# August 22, 2016
#-1. Oahu, Hawaii
#-2. Honolulu, Kahuku CDP
#-3. Kahuku High School
#-4. Football Field
The past weekend was incredibly loud.
A horde of college officials swarmed my grandmother's house, and broadcasting crews lined up in front of the door, filming every visitor. It was all being broadcast in real-time through their social media. Reporters scoured Maui and Oahu, interviewing anyone who knew me.
"Moi is like this."
"Moi is like that."
Even mundane stories about how I was polite and well-mannered since I was a kid became headline news. America was completely obsessed with me.
But. "You want to do what?"
I don't care. I have more important things to focus on.
"Training, sir."
"What kind of training?"
"Just bits and pieces. Can I hang out and work with some of the guys ?"
"...."
Coach John Moss looked up at me. He's the team's dedicated quarterback coach. In the NFL—or even the NCAA—you have specialized staff like a QB coach, a passing game coordinator, and an offensive coordinator. At the high school level, one QB coach is usually enough. Anything more would be wasted because the kids wouldn't understand it.
But I wanted that "anything more."
"Outside of official team practice hours?"
"Yes. I'm just planning to take three or four guys with me."
"Hmm."
"Would that be a rule violation?"
As I've mentioned before, the National Federation of State High School Associations (NFHS) limits practice to 2 hours a day and a maximum of 14 hours a week. If you break this, the cheapest price you pay is a fine—usually about 1/4 of a high school's annual budget. Some schools just forfeit the season and start rebuilding rather than pay it. I was worried that what I wanted to do might trip over those regulations.
"Moi!"
After practice, Coach Moss came back with an answer to my inquiry.
"It's possible, as long as there are no coaches on the field."
"Really?"
"Yeah. But you have to make sure you verify everything. Got it?"
"Oorah—"
That was enough. I could do what I wanted. Specifically, what I do best. In my past life, I was known as a coach who could develop quarterbacks, but I was even more famous for maximizing a player's individual strengths.
This was my bread and butter.
Turning away from Coach Moss, I approached the teammates I had "selected" after much deliberation over the weekend. First off, no seniors. I'm looking at next year, and the year after that.
"ST!"
"?" "Got a sec to talk?"
"Sure."
ST. SitalekiTongi. A junior wide receiver. We have 14 wideouts on the team, and other than the starter, Royce Pao, this guy is the only one worth a damn. For the rest of them, high school will be the end of their football careers.
Their skills are that mediocre.
"You want to train together?"
"Yeah. Extra work. I checked with the coach; it doesn't affect the regulations."
"...."
Tongi thought for a moment then shook his head. He said he didn't have the time. I expected this, so I wasn't particularly disappointed. Tongi knows his football skills aren't enough to get him into college, so he's grinding for the SATs. That's high school life for you. I'll take it slow.
I immediately approached the next person. The team's junior Tight End, SekopeLatu. This kid has a huge passion for football.
"Fine. When do we start?"
"Tomorrow."
"Got it. I'll be there."
As expected, he accepted immediately. Sekope could definitely make it to the NJCAA (Junior College). But he probably has his sights set on the NCAA. Whether "Junior" is attached to the college name or not makes a world of difference for your future. Plus, the Tight End position is vital for a team and a QB. Its tactical value is top-tier. I need Sekope, but he also needs to use me to boost his own value.
Next.
"No way!"
"I'll get you that girl's number you wanted." "For real? Then I'm in, let's go!"
It was my classmates' turn. Marcus was the easiest; a girl's number was all it took. Sol-J also agreed to join. He's planning to switch positions next year to receiver. Staying as a QB means he'll always be a backup, and transferring isn't an option for him. It's a smart move.
That left one.
"I need you as a Safety."
"...You really need me?"
"I'm telling you. So, let's do it together."
Kaonohi had been losing confidence lately. It's the curse of being a "utility" player. You only see improvement when you grind at one position, but since he's just a "plug-and-play" guy for whatever the team needs, he probably feels like a training dummy. I think he's perfect for Safety—and it's a weak spot for our team.
"Alright, this should do it..."
Back at the dorms, I sat at my desk and mapped out the training program. I divided it into three stages: Mon/Tue for recovery and conditioning; Wed/Thu for basic tactical drills. If these guys can keep up, I might even be able to suggest the plays we've practiced to the Head Coach. That's one of the perks of being the QB.
Click.
Satisfied with my notes, I stepped out to shower before diving into more tactical study. The walk to the bathroom was much different than before. Tamati had built a path from the dorm and installed a simple roof and outer wall, giving it a more private feel. It made showering much more comfortable.
Creak—
Swoosh—
Humming to myself, I let the cold water hit me. My body was covered in purple bruises. Even at the high school level, tackles fucking hurt.
Creak—
Click.
With my basket of shampoo and body wash tucked under my arm, I hummed the same song as I walked back. Classes were good, friendships were solid, and football had off to a great start. The school paper was already claiming this was the year we'd beat St. Louis and win the Division title.
Well, that's exactly what I plan to do.
"Huh?"
A basket was sitting in front of my dorm door. Tamati?
Ah, right. Tamati brought pecan pie again today. I feel bad just receiving all the time, so I'm trying to help out where I can. Like most high schools, we have some bad apples, but the freshmen haven't dared to cause trouble under my watch. From elementary school to high school, I've always ended up being the neighborhood watch.
"Damn, that smells good."
After a quick prayer of thanks, I cut a corner of the pie with a fork.
"Oh, God. This is it."
Maybe he should just sell these? I'll have to suggest it to him sometime. But for now... "Oh, God." This is insane. I shoveled the delicious pie into my stomach.
# August 23, 2016
#-1. Oahu, Hawaii
#-2. Honolulu, Kahuku CDP
#-3. Kahuku High School
#-4. Principal's Office
Tuesday. A visitor arrived at Kahuku High School.
"You want to do what?"
"I want to put Moi's jerseys in stores across the country."
"...."
John Hagerty, the Principal of Kahuku, didn't immediately process the words of the man who introduced himself as Charlie Foster. Foster was the head of Marketing and Promotions for Under Armour, the sponsor for Kahuku's football uniforms.
"You want to do what?" Hagerty asked again. "Haha. I understand the shock." "Understanding aside... are you serious?" "Absolutely. We see this as a massive opportunity for Kahuku as well."
"I mean, sure, but..."
Top 25 NCAA schools pull in nearly $100 million a year through their football programs. Non-professional college teams. Last year, Alabama made $115 million. That revenue comes from tickets, jerseys, and broadcasting rights. High school teams usually make less than 1/100th of that. In Hawaii, the average high school team makes around $100,000 a year.
Kahuku had already surpassed that thanks to the Fox Sports rights fee. But now, another jackpot had literally fallen into their laps.
"First, here is the marketing plan."
Hagerty took the documents with trembling hands as Foster continued.
"We are confident that through Moi's jersey sales, we can bring Kahuku more than $5 million in annual revenue."
"W-wait. $5 million?!"
"Yes, sir."
"Oh, dear God..."
For the past five years, Kahuku's annual revenue from tuition and other sources was around $7-8 million. Adding the Hawaii state budget brought it to just over $10 million. After maintenance, the remaining $4 million went toward teacher salaries—including his own and the coaches'.
And now, Under Armour was guaranteeing $5 million.
"Actually, the production lines are already running."
"Already?"
"Yes. We finalized the groundwork after the first Fox broadcast. We wanted to see if the hype around Moi was sustainable. We concluded that it is."
"But $5 million..."
"Haha. That's just the minimum estimate."
If Kahuku really got $5 million in net profit, everything could change. They could improve the quality of education, renovate facilities, and become the top high school in Hawaii. But this income had a time limit: as long as Moi was at Kahuku.
"I'll consult with our lawyer and get back to you immediately."
"Please do. I'll be staying for two days."
"Would you like to tour the football facilities?" "I'd love to."
Hagerty called Gavin Travis, the Head Coach, and introduced Foster.
"Moi's jerseys?" Travis was surprised, but since it was a school operations matter, he just listened and nodded.
Left alone in his office, Hagerty picked up the phone again. "Call a board meeting. Right now!"
The board members, the PTA president, the school lawyer... they would all gather soon. But Hagerty wasn't worried. The conclusion wasn't going to change.
"At least five million... Oh, my God." A wide grin stayed plastered on his face as he stared at the ceiling.
# August 24, 2016
#-1. Oahu, Hawaii
#-2. Honolulu, Kahuku CDP
#-3. Kahuku High School
#-4. Football Field, QB Room
The idea that athletes don't need to study doesn't apply to football. In fact, it's the opposite.
"We're relying too much on the rushing game." "But we don't have a choice."
"I know, but..."
A quarterback is very busy. You have to train, memorize plays, and participate in strategy meetings. That's why every football team has a dedicated room for QBs. Currently, I was in there with the Head Coach and Coach Moss, pushing my agenda.
"We need to at least perfect the Shotgun. You know we've already had 6 passing touchdowns in the first two games? Last year, the team only had 10 in the entire season." "...."
"...."
Seeing the silence from the coaches, I pushed harder.
"We won't beat St. Louis with just rushing." "Hmm."
"Give me a chance. I have a plan."
"What kind of plan?"
At the Coach's question, I rummaged through my bag and pulled out one of the four practice notebooks the team gave me. Usually, these are used for reviewing plays, but mine was full of ideas.
"We have one decent Running Back and one decent Tight End."
"Right."
"And we can't just not use the other kids." "Also true."
"Right. So... Decoys."
Whether you call them a "Dummy" or a "Decoy," the meaning is the same. In football, we use "Decoy" more often.
"We mix in more decoys."
"We already have plays like that."
"Yeah, but they're all three years old."
Three years is more than enough time for an opponent to analyze them. I saw it on the field. Remember last week when I had to run because I couldn't find a receiver? We used a decoy then, and the defense handled it perfectly. If a bottom-tier team like Aiea can read us, St. Louis—the best in Hawaii—will eat our decoys for breakfast.
"I have the decoys I designed on page 16." "...."
"I'm not saying we do it right now, but just read it."
"Fine. But, Moi."
"Yes?"
"How do you come up with all this? You're new to football, right? And you're only three months in."
Every time I let a bit of my past life slip, people got suspicious.
"I'm just surprised, that's all."
"I'm just obsessed with football, Coach."
"A lot of kids are. But no one writes stuff like this. Just a quick glance tells me this is high-level stuff."
"So you'll consider it?"
"Yes. I promise."
Satisfied, I smiled and excused myself. Walking down the hallway, I spotted Sekope.
"Kope!!"
"?"
Kope is Sekope's nickname. Since we started training together on Tuesday, we'd become quite close.
"Coming from the meeting?"
"Yeah."
"Must have been intense."
We walked side by side. Sekope loved the extra training and absorbed everything quickly.
"So, Loose Socks is the distraction, and Switch Jam is when I block then roll back into the middle?"
"Exactly."
Loose Socks. Switch Jam. These are the strategies we're grinding, aimed at using the Tight End to secure First Downs. I want to try them out as early as the Campbell game on the 2nd of next month, or the Radford away game on the 6th. Radford is a safer bet—they're the weakest in the state.
"Damn. Football is getting crazy fun lately." "Told you so."
"Anyway, thanks to you, Bro."
"Anytime."
Sekope went back to the school building for a makeup class, and I, currently holding a perfect score in every subject, headed to the library. Not just to study, though.
"Warrup, ST."
"...You're persistent."
"Stone means 'perseverance.' Mind if I study here?"
"Sigh... do whatever you want."
"Haha. Thanks."
I sat across from ST. He'll probably join us after midterms. If Sekope and I pull off our practiced plays against Radford, ST will definitely want in.
"Y-Double is... the receiver..." I muttered quietly to myself. ST's eyes flickered up, glancing at me. I'd bet my manhood that even though he has earphones in, there's no music playing. He loves football; he's just frustrated that his talent is limited.
Believe me, I know that feeling better than anyone.
Swallowing the words I could never say out loud, I continued my "seduction" of ST.
[In a historic first, high school football jerseys are being sold in Under Armour stores nationwide. - The New York Times]