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"Go, go, go! Keep that formation! O-line, watch the blocks!"
As the timeout ended, George's shouts from the sidelines sparked a massive surge in the Medford offense.
When it came down to a straight-up battle of grit and talent, Medford proved they were leagues ahead of their opponents. Driven by the non-stop cheers from the crowd, the team found their rhythm and built a solid lead by the end of the second quarter.
As they headed back to the sidelines to regroup, the players actually had smiles on their faces for once.
"Great job out there, boys! Keep that energy up—you're the best in the state!"
After hyping them up, George used the halftime break to keep everyone focused. "In the second half, we're sticking to the basics. Aaron, control the clock. O-line, watch your feet; I want you glued to that quarterback like bodyguards..."
It was a standard, "bread and butter" strategy, but it was reliable. It's the kind of game plan a powerhouse team uses to grind down an opponent. Having just regained their confidence, Medford didn't need any trick plays or "Hail Marys"—they just needed to play smart, disciplined football to secure the win.
"Everyone clear on the plan?" George barked.
"Yes, Coach!"
The team's response was deafening. George had officially earned their respect.
"Good. We've got a few minutes left; catch your breath." Without anyone even noticing, George had essentially stepped into the role of head coach.
In the back, Coach Wayne was leaning against the playbooks, totally checked out. He had no clue a crisis was brewing for his career. In fact, he was busy wondering which bar he should hit up after the game.
Meanwhile, in the stands, an old man in a clever disguise was watching everything unfold.
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Halftime ended, and Captain Aaron, still fired up, led the team in their chant:
"Medford—Win!"
"Medford—WIN!!"
In the third quarter, Garden High tried to switch things up, but against the massive talent gap, they couldn't catch a break. When Aaron, tucked behind his blockers, broke into the end zone for another touchdown, the home crowd—who had been holding their breath for weeks—finally exploded.
With a double-digit lead, Medford had basically put the game on ice.
"I don't see what there is to cheer about. Statistically speaking, Medford has the superior roster; victory was an analytical certainty," little Sheldon remarked from the sidelines, looking baffled by the emotional fans.
"You just don't get it, Sheldon. This is a battle for our pride!" Missy, caught up in the hype, gave him a look of pure disdain before screaming toward the field, "Go, Georgie! Get 'em!"
"Barbarians..." Sheldon shook his head, ready to launch into a logical rebuttal. But suddenly, he felt a drop on his face. He forgot his argument and shrieked in terror, "Oh no! Rain! It's raining! It's RAINING!"
To Sheldon, rain meant germs and sickness, and he absolutely loathed being sick.
"Relax, Sheldon. I've got you," Mike said, feeling the light sprinkle. He calmed the panicked boy down.
Late spring was prime time for sudden showers. The sun was still out and there wasn't a dark cloud in sight—just a classic sunshower. It wasn't heavy enough to stop the game, but since Paige and the other two were still kids, Mike didn't want them catching a chill. He shielded the three of them and led them through the crowd toward the school building.
"Tom?" Under the eaves of the main building, where a bunch of girls had gathered to stay dry, Mike spotted a familiar face in a hat and glasses. It was the Principal.
"Shh!" Principal Tom put a finger to his lips and shook his head quickly. He was clearly there on a "secret mission" to scout George and didn't want to blow his cover.
Out on the field, the rain started coming down harder. George's big coat and baseball cap turned out to be a lucky choice. He didn't care about getting wet; he stayed out in the downpour, screaming encouragement to his players. As for Coach Wayne—the man actually getting paid to do that—he had disappeared to find cover long ago.
The shower ended as quickly as it started. By the time the fourth quarter was underway, the clouds had parted, leaving the air fresh and a brilliant rainbow stretching across the sky.
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"We did it!"
The final whistle blew. Medford had won by over twenty points. The players cheered and hugged, the weight of their recent slump finally lifting off their shoulders. They desperately needed this win.
A group of them rushed back to the sidelines and swarmed George, dragging him into the middle of their celebration.
"Hey, Mike! You see that? We won!" Georgie yelled, running toward Mike for a hug.
"No, no, no—stay back!" Mike held up a hand, looking disgusted. After playing football in the rain, Georgie looked like he'd been rolling in a swamp. Mike was not about to become a human towel.
"Mike, we actually pulled it off." God only knows how much pressure Aaron had been under lately. He had a massive, genuine grin on his face. This win meant everything to him.
"Congratulations, man," Mike said, smiling.
"No," Aaron corrected him. "Congratulations to us."
Technically, Mike was back on the team. Thinking about how the team was finally heading in the right direction, Aaron's smile got even wider.
After the celebrations died down, it was time for the final coaches' handshake. Since Coach Wayne still hadn't returned from the "dry zone," the players all turned expectantly toward George. If it were up to them, they'd want George as their head coach permanently.
"Alright, then." Seeing the hope in their eyes, George straightened his cap and walked toward mid-field.
"Congrats on the win," the Garden High coach said. He was disappointed, but after seeing the real Medford team in action, he knew he'd been beaten fair and square.
"Thanks. Your pre-game strategy was top-notch," George replied, shaking the man's hand. They stood there for a moment, talking shop about the game.
As they turned to walk off, the invitational was officially over.
"Keep working hard, boys," George said, sounding a bit wistful as he prepared to say goodbye to the team. "I guess it's time for me to head out."
"Wait, George. There's some good news coming your way," Mike said, deciding it was time to tip his hand. He knew the Principal had seen everything. Unless something went sideways, George's return to the coaching staff was a done deal.
"What good news?" George asked, confused.
Aaron, picking up on the vibe, looked excited again. But before Mike could explain, the Student Council president arrived with a group of volunteers.
"Mike, Mr. Cooper—the Principal wants to see you both in his office." The president looked around. "By the way, where is Coach Wayne?"
"Right here. What's up?" Coach Wayne had finally emerged from wherever he'd been hiding.
"The Principal wants to see you, too," she informed him.
"Georgie, keep an eye on Paige and the others for a minute," Mike said. He knew exactly what was about to happen. He turned to George. "Come on. Let's go see the boss."
"Wait... Mike?" George followed him, whispering urgently, "Do you know something I don't?"
"It's good news. You'll see in a minute," Mike teased. He knew it would be way more impactful if the Principal delivered the news himself.
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