors, they controlled the flow. They knew what they were doing, it was Ty's job to figure that out THEN prevent it. It was like a dance, but the Receivers were always leading, and Ty could do nothing but follow along.
The game continued with the first run of the day. A Dive tested the Dons' interior defence, which answered the call, holding the play to only 2 yards, placing the Longhorns perfectly at half-field.
Kentavious stayed balanced, standing between Ty and the play, though his block wasn't aggressive, nor did Ty feel much strength behind it. Still, Ty was distracted, and even if he wasn't, the play was over before he could've impacted it anyway. But Kentavious had another flaw; another weakness—he was human, and a freshman, just like Ty. That's how Ty would beat him.
It didn't matter if he gave no openings in his routes, or had no tells regarding his cuts. The defender was ALWAYS at a disadvantage, that was the entire point of the game; that was why Ty played the position. Anyone could be a Receiver and blow by the average Cornerback. Tricking someone who could only react, and could barely even impede your progress after five yards was easy. It took real, monstrous skill to shutdown a talented Receiver. So that's what Ty would do. He'd overpower Kentavious, and prove his superiority by simply working harder, running faster, jumping higher.
The ball was snapped. Ty's spear shot out again, attempting to give Ty some form of leverage; knock Kentavious off his game somehow. But Kentavious slipped past it to the outside, dipping his shoulder just under it. Then the race was on.
Ty was still glued to Kentavious's hip, smothering him completely. Even Colby Jenkins would've thought twice about throwing the ball his way. But Herb Morrison wasn't Colby Jenkins, and he wasn't throwing to Richaun Howard.
Kentavious shot outside. Again there was no build-up, no wobble of the head, no shifting of the hips, not even a tense of the muscles until his foot was planted and it was time to turn. And by the time Ty was lunging after him, he'd already planted again and shot back up. It was a quick one-two stutter, but each that first step HADN'T been a feint. Ty had seen enough to know when a Receiver moved with conviction, with every fibre of their being believing they were making their real cut and the ball was about to be thrown. Somehow, Kentavious's feints were as real as the cuts he made immediately after them.
The pass came again, floating high through the air, thrown out before Kentavious and Ty with little more than complete confidence fuelling it. Kentavious's stride was perfectly measured, and his timing was immaculate as he lunged out at the last moment. Again, Ty dove, stretching one arm over Kentavious's shoulder. But his fingers were just out of reach. Kentavious caught the ball as softly as if it were an egg, then when Ty chopped down on his arm, his grip became stronger than steel.
They slid to the ground, tumbling across the turf, coming to rest within the red-zone. Ty bounced back up with a furious energy, pounding fists into the ground. Kentavious rose calmly, dusting himself off. The pitying look he gave Ty only fanned the flames of fury.
The catch was good for 23-yards, keeping the Longhorns just on the verge of the red-zone. How quickly they reached the mark. Especially after Ty's near-interception. Had Kentavious simply been measuring Ty then? Was one play all it took for Kentavious to figure Ty out completely?
Many eyes turned to Ty in the Dons' huddle. Worry was already creasing their faces, but the blame didn't lie entirely with him. Deshaun thumped Ty on the back before saying: 'You'll get the next one, I know it, Freshy. You that close to picking it off, just wait for this QB to fuck up.'
The encouragement was genuine, and others nodded, repeating how close he was to winning. If they could just get a little better, the ball was his. But it was also a shield. Deshaun knew, if Ty locked up Kentavious, then the Longhorns would be targeting him next as Sebastian had been open every play.
Donte knew—along with the rest of the O-Line—they were failing to support their brothers behind them. Sure, they had suppressed the single run sent their way, but their pass-rush wasn't putting ANY pressure on the QB.
Zayden was determined to get Ty the support he needed to calm Kentavious's initial burst, just like how JJ would help Deshaun wrangle Sebastian. Together they could beat these Longhorns back.
The chants of "dee-fence" hadn't quietened despite the Longhorns' impressive onslaught. Both teams lined up, to start it all over again. Ty and Kentavious stood alone on the far wing of both formations. Their focus muted all other noise to the background.
'Do you still feel like you're winning?' Kentavious asked.
'I still see a zero on the scoreboard.'
Kentavious looked around them as if to point out how far the Longhorns had come in such a short time; how they were already within field-goal range.
'You're not the only one who can change everything with a single catch,' Ty said, his tone biting. 'The first play already proved it. You're the one who needs to stop ME from catching the ball.'
Kentavious's eyes gleamed, and though it was hard to tell behind his helmet, Ty would've sworn he saw the edges of his lips twitch up into the faintest smile.
At the snap, Ty thrust his spear at an angle, striking out towards the inside path, right where Kentavious was going. The tip lined up perfectly with his heart, and it was Kentavious's turn to react. He cut back outside, though had to lower his shoulder, bumping through Ty, who braced himself, holding steady. Then Kentavious's elbow was digging into his hip, and hooking him forward as Kentavious slipped by.
Regaining his balance delayed Ty by a split second, giving Kentavious his biggest lead of the day. But Ty had faith in his speed to catch back up, and when Kentavious cut inside on a Post, Ty settled under the route, right where he wanted to be. They were headed straight for Zayden's zone, yet without fear, Morrison threw the ball over. The trajectory was flat, and high, similar to the Shamrocks' passes to Stringbean.
Perfect. The Dons' two-on-one strategy would work here. If it was enough to stop a giant like Stringbean, it could stop Kentavious. But that meant Ty had to trust Zayden; had to rely on someone else beating Kentavious for him. So be it. If the Longhorns were fools enough to throw into double-coverage, Ty would take that win. He was the one who forced them into it, right?
Then, before either Don was ready, when it looked much too early to both of them, Kentavious leapt into the air. Ty hadn't positioned himself to disrupt the jump, so Kentavious had a free leap. Maybe the Longhorns had made note of the Dons' double-team strategy against Stringbean. But it was too early anyway, he'd never reach the ball. Except, Kentavious just kept climbing. It was as if he was floating in midair—walking through the sky.
Both Zayden and Ty threw themselves into the air, but Kentavious was unmatched. His hands reached highest, and were the only ones to grace the ball, plucking it from the sky even as the Dons sandwiched him. Kentavious curled around the ball as he and Ty tilted forward, overpowering Zayden's solo effort, tilting him back. Ty attacked the ball as Kentavious pulled it down, but his grip wasn't weak, his focus wasn't ended so easily. Unlike Stringbean, Kentavious knew the play wasn't over until the whistle blew, and even then, only a fool relinquished the ball so easily.
The ground rushed up and met all three. Zayden cushioned the impact for Kentavious and Ty, but was crunched in the process. Gasps echoed around the stadium.
Kentavious rolled free, and Ty pulled back to his knees. Zayden peeked up at the world with one squinting eye, the other still tightly shut in a grimace.
'You okay?' Ty asked, offering a hand.
Zayden wheezed and nodded in response, taking the hand. Cheers and applause came as both boys got back to their feet. Zayden signalled he was fine to the sidelines, though leaned on Ty as they retreated to the huddle, defeated despite their two-on-one pincer. If Ty was going to beat Kentavious, he'd have to do so on his own, just the way he wanted.
When the ball was next snapped, Ty held his spear back, watching as Kentavious shifted to the outside. Together they sprinted along the sideline, shoulders brushing against one another. Kentavious's top speed might've been worse, but his first step was unmatched. Like many parts of Kentavious's game.
Ty looked back. For once, Morrison's focus wasn't on them. Instead, it was on Sebastian.
Deshaun was in a tricky position. Sebastian was quick—quicker than him—but so far his routes had all been underneath. Meaning Deshaun couldn't take the head start he needed; couldn't keep a wide buffer between them. If Sebastian shot out of his stance into a Slant, Deshaun had to be close enough to interrupt the pass if it came.
JJ was over the middle for support, and seeing as Sebastian wasn't his direct man, he could stay back, unlike Deshaun. So when Sebastian shifted upfield, straightening his Slant into a Vertical, which blew by Deshaun, JJ twisted around, ready to give chase. And that's when Sebastian cut back across the field, flattening the Slant out after his feint.
Morrison flipped the ball over. A short pass like this was simple enough, and he hit Sebastian right in stride as he stretched across the field, zooming by flat-footed defenders, straightening once more along the sideline.
JJ spun all the way around, taking an obtuse angle to run ahead of Sebastian, pushing to his limits. There wasn't much space left before the end-zone, and the rest of the defence had been drawn to the opposite side of the field. Ty was stuck in the end-zone with Kentavious, blocked off. It was down to JJ as the last line of defence… but he wasn't alone. A defender was only ever alone if they were in the middle of the field—the sideline was the twelfth defender.
Sebastian ran just inside the sideline's edge, one goal in mind. He wanted no part of cutting back infield to go against JJ. But a lumbering LB like that? He knew he could outpace them. Normally he could, anyway.
JJ dove, getting both hands to Sebastian's hip, launching him out-of-bounds and into a crowd of cameramen and workers gathered along the sideline. Though Sebastian had stretched the ball out at the last moment, he still came up a few yards shy of the end-zone. He angrily shoved off the hands helping him up, and ignored JJ's look of concern, shoving right past him on his way back to the Longhorns' huddle; Sebastian knew, unless a miracle happened, he'd just blown his one chance at a touchdown that drive.
The Dons rallied behind JJ. Without him, the Longhorns would've already scored; because of him, the Dons had another chance to keep the Longhorns scoreless. That chance would come down to Ty. A team like the Longhorns? They wouldn't hand the ball off to their RB and let him run in a short touchdown, even if that was the "correct" play. No; there was only one person the ball was going to.
Kentavious didn't show it. Usually a WR couldn't help themselves from proclaiming the touchdown pass was intended for them. Whether it was through nervous eyes darting back to their QB, an excited jitter of their hands, or an extra bounce in their step when they came to take their position, usually there was always a tell. But Kentavious was as calm as ever.
'One last chance for your miraculous catch,' he said. 'Are you still winning?'
'Yep.' Ty grinned up at him. 'Can you feel the pressure yet? All those catches—all those yards—and it means nothing in this moment. If you can't finish what you started that scoreboard will stay the same. This is YOUR last shot.'
The gleam had left Kentavious's eyes. Both boys settled into position, silence enveloping them even as the crowd was set to explode.
'Set-hut!'
Ty's spear landed for the first time, yet Kentavious lunged forward with two of his own, latching onto Ty like a set of meat hooks. Ty skidded back, digging his feet into the turf, his second hand flying up to hold Kentavious back. If it weren't for their damn height difference, Ty'd be untouchable.
Like an edge-rusher's swim-move, Kentavious chopped down Ty's arms, and pulled himself through to the outside. Ty stumbled forward a half-step, then launched back, not turning to follow Kentavious. He could still feel Kentavious behind him, and Morrison was staring down the corner. The pass came in, higher than it had any right to be, but Ty knew Kentavious could reach those heights. If Kentavious could, Ty had to as well.
Ty planted himself and leapt. Kentavious did as well, twisting in mid-air. The stadium held its breath as both boys ascended, reaching for the same prize; a prize only one could claim.
Ty extended, bending his body to thrust one arm up higher. The air was his domain. He'd proven that last week. It didn't matter if Kentavious was a "skywalker" or whatever nonsense. Ty ruled the skies.
The ball fell towards him. His fingers stretched towards it like talons, ready to pick it from the sky. And then two gloved hands reached higher. A shadow fell over Ty, eclipsing him, shrouding the ball from him. Kentavious claimed the ball as Ty crashed back to the earth. He landed cleanly around the wreckage, keeping both feet inbounds despite the limited landing zone of the end-zone's corner.
Officials confirmed the touchdown, signalling to the scorekeepers and world in general. The crowd erupted, overjoyed by the athletic display of dominance. And Ty could do nothing but watch from his back as Kentavious stood over him, ball still held high like a trophy.
Kentavious looked down at him, then sighed like a disappointed parent. 'You have the right attitude. You just can't back it up.'