Playing in the last game made me realize something: the level of high school football was much lower than I expected.
Furthermore, this is Hawaii, not the mainland. The overall level of the players is a bit lower here. Because of that, the complex schemes you see in College or NFL games are almost impossible to use here. My teammates simply can't execute them.
Whether it's a lack of time, effort, or raw talent, the lessons I learned from that first game are helping me a lot today.
The strategy I chose: Keep it as simple as possible.
"Green-80!! HUT!!"
Receiving the ball from Loto, I moved into the pocket and scanned for a passing lane. The lines were clashing fiercely. Soon, the defense would be on me.
The Tight End and Wide Receiver hadn't reached safe positions yet. I couldn't hesitate any longer. In the end...
.
(Gus Johnson) - Fox Sports:
"Moi is tucking it! He's running it himself!"
.
I bolted into the wide-open space on the right. An End tried to grab me, but I shoved him away with a stiff arm. I kept going.
Thump!
I was finally stopped by a tackle, but I had easily gained a First Down. I felt a slight sting in my ribs where I took the hit, but it was nothing.
.
(Gus Johnson): "Moi picks up 18 yards for the team!"
(Joe Davis): "The receivers weren't in good spots. It's impressive to see him make that split-second decision instead of forcing a pass. The kid definitely knows how to run."
(Gus Johnson): "You are watching the frontrunner for the No. 1 spot in the Class of 2020 recruiting rankings: Dwayne Moi Stone."
.
▷ 2Q – 08:43
Kahuku: 24
Aiea: 00
Static. "Good job, Moi. Listen up. I-Glass, Dummy-Double, Twist Attack."
The Coach's voice crackled through my helmet receiver. It might sound complicated, but it's just the offensive play-call.
I-Glass: The basic formation.
Dummy-Double: The movement of the linemen.
Twist Attack: The style of the strike.
The reason for such coded language is simple: we don't have much time. Between downs, you only have 25 or 40 seconds to huddle, depending on how the previous play ended.
Using bizarre or funny names makes the plays easier to recognize and saves precious seconds. If you exceed the huddle time, it's a "Delay of Game" penalty—5 yards for the other team.
I quickly stood before my teammates and relayed the order.
"I-Glass! Dummy-Double! Twist Attack!"
I repeated the play exactly as the Coach said and moved into the UnderCenter position. Under Center means standing right behind the Center to take the ball. To be an NFL quarterback, you must know how to do this. You'd think it's basic, but surprisingly, many QBs struggle with it because they lack the fundamentals.
"HUT!!"
The I-Formation is a running play. By lining up the Fullback (FB) and Running Back in a straight line behind the QB, the goal is to gain yards on the ground. With five linemen and a tight end holding the front, the Fullback acts as a "Dummy" (decoy), allowing the Running Back to squeeze through the gap. Usually meant for gaining 2 or 3 yards, it's a staple for first or second downs.
We gained 3 yards. Mission accomplished.
"Start with Pistol. Trips Delta, X-Rock."
"Start with Pistol! Trips Delta! X-Rock!"
I couldn't expect my teammates to pull off flashy improvisations or elite athletic feats yet. Following the Coach's drilled instructions was the best way to ensure they didn't get confused.
And this wasn't bad for me, either. At this level, that discipline is a virtue. Most high school QBs get noticed for their raw physical stats or "Hail Mary" long balls. Almost none can execute a complex play-call perfectly. Showing scouts that I can do this will make them salivate so much they'll need a goddamn IV for dehydration.
Back in the Under Center position, I checked the defense and shouted. Oh, right. I changed the call slightly today.
"Green—!"
The "Green" I just yelled means Green Light. If I, as the QB, look at the defensive lineup and see no problems, I call "Green." When the offense hears this, they know the huddle play is a go. The number following it—like 80—is my confidence level (80 being the max).
In the first game, I tried calling out the opponent's movements, but the offensive team kept bothering the coaches with questions after every turnover. I realized 95% of the team didn't understand the numbers I was yelling, even though they were in the playbook.
Simple. Keep it as simple as possible. That was my logic.
Repeating "simple" in my head, I executed the play. This time, it was Pistol. Named because the receiver spread looks like a shotgun pattern, it's a formation invented in 1999. While three wide receivers draw the defense away, the Tight End moves to a specific spot in the middle.
Even if they can't improvise, my Tight End can at least follow the drill.
"HUT!!"
I took the ball and stepped back. I faked a look at the wide receivers to trick the defenders, then spotted the Tight End moving into position on my right periphery. I didn't miss the window.
Boom!
I fired the pass and got knocked sideways by a tackle. Immediately, a roar erupted from the crowd. A successful catch. I scrambled up and pointed at our celebrating Tight End.
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(Gus Johnson): "TOUCHDOWN! Kahuku High is putting on an absolute clinic!! 41-3! This game is essentially over!"
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▷ End of 3Q
Kahuku: 48
Aiea: 03
In his second game, Dwayne Moi Stone showed his talent and potential without reservation. He was even more stable than the first game. There was nothing to criticize.
"He might not be a simple Dual-Threat." "Gunslinger? Scrambler?"
"This changes the whole conversation."
The fact that Moi's style couldn't be easily categorized made the college recruiters ecstatic. They had never seen a high school QB like this. 99% of high schoolers either just throw as told—and fail half the time—or they run because they don't understand the plays.
Moi, however, felt like a Pro.
While recruiters swarmed Moi's family to hand out business cards, NickSaban sat quietly, staring at the field. He was fixated on Moi's huddles.
'I've never seen a high schooler lead a huddle like that.'
Today, Dwayne never once looked back at the bench before a play. He took the call via the receiver, relayed it, and continued giving orders while scanning the enemy line. He even called Audibles. And at a high level. He spotted which defender was blitzing or if a linebacker was sharking a specific receiver and adjusted on the fly.
A few plays failed because his teammates didn't understand him, but no scout or college coach would blame the QB for that.
'He really is off the charts.'
Nick Saban, famous for needing at least 10 games of scouting before moving on a player, was ready after only two. The legendary coach stood up, drawing the eyes of everyone in the stadium. He walked toward Moi's family, took off his sunglasses, and offered the kind of warm smile that had won over countless parents. He reached out his hand.
"A pleasure to meet you. I'm Nick Saban."
▷ GAME SET
Kahuku: 58
Aiea: 10
I didn't play in the 4th quarter again. No complaints—the win was in the bag. After the game, I met the offensive team on the field and told them they were the best. Naturally, the Fox Sports reporter caught up to me.
"Wow. What a game."
"The Coach's plays were great."
"But for a freshman to execute them 100% is incredible, isn't it?"
"Not 100%. Maybe about 90%." "That's a very specific number for 'humility,' isn't it?"
"Haha."
Since I was a kid, I've occasionally made slips of the tongue related to my past life. I have to be extra careful in front of the cameras.
Shannon kept chatting with me while we waited for the official interview. She seemed very curious.
"Are you going to commit as a freshman?" "No. Definitely not."
"A junior then?"
"Probably."
Some top prospects decide on a college in their first year. Usually, it's because of a family legacy, a childhood dream, or just being close to home. But my family's alma maters aren't exactly football powerhouses, and I don't have a "dream school."
I just want a competitive team. Top 10 is fine. Even slightly lower is okay. I have the confidence to take any team to the top. So, I'll wait until my junior year to consider everything—especially the coach and the teammates.
I didn't want to sound like I didn't like my Kahuku teammates, so I clarified:
"Once I've learned everything I can here, I want to learn something new in college. I want to be somewhere with a great coach and teammates I can learn from."
"Learning is important."
"Exactly."
"Haha. Ready?"
"Let's go."
Two weeks in a row, I interviewed with the top reporter at Fox. This is going to have an impact. In many ways.
"Mom!"
After the interview, I ran to my family. I hugged my mother first, then Grandma and Aunt Mel. My uncles and aunts hugged me happily. Then, it was Grandfather's turn.
"You look like you were born to be a quarterback."
"Haha. I believe so, too."
Because I was. When I realized I had been reborn, I vowed to be a QB. In my past life, I wanted to be one, but my physical limitations led me to coaching instead. It's common in football—you play until college, realize your talent ceiling, and then work your way up as a staffer or QB coordinator until you become a head coach. I followed that exact path, though I did a few more things along the way.
"I am very proud of you today, grandson."
"I am..."
I hesitated. What should I say? Huamatu? Stone? Grandfather and Father always wanted me to live by my own convictions. I shook off the doubt.
"I'm just a proud grandson of a great grandfather."
"Indeed you are."
Actually, I wanted to say "I'm a Stone," as I always had. But that would have made him sad. My conviction is not to hurt the people I love. So, I set my ego aside.
"Father."
"Moi."
"...."
"You could have done better in the second quarter."
"Haha. Yeah, I guess so."
I wished for a compliment, but that's my dad for you. Even when I conquered huge waves as a kid, he'd just say the next one should be bigger. He rarely praises me, so his approval has become my benchmark. I know he says this because he believes in my talent more than anyone. If I didn't know that, I might have rebelled... No, actually, that's impossible.
Looking at Dad, Grandfather, and my Uncles, any urge to rebel just vanishes. It's like a cleansing feeling.
But then.
"Even so."
"?"
"I am proud of you, too."
"!!"
Father praised me. I was happy. Truly happy. I beamed at him, and he told me to get back to the team.
Right. After the game, we do another Haka. I ran back to my teammates and dropped to one knee, slowly pounding the ground with my fist.
Thump. Thump.
Sioele, the captain, started the chant.
"I ngā ra o mua o te taenga mai."
After the Haka, which lasted over a minute, I looked at my family and then glanced over at the Huamatu crowd. Most of them looked like they had just swallowed a pile of shit. Serves them right.
Calling me a "Fake Samoan" in this atmosphere wouldn't sit well with anyone else here. I wanted to give myself a perfect score today for shutting them up with football, right in front of my family. I felt proud. Very proud.
"Moi. Let's go."
"Yeah."
The second game ended in a blowout. It seems my job from now on is to raise the level of my teammates.
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[Many NFL insiders are now keeping a close watch on Dwayne Moi Stone's draft eligibility. - David Carr via Twitter]
[The moment Dwayne Moi Stone declares for the NFL Draft, I guarantee half the league will start tanking. - Dan Hanzus via Twitter]
[He's just a high schooler, isn't this too much? You guys kidding? Everyone needs to cool their heads. - Ira Kaufman via Twitter]
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