Ty returned to the bench, finally basking in well-earned adoration and praise from fans and teammates alike; finally he DESERVED that treatment. He couldn't keep the smile from his lips. As he took his seat, his attention shifted to Sierra Canyon's bench.
Coach Hoang came up beside him. 'That was PERFECT, Samuels, but stay sharp. We won't get a chance that good again. That's not to mean our idea was a one-off. You should still be able to limit Lennox's options by forcing him one way.'
Ty nodded, soaking in the words, though his gaze was still fixed on the opposite bench. Lennox stared back.
Lennox ran through the interception, replaying it in his head. He couldn't see what mistake Kieran and he had made—there was none, not mechanically. But it wasn't one of Ty's anomalies, either. He had to remind himself there were no anomalies with Ty; he was just a normal player, and that pick-six was perfectly normal too, just a mental mistake from the Trailblazers. They'd grown too comfortable after the first half, overestimated themselves, and underestimated Ty. They wouldn't make the same mistake twice.
The extra point was successful, pushing the Dons' score to 7, but they still trailed by 14. As the teams emerged onto the field for the kick-off, Coach Hoang was still by Ty's side, preparing him for the next stand.
'You'll have to use your instincts now, Samuels. You should start by giving up the inside. He'll take it. Shallow Crosses or quick Slants will come, though you have to be wary for that counter, when he tries to bust through the outside. Feel the moment, and you'll know when it's coming.'
'Got it,' Ty said. If Lennox became more predictable, that was good. In truth, he wasn't fully convinced this tactic would work the way Coach Hoang hoped it would now.
As if sensing Ty's unease, Coach Hoang put a hand on his shoulder. 'Think like a Receiver. Ask yourself how YOU would beat you. That's what Lennox will do.'
Ty's brow furrowed as he looked at Coach Hoang. How he would beat himself? That didn't … the kick-off resulted in a touchback, and it was time for the Dons' defence to take the field again. Ty led the way, knowing getting another pick-six would be almost impossible this drive, but brimming with confidence … even as he was still mulling over Coach Hoang's last words of wisdom.
He shook his head. The comeback had begun. He'd erase the Trailblazers' lead by the end of the quarter.
As the teams readied to resume the game, Jay approached Coach Norman. He'd fully formed his idea in his head, and the first step of putting it into motion was telling a coach.
'Coach Norman?' Jay said. '…I think we should try a Flea Flicker.'
Coach Norman laughed, though cut himself off sharply when he saw how serious Jay's expression was. 'I don't know if that's a good idea, son. We've never even tried anything like that. Where's this idea come from?'
A Flea Flicker was a strange name for a strange trick play. It was a unique form of Play-Action, one in which the ball was actually given to the RB, usually on a run up the middle. However, that's part of the fake. Before the RB crossed the Line of Scrimmage, they would throw the ball back to the QB. Meanwhile, the Receivers would've all been running their routes like normal, and in theory, the QB would have his pick of open targets to choose from.
It was an advanced form of Play-Action to be sure, but one that could pull the defence much further out of position. However, it was the type of trick that'd only work once, though in some ways it could help your future runs by making the defence more hesitant to attack them in case they got tricked again.
But it was also a play that required great coordination, timing, and a lot of space. If the defence was busting through your O-Line in a couple of seconds, then it'd be a disaster. If you messed up the timing, the Secondary would recover and your Receivers would lose their edge. It was an all-or-nothing play.
'There's a first time for everything … right?' Jay asked.
He gave his reasoning for the idea, how aggressive Mason Eubanks was, and how the rest of Sierra Canyon's LBs and Safeties flowed with him, mimicking that aggressiveness. Coach Norman listened without interruption.
'Besides …' Jay said. '…It has to be convincing. … Play-Action doesn't cut it.'
'That may be the case, son,' Coach Norman said, 'but we can't just add a Flea Flicker to any of our current plays. It'll throw the timing way off.'
Jay looked across the bench, scanning the team. 'We don't need an actual play … just one route … a vertical. … Who's the fastest on the team?'
'Well, that's Tyrese, clearly,' Coach Norman chuckled, 'but from the offensive side of the ball? It'd be Cole, wouldn't it?'
'So then Cole needs to run a Vertical … and everyone else needs to stay outta his way.'
The pair looked at Cole. It wouldn't matter how fast he was if he wasn't faster than his man. Though if the fake did its job, it'd give him the step he needed.
Cole felt their eyes on him and looked over, blinking in confusion. He racked his brain but drew a blank trying to think of a mistake he could've made on the last drive, something that would've made them mad.
'Are you sure about this, Jay?' Coach Norman asked.
'… I'm sure.'
'I'll tell Coach, see what he thinks.'
Even if Coach Long approved of Jay's idea, he'd have to wait a while to put it to the test. Unless Ty got another interception soon.
Jay turned his attention to the field. Ty had scored more than them, and he only played defence. Jay needed to step up big time. He needed the Flea Flicker to work.
Ty and Lennox battled fiercely. The first play had been a pass, and Lennox predictably went for a Cross. But the middle of the field was muddled with bodies. It was hard enough to find space normally, but with Ty breathing down Lennox's neck, he'd been smothered.
The ball went elsewhere, however, even though Lennox had been running all out, he wasn't the target. The play might've been intended for him before the snap, but to Ty's mind, it was the first time the Trailblazers adapted after the snap and went with something that wasn't the first option. Barry Bundy ended up with the ball in his hands. A deeper Cross had sent him to the more vacant side of the field where Ty and Lennox had started.
It was good for 9 yards, and Spike picked up the rest on the ground. The Trailblazers were still strong contenders, even when they were on the back foot, like Ty felt they were. They seemed oblivious to the fact they were on their back foot. They felt the game was still theirs to control.
A fresh set of downs started with Play-Action. Nobody bit. Lennox jabbed outside, but was too rigid, too stationary a target for Ty's spear. It pinned him in place for a second. He fought it off, slanting inside before stretching vertically up the field. Ty was right on top of him.
Lennox shimmied inward after he'd got 11 yards upfield, but it didn't shake Ty, and they continued their straight-line race. After the duels with Nate Langford, racing Lennox felt like a comfortable jog.
Kieran hit a different Receiver on the opposite side of the field on a Comeback. The play was good for 8 yards. Deshaun came up frustrated. Still, he struggled to defend those kinds of routes. Zayden eased his worries, reminding Deshaun he had his back.
Spike picked up the first down again, but this time it was through a catch when he slipped out into the flat, exposing the hole Ty and Lennox had left behind in the wake of another one of their duels. Ty still held the upper hand.
As the Trailblazers moved slowly, Donte's silent frustration grew. Everyone had been doing their jobs, and now Ty had stepped up as well. They should've been winning, but now it felt like the Trailblazers had only JUST started trying.
Still, Kieran Valentine held onto the ball far too long for Donte's liking. That caused his frustration—that he ALLOWED Kieran to hold on to the ball and drift around the Pocket for so long.
Donte just couldn't reach him, but not for want of trying. Donte gave his all every play he was on the field, but the Trailblazers' O-Line was a formidable shield he couldn't yet crack. They were the real reason Kieran had so much free time in such a clean Pocket.
If Donte tried to attack inside, the Linemen seamlessly passed him off to the next man, until he was bogged down in the centre of the trenches. If he tried to pass to the outside, the Tackle was fast enough to stick with him without help and force him far too wide to reach Kieran.
But the outside was the only way forward Donte saw. The inside was way too dense. He just had to be faster. Much faster.
The ball was snapped. Donte bolted outside. The Tackle's kick-step sent them wide. It looked like there was an opening inside, but Donte knew it was a trap; the Guard would be right there to smash him the moment he tried to squeeze through. It had to be outside.
Ty held Lennox up, tracking a Post route easily, but Barry passed them the opposite way. The routes were long and time consuming. But Donte had been shoved out, and Kieran wasn't in any danger. He let the ball fly.
Zayden had to track the ball far. He and JJ had been working together to handle Barry, though it wasn't a perfect plan if Barry kept low and to the outside, but this was too deep. Zayden couldn't let this one through.
Zayden stretched out on a one-way track, heading straight for a collision, but he buried his fear, buried the memory of pain that stabbed through his wrist. His hand reached the ball first, then Barry slammed into him.
Zayden tumbled end over end, feeling like he'd been hit by a truck, but he'd disrupted the pass. He'd done his job. Ty wasn't the only one who could make big plays. If he'd just been a little faster, it could've been an interception as well.
The teams reset for second down. Zayden was ready despite the collision. He had to be okay; the Dons were still struggling in a tug-of-war for control over the game; they couldn't let their chance slip.
Donte had been saved by another herculean effort from his teammate. Everyone was doing their best, yet he was dragging them all down. He had to do something. He had to be faster, had to arch lower, he had to get around that wall.
The ball was snapped. Donte burst forward, angled low to the ground, arching to avoid the Tackle's jutting hands. A palm like a block of concrete glanced off his shoulder, staggered him for a second, but he kept his legs churning.
He was almost around them, he just had to … he dove, stretching out a hand, and his fingertips came within a hair's breadth of snagging Kieran's jersey before he was driven into the ground.
Kieran hadn't even noticed how close Donte had come to touching him. He sensed zero danger as he observed the field. Lennox was open, finally, and he found him over the middle.
Lennox had fought for the position, rushing forward, but then he broke to the outside. It was a convincing enough fake that Ty thought it was the one where Lennox went against the grain and tried to force through his challenge. The fake had bought Lennox the space he needed to attack the inside.
Lennox slid to the ground as he made the catch, being downed 11 yards downfield, earning another set of downs for the Trailblazers and pushing them across half-field. Most importantly, it was Lennox's first catch since the pick. It affirmed their belief that Ty's interception was just a fluke.
Ty watched Lennox closely as the two returned to their positions. Ty was still shading Lennox to the inside, protecting the outside like it was a two-minute drill.
'It was just a fluke,' Lennox said.
Ty tilted his head. 'That catch? Yeah, it was.'
'Nah. Your pick. You didn't do shit to earn that or deserve it. It was just a stupid mistake on our part. It won't happen again. I'm still gonna double the lead we had at the start of this quarter.'
Ty laughed, shaking his head. 'You're not scoring again.'
Lennox snarled just as the ball was snapped. The Trailblazers had abandoned their run game. Ty watched Lennox. Even with Coach Hoang's tip, and cutting off one potential avenue of routes, predicting how Lennox would move was still a hard task. But he thought he was slowly beginning to understand how Lennox operated, and how the game was flowing around them.
"He'll go through me this time," Ty thought. And Lennox did. It wasn't a fake this time. He really tried to bully his way to the outside. Ty smothered him, and Kieran had to look elsewhere, but there were no other options until Spike finally gave him something to throw to. Even then, it was only a dump-off and only gained 3 yards.
Donte was still trying—and failing—to get to Kieran through the outside. But the Dons could win even without pressure on the QB. They needed to win quick, as the Trailblazers were approaching field goal range.
Ty, feeling lost and unable to predict Lennox's next move, jumped across to favour the inside before the snap. Lennox's eyes narrowed, but he and Kieran made no adjustments before the ball was snapped.
Ty thought that defiant look in Lennox's dark eyes meant another head-on challenge. Lennox would see the inside as something easier to force his way through to and Ty looked to be right in the beginning.
But Lennox broke outside, and the short Corner route earned him enough freedom to haul in a catch. He tapped his feet down in bounds just before falling out, quickly rising back up and whirling around to Ty, taunting him.
'I told you! It was a fluke! Your little tricks don't mean shit. You lost.'
But Ty saw it then. The thing driving Lennox most wasn't logic or what was "correct" it was ego, just like any other player. No matter how much Lennox dressed it up, or how shiny the veneer he put on it, it was still the same.
Ty was unresponsive to the goading, distant. There was a strange, faraway look in his eyes that sent a shudder through Lennox. Lennox turned away, dismissing Ty. But he couldn't shake the strange feeling as he returned to the Trailblazers' huddle.
He walked right up to Kieran and demanded the ball. 'It's time to finish these losers,' Lennox said.
Kieran nodded. 'Agreed. This isn't fun, it's just getting annoying. They're like gnats. We need to show them we're still in control. Stop and Zag?'
Lennox grinned, bumping fists with Kieran. This would finish the Dons. If Ty couldn't see that he was beneath Lennox after this humiliation, that boy was too dumb to learn anything.
Lennox sauntered over to his position, grinning down at Ty. He was too fired up to notice the chill in the air, too self-centred to note how unending Ty's gaze was.
'Hut-Hut!' Kieran took the ball, dropping back deep; Lennox needed a lot of time to work his magic. He scanned the field quickly. It was a habit that was harder to break, even if all he had to do for that was nothing.
He knew by now that the Dons were leaving Tyrese on an island. No one survived on that island with Lennox. The pick-six had been a fluke. They'd become predictable, underestimated Tyrese. They wouldn't make the same mistake again.
Lennox rushed forward, batting at a spear thrust that never came. The slight hitch didn't stop him long as he lowered his head and kept charging, running right into Ty's grasp. A hand on his hip didn't grab, but it was cold against him.
Lennox stopped at the top of his route. He couldn't shake the hand, even as he shimmied back, faking a Curl. His real route continued to the inside, but only for a couple of steps before he cut up again. Ty ran after him, a step behind. Like his shadow.
It was time. Kieran cocked the ball back. He stopped immediately after his off-hand left the ball. Something screamed at him not to bring that ball back, to step forward, like there was a semi-trailer about to splatter him.
He drifted up in the pocket just as Donte flew by, fingertips grazing a loose flap of Kieran's jersey.
The readjustment had thrown off the proper timing, but the window was still open. Kieran knew he could still fit the pass in. He trusted his arm, trusted Lennox, and let the ball fly.
Looking back, a strange feeling bloomed in Lennox. It was like a clump of concrete in his stomach, holding him down, whilst the rest of his body had become weightless.
The others were worlds away from him and Ty. A field of stars stretched between the pair and the rest of the players instead of a field of grass. Even then, Lennox saw the minuscule double-pump Kieran had to take.
The ball shot out of Kieran's hand like a meteor racing across the sky. Lennox watched it arc towards them. He chased after it, bounding across the field like he was on the moon, the slab in his stomach the only thing keeping him from floating away.
Ty scythed through the darkness, gaining on Lennox as steadily as the ball gained on them. Lennox's breath quickened. Something was wrong.
He'd reach the ball first, Ty would be right behind, but he'd reach it first. The double-pump had cost them a touchdown, but if he made this catch, they'd be back into field goal range and could guarantee putting the lead back out to three possessions. He'd reach it first. So why did it feel so wrong?
The closer the ball came, the shorter the gap between Lennox's breaths. He was panting, then hyperventilating. Ty was as cold as ice, as lifeless as a sculpture. The stars danced across his black eyes. Those eyes held the ball in their centre, a comet's tail streaking out behind its reflection.
Lennox leapt, so did Ty. Lennox's breathing became a choked gasp. Then he saw it; the thing that had been strangling him, the reason he was so afraid. He'd seen this play before. Many times. So much he'd ingrained it into his brain. Those inexplicable interceptions Tyrese performed, as if the world warped around him. His anomalies. Lennox had a front-row seat for one.
Ty's hands shot across Lennox's vision, eclipsing him. Lennox lunged forward, a last ditch effort at salvation. His hands caught Ty's arm instead of the ball, wrenched it away. The ball thudded into Ty's grasp, even as one of his hands was yanked away from the catch, the remaining fingers sunk into it like talons.
Ty and Lennox hit the ground. Lennox fell, pulling Ty with him as they stumbled out of bounds. Ty held the ball above his head and kept his feet even as Lennox crashed. Lennox bounced off the turf, the world snapping back into focus. He saw Ty standing above him, ball raised above his head like a trophy, a feral grin plastered across his face.
Ty was bursting with energy. He could feel it just beneath the skin, ready to rip him apart if he didn't expel it. He raced across the field, heading towards the Dons' bench, ball still raised above his head, Lennox's horrified face still fresh in his mind.
He passed teammates, barely aware of their grazing pats, their shouts of joy and praise, shared jubilation only whispers to his ears. Reaching the opposite sideline, he leapt up onto a free spot on the bench, staring into the crowd.
The roar was over him, pulled him deep beneath the ocean of noise. His eyes locked onto Meg, her own wide and glistening with tears. Ty flung the ball towards her, overshot by five rows, and he screamed.
A scream of joy, relief, dominance. A cry of war. It was a notice for the world that Tyrese Samuels was there, and he was the greatest CB alive.
Ty shuddered when his scream ended. The crowd was still roaring. He turned and dropped into his seat, exhausted. That energy had almost consumed him, almost burnt him out completely. It'd been different, more intense. He'd felt that way before, when the world dropped away and all that was left was him, the ball, the QB and his opponent, but it'd never been to THAT level before. Like he'd been filled with the energy of a star.