Gladiators of the Gridiron

You’d think, that in the deserts of Arizona, it wouldn’t be that cold, especially when it wasn’t even winter yet.

But that didn’t stop Kenny Murata’s breath from fogging up in front of his face as he sat in the bleachers under the bright lights of the ACP (Arizona College Prep) Knights’ football field, watching the final moments of the Titans’ varsity game play out.

His parents were eager to begin 30 minute drive back home, as they hadn’t dressed appropriately to stay out in the cold night air, only originally planning to watch their son’s game earlier that afternoon when things were much hotter under the burning sun.

But they’d promised their boy that they would stay back and watch the older, bigger kids play as well, even if they didn’t really understand the rules themselves, they were more than happy to sacrifice some of their comfort for something that brought their son so much joy.

Though right now Kenny was very tense due to the state of the game. It was late in the 4th, with the Titans near the Knights’ goalline and trailing by 4 points.

It was 3rd and Goal, with only a few yards between the Titans and the endzone; there was little room for error. The Titans had to punch through into the endzone in only two more tries. There was no time for two field goals, there was no backing down, it was now or never.

The Titans’ huddle broke apart slowly and the players took up their positions, staring stone-faced at the frenzied Knights across from them.

The Titans QB, who wore number 1 on his jersey and had the name Walker spread across his back, was a lithe Senior. He wasn’t overly tall, and he was maybe a bit skinnier than what you’d think a Football player would be.

His weary eyes peered out from under his helmet as he scanned the defence from his pre-snap position in their “shotgun” formation and then gave a nod to his TE.

The towering TE nodded back, He was positioned at the end of the offensive line, almost like an extra lineman as he hunkered down. His unblinking eyes stared ahead at the two defenders who stood across from him, they had been matched up against him all game, but even so, they looked nervous while the TE’s confidence exuded from his powerful body.

Spearhead was the name across the TE’s broad back, and 87 was his number.

‘Hike!’ The ball was snapped, and Walker caught it above his head before instantly tucking it under his arm. He darted to the right, following the lead of the RB, Redd, who wore number 30.

Redd had been standing right beside Walker before the snap, and while it was a run play, he—the RUNNING Back—wouldn’t be carrying the ball and instead would be blocking.

It might’ve been a strange plan for any other team—to have your RB blocking for your QB in a run play—but was a regular strategy for the Titans’ offence, and Redd was built for the job.

He was short, but almost as big in width as he was in height. Looking at him, you couldn’t help but picture a pit bull.

Walker and Redd were heading straight for Spearhead’s side of the line, hoping to skirt past his sturdy block and bulldoze their way into the endzone around his edge.

But in a 2-on-1, there was only so much even someone as big as Spearhead could do. He held off both defenders for as long as he could, but one slipped by him.

Redd was right there to pick up the slack and hammered into the taller but lighter defender and mowed them over, tumbling down with them.

An LB swooped in from the backside of the field and slammed into Spearhead, who was still fending off one of his original pair of defenders. Spearhead’s block collapsed just as Walker was trying to push past.

The Knights’ LB pushed through the tangle of bodies and locked his arms around Walker, determined to drag him down.

The endzone was RIGHT THERE. One more step, one more yard and Walker would be in.

Walker fell down, protecting the ball close to his chest as he surrendered to the tackle. He was short of the endzone.

The Titans’ players picked themselves up, and Spearhead helped up Walker, staring at the smaller QB with a blank expression.

‘The fuck you judging me for, man?’ Walker said, shrugging off the hand once he was back on his feet. He trudged away from the opposing team to huddle up with the rest of the Titans. ‘I tried.’

Spearhead's hardened expression had only the slightest frown as he never took his eyes off of Walker’s back.

The offence huddled up again and turned their eyes towards the sideline they knew they would have to stay out there even though it was 4th down, of course, they’d go for it, a field goal would still mean they were down by one point, and there was less than a minute to go.

Coach Otsen stood there like a great, menacing statue, a cold glare on his face.

Coach Knight—the offensive coordinator—spoke into the headset he wore on his bald head and said: ‘Zero, LL, Twig, Black.’ A coded message for the next play call.

Walker had his hands covering the earholes of his helmet to block out the screaming, hostile crowd, the message bounced around the helmet from the speakers inside. He relayed the message to the rest of the team.

‘Snap on two,’ Walker added before the group dispersed and took their positions again.

Spearhead was again lined up almost as if he were another lineman, just off the right edge. This time, Walker was “under center”, ready to receive the ball there. Redd was flared out wide to the right side of the field, and the three WRs out there were in a bunch to the left.

‘Hike!’ Walker cried, though the Titans didn’t move, but their opponents didn’t take the bait and launch themselves offside. Walker wet his lips with his tongue and gave the scoreboard one last glance before giving the second cry and spurring the field into action again.

Spearhead bulldozed his way forward, sliding his two defenders back before he turned towards the middle of the field. Though he only took a single step that way before turning with the agility of a cat and bursting towards the opposite direction.

He left one defender stumbling towards the centre of the field still, and he shoved past the second before Walker let the ball loose.

The pass was low to the ground, so Spearhead dove for it, cradling it against his chest gently but securely as he slid across the grass and came to a rest … in the endzone.

Touchdown Titans!

The ACP crowd was stunned into silence before cries of anguish erupted from them. There was less than 30 seconds left in the game, and the subsequent extra point put the Titans up by three.

Spearhead was given a hero’s welcome when he returned to the bench; Coach Knight patted him on the shoulder and looked into the boy’s eyes, his beard curling up into a smile.

‘Shane! That catch was maximum levels of awesome!’ Coach Vasquez said, pumping a fist in the air.

Coach Otsen hadn’t uncrossed his arms, but he had a soft smirk on his lips. He looked at Shane for a while before saying: ‘You played great today, Spearhead.’

‘Thank you, Coach,’ Shane replied with a smile of his own. He didn’t rest for long, taking a quick drink and rushing back out onto the field after the extra point for the kickoff defence.

The Titans were able to easily shut down the Knights’ return and stop them at the 19-yard line, the panicked returner ran into a wall of Titans jerseys before long.

The Knights had no timeouts remaining, and only 20 seconds left to get within field goal range. They had to throw caution to the wind, and they threw away their strategy along with it, letting God decide the result with two hail-mary pass attempts.

The QB let rip with the longest passes he could throw, and under each one a massive crowd gathered each time. But both times the Titans’ defence was able to punch the ball away and out of bounds.

The game was over. The Titans won with a score of 21–24 and kept their perfect 2–0 record to start the season.

Kenny couldn’t help but smile. His goofy grin nearly took up the entirety of his face.

The players of the varsity team all celebrated together happily, probably going a bit overboard with the celebrations, though they were wont to do such a thing.

Kenny laughed as the players threw a bucket of icy, colourful sports drink over the team's coaches—a tradition that carried over to every win, not just the first of the season like he had assumed the previous week.

Though as he continued to watch the celebrations, his smile slowly faded. He and the JV team were yet to be afforded such relief yet. Both of their games had ended in losses, this one today finished with a score of 20–13 in favour of the ACP Knights JV squad.

‘It’s over, right? We can go home now?’ Kenny’s mom asked.

Kenny nodded, following behind his parents as they all made their way out of the stands and back to the car park.

His mind was brought back to Jackson, the one who had kept up with him throughout summer training camp. Kenny hoped he would be back, it didn’t have to be soon, just eventually. They’d lost so many players that a total nobody had to be brought in without even having to bother with tryouts just so they could get the numbers up to have the minimum amount of players required for the team.

“If we had Jackson, would we have won?” This question stuck with Kenny for the whole drive home, but so did another thought—He HAD to make it onto the varsity team as quickly as possible.

He had to prove that he deserved a spot, and he couldn't allow himself to be dragged down along with the rest of the JV team.

All the Titans’ players were given a day to rest after their games, but the day after that they were back in their familiar slice of hell for more of Coach Otsen’s gruelling “training”.

Kenny slipped his weighted vest on—his shoulders sagged less under the extra weight than when he first put it on. He could breathe easier, and he was actually running through proper drills now. Slowly, sure, but still, it was better than being a slug crawling on the ground like he had been for so long during those early days of summer.

Jackson’s vest was left on a rack, isolated and permeating loneliness. Kenny stared at it, wondering if he should put it on to have Jackson here in spirit at least. But there was no way he could carry Jackson’s weight on top of his own, not yet at least.

‘One day,’ he muttered to himself.

‘He’ll be back,’ Shane’s voice startled Kenny. The older player had come over to retrieve his own vest and slip it on. ‘At least I hope he will.’ Shane smiled at the younger boy and then looked at Jackson's lone vest. ‘He was one of the more promising rookies, alongside you, of course.’

‘God knows we need him.’

Shane tilted his head. ‘Ahh.’ Recognition washed over his face and he smiled again. ‘Don’t worry about losing in the beginning. It’s a slow process, getting used to this kind of training and this team. You’ll start winning in the second half of the season. That’s what happened when I was on the JV squad last year anyway.’

Kenny blinked, staring at Shane in confusion. ‘Huh?’

‘What?’ Shane seemed equally confused.

‘Why were you in JV last year? You’re the best player on the team!’

Shane tilted his head once more. ‘Well, I was a freshman last year. All freshmen start in JV on the Titans, and it’s not like I was always the best player, I might not even be the best now still.’

‘...HUH?!’ Kenny looked Shane over again, the star captain of the Titans wouldn’t LOOK out of place on an NFL roster, let alone being a high school kid, but to think he was ONLY a YEAR older than Kenny, who looked like an elementary schooler in comparison was mind-boggling.

‘I… uh… um… I’m gonna… I’m just gonna go,’ Kenny stammered, shuffling away from the conversation and going to retrieve the pieces of his blown mind while he got warmed up for that evening’s session of practice.

As Kenny walked away, Shane moved closer to Jackson’s vest and looked it over for a long hard while before taking the weights for its pockets and adding them to his own.

During the team’s laps around the field, Kenny could actually RUN. Though it was a jog at the same pace as a rather brisk walk, he was still jogging at least.

But… he wasn’t alone. The “replacement” was there by his side, keeping up with him every step of the way.

The kid who had been brought in to fill Jackson’s shoes was named Frederick Watson, and Frederick was not subjected to the same hellish regimen that Kenny and the other REAL players were, so, he did not need to wear a vest.

Coach Otsen said Frederick wearing a vest would only defeat the purpose of having him there in the first place and end up breaking the boy.

Coach Otsen wasn’t afraid to let it be known that Frederick was only there to make up the numbers for the team, practically admitting that he didn’t care at all about this boy’s development and would throw him away IF Jackson returned.

As they ran, Kenny kept staring at Frederick. Frederick was not an athletic boy. He was a twig, and too tall for his own good it seemed. Watching him run was like watching Bambi try to take their first steps.

Frederick’s freckled skin was burning under the Arizona sun, and he was sweating and puffing as much as Kenny, even though he was running without any restrictions.

‘U-Um… i-is there a reason you’re staring at me s-so much, Kenny?’

‘It’s Ken. And didn’t you let the Knights score the game-winning touchdown the other day, Fred?’

‘Sorry, Ken… and I-I told you, you can call me Freddy,’ Fred mumbled. ‘And um. I’m really sorry about the game but I tried my best!’

‘And your best wasn’t good enough!’ Kenny grit his teeth. ‘You shouldn’t even be here! We should’ve at least got someone who looks like they’ve played ANY sport before.’

Fred flinched, and the two soon finished their last lap. Kenny walked away to get a drink, and Fred followed him.

‘Why are you even here?’ Kenny asked angrily, scooping up his water bottle.

‘Um, my bag is just there, next to yours.’ Fred pointed out.

‘I meant here in general! Why are you on the team?’

Fred bit his cheek and bent down to get his water. ‘I… my dad wanted me to pick up a sport now that I’m in high school… this is the only team that took me. I-I was here for the tryouts originally but didn’t make it. I was really excited when Coach Otsen put out the call for an emergency player again though.’

Kenny narrowed his eyes. ‘Yeah, must be nice not having to actually try ‘cause everyone knows you’re just a fill-in.’

Fred looked down at himself. ‘If this is because of the vest I…I wanted to wear one but, Coach Otsen said I couldn’t… I…’ Fred sighed and sat down, the rest of the JV squad was finishing up, still lagging far behind the trailblazing Kenny.

‘I’m sorry I’m no good, and I know you guys aren’t expecting me to do anything… I haven’t even touched the ball on offence yet and I keep making mistakes that cost us on defence but I…I’m just doing my best.’

Kenny was about to say something snarky again but Fred cut him off.

‘And I know that’s not enough!’ Fred sniffled. ‘I don’t even think I want to be here anymore, what’s the point if no one cares that I’m here? I’m just a number, even Coach Otsen admitted that… but I can’t quit. If I quit for my own selfish reasons, then I screw everything up for ALL of you.’

Kenny was taken aback by the selfless resolve that Fred possessed, not expecting it from him. He had honestly thought Fred would end up quitting sooner or later, but, to hear that he wouldn’t, not because he wants to keep playing but just for the sake of everyone else that has been so resentful towards him, it was shocking.

‘I just hope that Jackson kid recovers and comes back soon… then I won’t let any of you down anymore,’ Fred said, walking away.

Kenny thought he should apologise, though he hesitated, and then Fred was gone before he could say anything.

The rest of practice went on as normal, though Kenny didn’t speak with Fred or even glare at him for the rest of the day.

When Coach Otsen finally called an end to the session, Fred thanked the coaches and then quickly hurried away, while Kenny made his way over to dump his vest.

Shane was the last of the varsity players to shed his vest, gingerly walking over to the racks and dripping with sweat as he emptied out the added weight and put it back into Jackson’s vest where it belonged, he couldn't remember the last session where he’d struggled this much.

‘Geez… you were carrying my useless butt around out there? You really didn’t have to.’

Both Kenny and Shane turned around, surprised to see Jackson standing there, two crutches supporting him.