A sleepy Sunday morning was always an interesting time for a bike ride. There were periods where, as Kenny glided down the streets, he thought he might be in the beginning of an apocalyptic movie.
When he made it to Jackson's house, leaving the bike laying in the front yard, one wheel still spinning as he knocked on the door, he realised he'd put on one too many layers of clothing.
Jackson opened the door, surprise and confusion overtaking his smile. 'You okay, Kenny?'
Kenny had his arms trapped above his head, mid-removal of his sweater. He yanked it off and stumbled back, panting. 'Y-Yeah. It was a lot colder when I first stepped outside.'
Struggling to contain his laughter, Jackson stepped aside, holding the door open for Kenny. The inside of the Jackson home didn't make Kenny's situation any better; the ducted heating was already giving the home a toasty feeling that might've been comfortable for those expecting it, but after Kenny's quick ride, it felt more like running into a steam room.
'Can I get a glass of water?'
'Sure, just head up to—'
'Oh, hello, Ken.'
The boys stopped outside of the archway leading to the living room where Jackson's mom and dad were, Chrissy, too. The three of them twisted around in their chairs, looking up from their various activities—Dad's overly bright phone showed showed the website for the local paper; Mom paused mid stitch of her latest crochet project; and the cartoons on TV faded from Chrissy's mind—smiling at the boys.
Kenny waved at each of them—causing Chrissy to giggle—and said: 'I hope I'm not intruding, Mrs Woods.'
'Of course not,' she said. 'You're always welcome in our home, Kenny.'
'We want you to feel like family, Ken,' Mr Woods said.
'Thank you, that means a lot.'
Jackson, without Kenny even knowing he'd left, returned with a glass of water. After handing it over, he leaned in to address his parents. 'We'll just be up in my room with Tommy.'
With a chorus of "have fun" following them, Jackson led Kenny upstairs. Yes, it was Sunday, but that didn't mean the boys would be resting. They still had work to do. Kenny chugged the tall glass, not spilling a single precious drop. He sighed, a relaxing coolness spreading through his body.
Tommy glanced up from his phone when the boys entered the room. 'Hey.'
'Yo,' Kenny said, looking around. Tommy had pulled the chair from Jackson's desk around, occupying that. The younger boys would sit on the edge of the bed right in front of the TV which already showed a still image of the beginning of a football game—the Neville Tigers vs the Dominguez Dons.
Kenny's eyes were locked on the screen as he felt his way along Jackson's bed, settling down on the edge. 'It was a crazy game,' he muttered, awe and a touch of jealousy tainting his voice.
'It really was,' Jackson said, sitting next to him. 'The whole tournament's been going crazy … everyone's so good it's insane.'
'The Eagles got bounced in the first round … and the longer it goes on the better each team gets. How are they so good?' Kenny's expression hardened, glaring at the screen.
'There are levels to it, that's for sure,' Tommy said, 'and it's good you can recognise that, but it's not like they're so far beyond you guys they're untouchable. You'll be up there soon, I promise. This time next year, you guys will be tearing it up in Nationals.'
Jackson nodded. 'If we keep working together, we'll reach this level for sure. It doesn't matter how much of a head start some teams might have.'
Kenny, without taking his eyes from the screen, held a fist out to Jackson, who bumped it thrice—down, up, head-on.
Tommy started the recording, letting the game begin. He got up from his seat, and stood beside the screen. After the strange kickoff, the camera showed a wide angle to put both the offensive and defensive formations in view. He paused the video, and circled Tyrese and Elliot.
'Obviously, I don't need to tell you boys this is the matchup to watch,' Tommy said. 'There's more to analyse, and one of those pieces is over here with the Tight End.' He gently tapped the screen over #84 of the Tigers. 'He's the Tigers' second biggest target, and watching how he works in unison with Elliot Wall is going to be especially beneficial for you two.'
Kenny and Jackson shared a look. Knowledge had been unearthed from their subconscious and pulled to the surface. It made sense, but it was something they hadn't spent much time thinking about … maybe because it was an uncomfortable subject to tackle.
As much as they were partners—in it together, and constantly pushing each other towards greatness—simultaneously, they were rivals fighting for the same opportunities. Maybe their feud with Grant and his group had distracted them from the fact that once he was dealt with, they'd be fighting amongst themselves. Somebody had to be number two.
Tommy watched the realisation set in both boys' eyes. He sat back down and pressed play. 'Let's watch,' he said, snapping their attention back to the screen.
The first play of note was Elliot's first catch. It came off a deflection, the second such reception of that first drive. 'That happens so much in this game,' Kenny said, shaking his head. 'It's like they had magnets in their gloves or something.'
'That or they're really lucky,' Jackson said. 'I mean, the ball falls into the Tight End's lap off of a couple of deflections … but Elliot, it's like he knows where it's gonna fall.'
Tommy leaned back in his chair, for once at a loss for words when it came to the game he loved. 'Luck is a very real thing. Sometimes it favours one side more than the other on the day.'
'Can't it be something like instinct?' Jackson asked.
'That's a good question, and one that'll come up later as well. It might be, but I'm not sure. Hah, I think for those plays, we'll have to chalk them down to luck. Would that we could talk to Elliot about them personally.'
Hindsight was twenty/twenty. If only this game had happened before New Year's, Jackson could've picked Elliot's brain at the gala. It was strange, he looked like such an unassuming guy. You'd never suspect him to be such an enigma.
Kenny clenched his jaw tight as the game continued and Ty seemed to get the better of Elliot, holding the Tigers to only a field goal on the first drive. As much as it pained Jackson to admit, the pass break-up which forced an incompletion only plays before the Tigers settled for a field goal was a spectacular effort by Ty.
After the stumble, a touchdown to Elliot seemed inevitable. Only through great effort, tremendous athleticism, and—most importantly—unbreakable spirit could Ty interrupt such a pass.
When the teams switched over to have the Dons on offence, and the Tigers on defence, Tommy returned to the screen, and circled #20 on the Tigers. 'This is the key to the game on this side of the ball. Watch him, and how the Dons deal with him.'
Both boys leaned forward as they watched the drive unfold. The Dons offence was impressive, having grown throughout the season, they moved like a well-oiled machine. It was the type of efficiency born only after training, playing, and working together for so long. They'd have four years to learn each others habits, ingrain them into their minds so deeply they become their own habits.
It was admirable. Even when met with resistance, they knew what adjustments to make to help their teammates overcome whatever obstacle was holding them up. It was all going so well, and they seemed on their way for a touchdown; they were unstoppable.
Even though they all knew the interception was coming, and even after being told to watch #20, it was still a surprise.
Tommy paused the video after #20 sprung back to his feet, ball in hand, held aloft like a trophy. Silence filled the room for a long moment.
'Now that was instinct,' Jackson finally said.
Kenny nodded in agreement. Tommy scratched his chin. 'He's got good instincts for sure, but it's more than that. Did you notice anything strange about him? Not just during that play, but throughout the drive?'
Silence came over the boys again. They replayed the previous snaps in their heads. What set up #20 for that interception?
'…He doesn't play like a normal C-B,' Kenny said.
'How so?' Tommy asked.
'I can't put my finger on it exactly. Even when they're playing zone defence, he acts more like a Safety. He … doesn't get caught up with whats in front of him, but is watching the whole field, like he's trying to see the play unfold before it happens.'
'He predicted they would go for the touchdown, and that's how he got the interception?' Jackson asked.
'Not predicted, not entirely. But he knew it was possible?'
'You're saying he was guessing?' Tommy asked.
'Not blindly, but yeah. He watched everything they'd done that drive, all while trying to figure out how they'd score, and that's the answer he came up with.'
Tommy nodded. 'He's definitely a ball-hawk—the type of player who's always watching, waiting for the perfect chance to get an interception. You're right that we typically see those types of players in the Safety position. It's rare, but not unheard of, to have a C-B like that. I think this game's a perfect example of the pros and cons of that kind of style.'
The rest of the first quarter flashed by, the boys made a few quick comments as the defensive struggle took over the game. And then came Elliot's touchdown drive against Tyrese.
They were silent as they watched the in-broadcast replays of Elliot's first touchdown. Even after getting the step, Ty had recovered well enough to find the best position. But Elliot still came out on top.
'He's really tricky,' Kenny said.
'Smart,' Jackson corrected. 'He knows just when to attack and where … it's more than luck.'
'It's a good aerial duel. One you should both watch extensively. It serves as a good reminder that it's not just you and the ball, but your opponent too, and that the fight never stops until one of you has it in your hands.'
'I don't know. I feel like that kinda shit would get called nine times outta ten,' Kenny said.
'Maybe that's the lucky part,' Jackson added.
Tommy shrugged, rewinding the footage. 'What about before that? Not just the catch, but the play itself. How did they get in that position to attack like that?'
Elliot blew right by Ty on the play preceding the touchdown. Why? And why didn't he do the same for the touchdown? There was an added decisiveness to Elliot's cut that broke Ty down, but that decisiveness was still there on the touchdown play even if the result wasn't as explosive.
'Is it … instinct?' Jackson suggested; Tommy had said it'd come up later.
'Not quite, but it's in that realm. There's still an analytical nature to it. If it was all just instinct, it wouldn't have taken the first quarter for them to warm up to each other. I think it's more like … an inverse of instinct, as if Elliot is aware of how instinctual a player Ty is, and is using that against him.'
Kenny rubbed a temple, staring at the screen. Inverted instincts? His face scrunched up. Somehow football was getting more complex than their schoolwork. 'Why didn't it work as well on the touchdown? He had to almost cheat there.'
'It's another part of his game. Elliot's outmatched physically, but he can still fight. The Tigers aren't a good name for him. Think of him more like a spider who has to lure his prey into traps, and uses craftiness to hunt. He lays those traps in places where his prey's instincts will take them … yet the prey can surprise him sometimes by fighting against their instincts. That's much easier said than done, as you can see with how Ty struggles until the second half.'
It was a struggle for the Dons for the rest of the half, though they were fortunate enough to escape without conceding further, and unfortunate not to score at least a field goal of their own. Then everything changed after the break; Jackson would've given anything to have been in that locker room.
'What changed?' he said, thoughts slipping from his mind off his tongue.
Tommy let the boys ponder the question. He had his ideas about what had changed to make the game swing back to the Dons. Of course, without being in either locker room it was impossible to have the full answer.
Kenny frowned, almost scowling at the screen as if it was an exam sheet he didn't know a single answer to. The Tigers were still playing their same game. The Dons offence came out with some new fire, but after quick analysis #20 of the Tigers shut down their whole flow and held them to a field goal, one that snuck in rather than bounced off the post.
On the other side of the ball came the real shocks. Ty's first interception had a feeling of inevitability about it. But how? He'd got torched in the first half, and even looked to be getting toyed with at the start of the Tigers' drive. He started winning against his better instincts? But it was more than that. He was smothering Elliot before the interception. Surely that was a foul on the interception, he bowled Elliot over. Kenny had voiced the complaint, but Tommy had assured him it was legal; the offence could be just as rough after a tipped ball.
Without an answer forthcoming, Tommy said: 'The Tigers aren't the only ones who can observe their opponent and exploit their weaknesses. It's tough, and someone like Ty has to fight against his own instincts to make the correct adjustments, but—as you can see—he's more than capable of doing so.'
It was soon the same on the other side of the ball despite #20's adjustments. They watched as the Dons scored a touchdown in answer, bringing the game down to within one score.
'That C-B's too much of a gambler,' Kenny said. 'It's great when it works, but if he fucks up it's an easy touchdown.'
'You think so?' Tommy asked.
'Yeah, what he does is too risky.'
It certainly looked easy when the Dons scored. But Tommy thought that was underselling the hard work that went into the touchdown. 'I think he's actually very safe. There's a reason he's been so successful with this "gambling" play-style. It's just that the Dons caught him out.'
'How can a gamble be safe?' Kenny asked, frowning.
'You're thinking in fifty/fifty's. What if the gamble wasn't a fifty/fifty, but more like seventy-five/twenty-five, eighty/twenty, ninety/ten. Is it still gambling? Yes, but is it risky? Not so much.'
'So the Dons got lucky?' Jackson asked.
'Or the Tigers got fucked and were super unlucky.'
Tommy laughed, but shook his head. 'How can it be lucky when there's no doubt involved? The Dons were watching, they realised number twenty wasn't actually a gambler at all, just another observer. He watches his opponents, figures out their tendencies, and when he sees an option, he acts as if the opposition will take the most logical, safest choice. The Dons—knowing this—waited until the right time to take a risk. Which, if you think about it, knowing the defender would go for the opposite option, turns it into the safest option and makes it go from an illogical risk to a logical, safe play. Funny, huh?'
Jackson's head was spinning listening to Tommy's explanation. The worst thing was, what he said made sense. Both teams were making reads on the other. Whilst luck could definitely play a part in that, your smarts had a much bigger role. They were all being analytical, absorbing such vast amounts of information about not only their direct opponents, but the entirety of the defence or offence before them, calculating it against how they would most likely react to certain situations, and then acting against that. All whilst only seconds passed. Most of them probably didn't even realise they were doing it. Instincts came back in the end.
From that point on, the game became a wild flurry. The boys watched in awe. Even Tommy's tongue was stilled. The basic formula hadn't changed much, but it was like the difference between fourteen divided by two, and finding the square root of Pi.
Elliot and Tyrese soared beyond anyone else, even their previous selves from the first half, getting better and better each quarter until Tyrese completely eclipsed even Elliot, and the victor was decided.
The conclusion of the second half was exceptional, almost magical with Ty and Elliot's back-and-forth. Even whilst watching and rewatching, having a perfect overview of the entire duel, it was hard to keep up. The ideas were the same on both sides, but at such levels that it eclipsed their play in the first half, like they were almost new people.
How could they make those micro-adjustments and reads in real time. The processing speed, the decision-making, everything. Kenny thought it was Ultra Instinct; Jackson was inclined to agree. Could they ever attain that level? They had to. If Tyrese could, Jackson could. He WOULD. It was only a matter of when.
Kenny and Jackson shivered. It was hard not to be shaken by such a dominant display. Such games proved Ty had earned his spot. He went up against the number three Receiver, and despite a rocky start, he'd ended up dominating. Somehow, the goal of his back kept getting further away the more Jackson chased after it.
Their reactions didn't escape Tommy's notice. He shut the TV off. 'They're both exceptional players. Tyrese especially. You can see it, but I want you to remember what you saw earlier in the game, too. Everyone has a weakness, one that can be exploited. Once you do, they'll react, and it might not be in a way you've ever seen before, even if you've studied ALL of their tape. Everyone's always growing, but that means EVERYONE, including you two. Once they shift and change, you have to as well. As long as you keep on top of them, you'll win.'
Jackson took a deep breath. Tommy was right. Everyone, including Ty, was beatable. They might've been on different levels—even with a few in between them—but Jackson was learning a lot; how much more would he learn as the tournament continued? Ty looked unstoppable at moments, but Elliot as the number three WR had almost beaten him. Would Richaun Howard be the one to stop the unstoppable?
Either way, the game of Dons vs Cobras was a must-watch. He hoped the duel would stay on the field, and wouldn't turn into an actual fight. Nobody deserved to be robbed of the battle Tyrese and Richaun could have as CB vs WR.
Tommy stood, stretching. 'Welp, you boys have got a lot to think about … buuut for now, Dad wants you.'
'Huh? What for?'
Tommy grinned. 'He's got some special training planned for you Receivers.'
'Receivers?'
'Like, the other guys on the team, too?' Kenny asked.
Still grinning, Tommy ruffled Jackson's hair on his way out of the room. 'Come on.'
Kenny and Jackson sat there for a moment longer, confusion bouncing from one to the other. Eventually they followed Tommy downstairs.
As they did, Jackson's thoughts returned to the game they'd watched. 'Even with their backs against the wall, they always pull off the win, don't they? It's like they're unbeatable. Like an anime M-C with plot armour.'
Kenny scoffed. 'Plot armour or not. I hope he doesn't lose until we get to face him.'
Jackson blinked. HIM specifically? He didn't need to be told who the HIM was, it was obvious. There was something behind Kenny's fixation on Tyrese instead of the Dons as a whole.
'There you boys are,' Mr Woods said, not giving Jackson the chance to ask Kenny what he was talking about. 'Jackie, you're with me. Kenny, you'll go with Tommy. That okay?'
'Sure, but where are we going?'
'Just a little outing for the rest of the day. Special secret training,' Mr Woods said, winking.
Kenny shrugged. 'Catch you later, Jackson.'
'Uh, yeah, I guess so.'
They bumped fists again, heading out one after the other, both getting into separate cars. It was like a whirlwind had picked them up off the bed and thrown them in opposite directions. Where were they going? And what the hell had Kenny been on about?
These questions plagued Jackson as he got into the passenger seat of his dad's car. Worst of all, he didn't think he'd get any answers to either question.