"How is that physically possible..."
In the St. Mary's dugout, Coach Cotton's jaw nearly hit the turf as he watched Big Mike get launched into the air.
As the head coach, he knew exactly what Big Mike was capable of. The kid's bone density and muscle mass were practically professional grade.
It was inconceivable that a player of his caliber could be overpowered by sheer brute force in a high school game.
Cotton distinctly remembered that Medford's Number 23 wasn't this dominant last year.
Back then, Mike's biological development hadn't peaked. To beat St. Mary's in the summer league, Mike had taken a beating from the giant.
Medford had won that game, but it was a pyrrhic victory—Mike had barely scraped by, ending the game battered and bruised.
Now, only six months later, Mike's physical parameters had completely eclipsed the giant's.
Anyone with eyes could see that they were no longer in the same weight class.
Although he didn't want to admit it, the look on Coach Cotton's face betrayed his envy of the Medford coach.
Then again, what coach wouldn't kill to have a player like Mike—someone whose power levels defied the standard deviation?
But after the moment of envy passed, Coach Cotton remembered he had a job to do. He shouted at his shell-shocked players on the field.
"Focus up on defense! The clock hasn't hit zero yet!"
St. Mary's still held the lead on the scoreboard.
Furthermore, Cotton's years of coaching experience told him that an offensive output as high-intensity as Mike's was unsustainable. The kid would burn out.
Therefore, St. Mary's still had a statistical probability of winning.
---
After another change of possession, St. Mary's managed to maintain their lead, thanks largely to Big Mike's impenetrable blocking.
"Listen to me! Use your numbers advantage! I want that Dual-Core backfield on lockdown!"
When Medford's offense took the field again, Coach Cotton issued updated orders to counter the two-man threat.
His strategy relied on a zone blitz designed to sever the link between the two key players.
However, Cotton failed to anticipate that Coach George had already calculated a counter-move to the zone blitz.
On the snap, instead of a complex handoff, Captain Aaron immediately launched a high-arcing deep ball toward the St. Mary's secondary.
Mike, acting as the flanker, ignited his thrusters. He tore through the midfield like a blur, catching the ball before it even hit the apex of its arc.
Before the defense could process the data, he had blitzed into the end zone.
against that kind of absolute velocity, St. Mary's attempt to split the formation was rendered obsolete before it even began.
"Number 23 is an outlier... we have to contain him," Coach Cotton muttered, stunned once again by Mike's performance.
Allowing the opponent to score so effortlessly was a massive blow to morale.
At this rate, St. Mary's spirit would break long before Mike's stamina did.
Thinking long-term, Coach Cotton decided to go nuclear. Regardless of the cost, he could not allow Mike to continue skewing the data.
For the next defensive drive, Cotton grabbed his players' facemasks. "I don't care what laws of physics you have to break—stop Number 23."
However, what happened next was even more shocking.
Mike didn't care about the opponent's feelings. Driven by the logical imperative to close the score gap, he took the handoff and bulldozed through the giant and several other defenders, crashing into the end zone with unstoppable momentum.
"MIKE... MIKE..."
"MIKE... MIKE..."
Witnessing such a visceral display of dominance, the crowd went wild.
Unconsciously, the chants synchronized.
It was the kind of hero worship usually reserved for MVP quarterbacks.
Even Sam, finding catharsis on the sideline, joined the chanting.
"So, the kid was sandbagging during practice all along. No wonder..." watching the drive, Coach George finally updated his assessment of Mike's true capabilities.
It explained why Mike had been acting so strangely during the scrimmages; he was bored.
Unlike Coach George's pleasant surprise, Coach Cotton looked like he had seen a ghost.
He had tried to overestimate Mike, but the reality was far worse than his simulations.
At this moment, Coach Cotton realized his confidence in winning the game had statistically dropped to near zero.
As Mike continued to exert force, Medford successfully took the lead by the end of the third quarter.
---
"Heads up, boys! We are not forfeiting this game!"
Although he knew the probability of victory was slim, Coach Cotton decided to gamble one last time during the quarter break.
St. Mary's was a powerhouse program; they could lose, but they couldn't lose like cowards.
Banking on the assumption that Mike must be tired, the St. Mary's coach shifted his focus to the other component of the Dual-Core.
"We're changing the variable. Fourth quarter: I want the entire defense to focus on their Quarterback..."
Since Big Mike didn't run the ball, St. Mary's offense was predictable. They couldn't change much there.
Their only path to victory lay in a defensive miracle.
From a tactical standpoint, Cotton's logic was sound: Stop the Quarterback, stop the distribution of the ball.
In contrast to the gloomy atmosphere at St. Mary's, the Medford sideline was buzzing with high-octane energy.
After witnessing Mike's combat effectiveness in a live fire exercise, the team's confidence had solidified.
This intangible shift in "momentum" was the hallmark of a team evolving into a championship contender.
"Alright, settle down and listen to the data," Coach George said with a grin. "Fourth quarter, we switch to the 'Star Player' protocol. Let it rip."
"Mike, are your systems optimal?"
"Affirmative, Coach. I have been ready for a considerable amount of time," Mike replied confidently.
Because of his overwhelming skill, Mike had naturally become the dominant factor in the Dual-Core setup anyway. But to accommodate Aaron's skill level, he had been throttling his performance.
Now, with the "Star Player" tactic fully engaged, the entire offense existed solely to serve Mike. He no longer needed to calculate for variable inefficiencies.
Two minutes later, the teams took the field for the final showdown.
TWEET—
Medford snapped the ball.
Captain Aaron caught the snap and immediately shoved the ball into Mike's gut for a handoff.
As Mike accelerated, the rest of the Medford players fanned out to provide a blocking escort.
Just as Mike led the charge toward the end zone, a wave of laughter rippled through the stands.
"What are those St. Mary's guys doing?"
"Did they suffer a collective concussion?"
"That is hilarious..."
---
Because of their new defensive orders, the St. Mary's players had simultaneously decided to target Aaron.
The result was pure comedy.
The entire St. Mary's defense swarmed Aaron in the midfield, surrounding him like a pack of wolves.
Aaron stood there, empty-handed, looking confused.
Meanwhile, Mike—the actual ball carrier—was jogging practically unopposed into the St. Mary's end zone, surrounded by his own teammates.
The two groups were separated by thirty yards of empty grass.
It was a visual representation of a "Critical System Failure." St. Mary's looked like absolute clowns.
There was no doubt about it: this was a catastrophic tactical blunder.
The audience didn't care about the tactics, of course. They just saw the St. Mary's team seemingly lose their minds and give up on the play.
The stadium erupted into two distinct sounds: one half cheering for Mike's touchdown, the other half laughing hysterically at the St. Mary's defense.
TWEET—
The whistle blew. Realizing he had made a fatal error in his algorithm, Coach Cotton frantically signaled for a timeout.