Coach Waters had fumed. He sat and listened with a pasted on look of indifference, nodding his head, but the entire time his blood boiled beneath the surface.
A semi-apologetic Coach Daniel Tanner of the Prescott Panthers had sat across from him, drumming his fingers on the desk next to a stack of photocopied papers.
He'd said he was sorry, he assured Coach Waters that he hadn't so much as glanced at them except to find out what they were. He couldn't however assure him of much more. It's possible that there were more copies. It's possible that his boys circulated them amongst themselves, but they were his kids, and he was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt, take their word for it. It was an indiscretion. No one would say who obtained the original copies. He was sorry it had happened, and he returned them to Coach Waters as a show of good faith.
But Coach Waters still fumed. He thanked Coach Tanner for the head's up. He shook his hand and watched the rival coach leave his office, then proceeded to take some of the medication his doctor prescribed for just such instances.
After a few hours passed, he gathered his team in the locker room. Anyone and everyone who had access to the Flyers playbook was there, from the equipment manager to the water boy, first, second and third stringers. Most of them expected a pep-talk about the upcoming game. Most of them didn't predict what he was going to say next.
"You know what these are?" He snarled at the team, fully aware that he was taking out one person's transgression out on all of them. His waved a stack full of loose papers in his left hand at them. Most of the team shot curious glances to each other.
"These are copies of our G-damn play book, that's what they are!" He threw the papers towards the team for emphasis. Players closest to him picked up a few loose sheets as the mood of the room instantly dimmed. "Coach Tanner was kind enough to return them to me. Coach Tanner - of the Prescott Panthers! The guys you are tied for first with! That tells me one of two things. One - either one of you guys were so damn careless with your book that Prescott got a hold of it, photocopied a bunch of plays and got it back without you knowing, or worse. One of you did this deliberately." He eyeballed everyone in the room.
"There are no words to tell you how disappointed I am right now. All I can tell you is that you all better plan on working your asses off this week to learn an entire game's worth of plays, or you better kiss your season goodbye, because State is as good as gone. The person or persons responsible better spend the rest of their time in the chapel praying that I don't find out who they are. All of you, on the field. Five a.m. tomorrow. No exceptions. You aren't there? You don't play. Period. That includes the two of you as well." He pointed an accusing finger towards both Dar and Luke. He brought his hand back into a fist that found its way to his side. There was nothing else he could say without resorting to a string of four letter expletives, so instead he pounded his fist against a locker and stormed out of the room.
SJS Football- The Playbook, The Problem
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Blitzen
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SJS Football- The Playbook, The Problem
TGIF -Tanks Go In First
"Miss Douglas, we know about the nuts."
"Sam's the most amazing gamer EVER, and I love her footwear." - Laurel Fitte
"Miss Douglas, we know about the nuts."
"Sam's the most amazing gamer EVER, and I love her footwear." - Laurel Fitte
Re: SJS Football- The Playbook, The Problem
Oby hit the field that next morning, Damn, 5 o'clock should only come once a day. It was dark, and the stadium lights didn't do much to disperse the either the darkness of the day, or of the mood everyone was feeling. It was dark, dawn not yet breaking. It was wet, with the morning dew still crisp on the ground. Worse yet, it was COLD. Rhode Island in the winter was cold when the sun was up, much less before any warmth could be felt from the star. Coach was around, and pissed off, even those students with flame powers couldn't generate a spark, let alone any kind of flame to keep warm with. Oby jumped up and down in place, trying to get his legs warm. Even in full cold weather Underarmor gear, he was feeling the chill. Seeing it too, as plumes of air filtered out through his facemask, billowing in a white cloud in front of him.
"Whoever the *&%$face is that coughed up our playbook is in for a world of pain!" Biff's voice rang out over the team. Oby turned and saw the large boy, and just shook his head. Biff was dressed in his pads, his jersey, pants, and not much else. No long sleeved shirts, no long socks, no cold weather gear to speak of at all. "I find this guy, after I'm done with him, I'm taping him to the quad flagpole, with a sign on him so everyone can see who the asshole is." Cheers of agreement rang out from many of the team.
Oby looked around trying to put a face to those that were jumping on Biff's bandwagon, and spotted more than a few; maybe too many. The last thing the team needed at this point was a witchunt and a lynching.
"Biff, why don't you save that energy for learning the new plays? It's going to be a long enough day, without wasting energy ."
"What's the matter, Oby? You don't want to catch this guy?" Biff squared off on Oby. "Or maybe there's a reason, you don't want him caught."
"Right, I came back to this school after a year abroad, after losing the state championship, only to piss away a chance to win it?" Oby quirked an angry eyebrow at Biff. "Get real. I'm just saying that we need to worry about this game first, then we can worry about figuring out how, and who."
Coach took that opportunity to walk towards the group, "Yer damn right!! You ladies don't have time to worry about when the next time you're going to piss is, much less who got our playbook!!" Coach's voice was almost an angry growl. "Since you all have so much energy, we better burn it off before we start to go over the plays." Coach blew his whistle as he walked to the 50 yard line. "Suicides!! NOW!!!"
The collective groan was almost loud enough to be heard at the dorms.
"Whoever the *&%$face is that coughed up our playbook is in for a world of pain!" Biff's voice rang out over the team. Oby turned and saw the large boy, and just shook his head. Biff was dressed in his pads, his jersey, pants, and not much else. No long sleeved shirts, no long socks, no cold weather gear to speak of at all. "I find this guy, after I'm done with him, I'm taping him to the quad flagpole, with a sign on him so everyone can see who the asshole is." Cheers of agreement rang out from many of the team.
Oby looked around trying to put a face to those that were jumping on Biff's bandwagon, and spotted more than a few; maybe too many. The last thing the team needed at this point was a witchunt and a lynching.
"Biff, why don't you save that energy for learning the new plays? It's going to be a long enough day, without wasting energy ."
"What's the matter, Oby? You don't want to catch this guy?" Biff squared off on Oby. "Or maybe there's a reason, you don't want him caught."
"Right, I came back to this school after a year abroad, after losing the state championship, only to piss away a chance to win it?" Oby quirked an angry eyebrow at Biff. "Get real. I'm just saying that we need to worry about this game first, then we can worry about figuring out how, and who."
Coach took that opportunity to walk towards the group, "Yer damn right!! You ladies don't have time to worry about when the next time you're going to piss is, much less who got our playbook!!" Coach's voice was almost an angry growl. "Since you all have so much energy, we better burn it off before we start to go over the plays." Coach blew his whistle as he walked to the 50 yard line. "Suicides!! NOW!!!"
The collective groan was almost loud enough to be heard at the dorms.
Sometimes the only way to see the light, is a journey through darkness
Re: SJS Football- The Playbook, The Problem
Math sucked. Everyone knew that, hell, there was a SONG about that, but sometimes things were just as simple as one and one.
This was one of those things, in Brandon's mind. The playbook had been stolen. Therefore, they had to learn new plays. He was up and running on the field, warming up, well before the 5 AM ultimatum. Practice wouldn't be FUN, but damned if he wasn't going to give it his best shot. And then if something ran him over, at least he couldn't say it was because he hadn't given his best. Just like every game, every practice. It all got left on the field, every time. He could barely light a candle after the games.
He heard Biff's pronouncement and agreed, but that was a tiny, unimportant part of him. What mattered now was the focus, the focus. To win the game, they had to learn new plays. If A, then B. Revenge and a solid ass-kicking could come later.
Brandon ran the suicides, the laps, and the plays all without making a sound besides labored breathing. He worked to memorize the plays, pounding them into his brain the same way he pounded his feet into the turf and his body into the opposing players. He wasn't Dar, with his hulking build, and he wasn't Sam with her kicking, or anyone else. He just did his best, and knew it. He was Brandon Jordan, by God, and the other team was going to fear him.
This was one of those things, in Brandon's mind. The playbook had been stolen. Therefore, they had to learn new plays. He was up and running on the field, warming up, well before the 5 AM ultimatum. Practice wouldn't be FUN, but damned if he wasn't going to give it his best shot. And then if something ran him over, at least he couldn't say it was because he hadn't given his best. Just like every game, every practice. It all got left on the field, every time. He could barely light a candle after the games.
He heard Biff's pronouncement and agreed, but that was a tiny, unimportant part of him. What mattered now was the focus, the focus. To win the game, they had to learn new plays. If A, then B. Revenge and a solid ass-kicking could come later.
Brandon ran the suicides, the laps, and the plays all without making a sound besides labored breathing. He worked to memorize the plays, pounding them into his brain the same way he pounded his feet into the turf and his body into the opposing players. He wasn't Dar, with his hulking build, and he wasn't Sam with her kicking, or anyone else. He just did his best, and knew it. He was Brandon Jordan, by God, and the other team was going to fear him.
We've got nothing to keep us from Startover, Georgia.
We'll leave all the baggage and start over there.
We'll leave all the baggage and start over there.
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Blitzen
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Re: SJS Football- The Playbook, The Problem
I haaaaate suicides! Sam whined internally. And I hate the cold, and I hate 5 am, and I hate... She had to smile despite everything going on. I'm so not a tank.
It wasn't so much that the plays were compromised, it was football. There are only so many formations and plays that could be run. The problem was that they took an entire summer to learn the calls for certain plays. The playbook being stolen was like letting Prescott know in advance what they'd be doing, each time Stephen called out "Red Something Something." or "Blue Forty Two." Drills were more of Coach Waters taking out his frustration.
She could understand that part. They worked so hard. All the practices, the two-a-days, the extra time spent on the field. She couldn't help but wonder who or what happened. She didn't want to think Damian. He was a good guy... right? So what if he once played for the Panthers. He was a Flyer now. He wanted to win just as much as the rest of them, didn't he?
She shook off the thought. It was okay. At least they'd be in tip top condition when they faced the Panthers. Then again, maybe they'd be too exhausted to move.
"I want to see some bear crawls!" Coach Waters called out. Sam smiled and groaned to herself.
I am SO not a tank.
It wasn't so much that the plays were compromised, it was football. There are only so many formations and plays that could be run. The problem was that they took an entire summer to learn the calls for certain plays. The playbook being stolen was like letting Prescott know in advance what they'd be doing, each time Stephen called out "Red Something Something." or "Blue Forty Two." Drills were more of Coach Waters taking out his frustration.
She could understand that part. They worked so hard. All the practices, the two-a-days, the extra time spent on the field. She couldn't help but wonder who or what happened. She didn't want to think Damian. He was a good guy... right? So what if he once played for the Panthers. He was a Flyer now. He wanted to win just as much as the rest of them, didn't he?
She shook off the thought. It was okay. At least they'd be in tip top condition when they faced the Panthers. Then again, maybe they'd be too exhausted to move.
"I want to see some bear crawls!" Coach Waters called out. Sam smiled and groaned to herself.
I am SO not a tank.
TGIF -Tanks Go In First
"Miss Douglas, we know about the nuts."
"Sam's the most amazing gamer EVER, and I love her footwear." - Laurel Fitte
"Miss Douglas, we know about the nuts."
"Sam's the most amazing gamer EVER, and I love her footwear." - Laurel Fitte
Re: SJS Football- The Playbook, The Problem
Despite the mind numbing cold, despite having to learn new calls, especially despite his rebuttal of Biff, it was still there. That niggling tickle in the back of his mind that kept asking "who?" You could feel it, like a blanket over the practice, smothering the work. You sure didn't need to be a mind reader to know that it was on the minds of everyone there. It was distracting, it was taking away from practice, and most of all it was annoying.
What was worse was the glances that were made in one direction. Even Oby couldn't help himself from thinking it. It couldn't be Damian. I've been on the field doing extra work with the guy. He's worked harder than most getting ready for these games Oby shook his head, No way, couldn't be him...But then who else?
They'd finished the suicides and the bearcrawls, and the only thing that could be heard was the labored breathing of the team, as they collectively tried to catch their breath. Nobody was talking. There was little chatter, or comraderie going on, not like usual, and that was bad. Maybe this was what Prescott really wanted. Not so much knowing the plays, you could always change that, but trying to divide the team, stop them from working together. Oby knew that had to end.
"Hey, Dar, Damian. It's not going to matter if the 'kittens' know our plays or not. You guys do, in practice and can't stop us anyway." Oby grinned a cocky grin, "How about we work our wager for real. Offense loses, we buy the team pizza. Defense loses, you buy the team pizza!" He quickly slapped on his helmet, to hide the uneasy look. He could only hope this might keep everyone from thinking about things.
What was worse was the glances that were made in one direction. Even Oby couldn't help himself from thinking it. It couldn't be Damian. I've been on the field doing extra work with the guy. He's worked harder than most getting ready for these games Oby shook his head, No way, couldn't be him...But then who else?
They'd finished the suicides and the bearcrawls, and the only thing that could be heard was the labored breathing of the team, as they collectively tried to catch their breath. Nobody was talking. There was little chatter, or comraderie going on, not like usual, and that was bad. Maybe this was what Prescott really wanted. Not so much knowing the plays, you could always change that, but trying to divide the team, stop them from working together. Oby knew that had to end.
"Hey, Dar, Damian. It's not going to matter if the 'kittens' know our plays or not. You guys do, in practice and can't stop us anyway." Oby grinned a cocky grin, "How about we work our wager for real. Offense loses, we buy the team pizza. Defense loses, you buy the team pizza!" He quickly slapped on his helmet, to hide the uneasy look. He could only hope this might keep everyone from thinking about things.
Sometimes the only way to see the light, is a journey through darkness
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Sunfire Dervish
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Re: SJS Football- The Playbook, The Problem
Diyar had his hands on his knees, his breathing still not steadying out. Suicides were child's play. Bear crawls a waste of time. He'd been on fun runs that should have taken more out of him. But this morning, this practice...it just seemed much more stressful, the intensity turned up even more.
He looked to his left. Slowly standing up was the kid he *thought* had been his partner in crime. Damian had his back to Diyar, his hands moving up to the top of his helmet.
A quick glance around told Diyar he wasn't the only one watching the former Panther like a hawk. He narrowed his eyes, frowning. All the weeks - hell, months - of working with him, training with him, getting his trust, for this to happen.
Despite the coach's powers, there was a small voice in the back of Diyar's head. Shon...you don't know if he did do it. He is your ally now, he's stood next to you many weeks. Why would he turn on you now?
Shouldn't you be gone right now? Diyar broke his stare, slowly standing up.
Shon...what could he possibly have to gain from helping his former team to win? He has a better chance of success with you.
Shut it.
DuBois was saying something, and Diyar turned around to catch what was being shouted. "...defense loses, you but the team pizza!" Diyar scowled, looking over at Damian. Looked like he'd get a good chance to see just where the loyalty was.
He looked to his left. Slowly standing up was the kid he *thought* had been his partner in crime. Damian had his back to Diyar, his hands moving up to the top of his helmet.
A quick glance around told Diyar he wasn't the only one watching the former Panther like a hawk. He narrowed his eyes, frowning. All the weeks - hell, months - of working with him, training with him, getting his trust, for this to happen.
Despite the coach's powers, there was a small voice in the back of Diyar's head. Shon...you don't know if he did do it. He is your ally now, he's stood next to you many weeks. Why would he turn on you now?
Shouldn't you be gone right now? Diyar broke his stare, slowly standing up.
Shon...what could he possibly have to gain from helping his former team to win? He has a better chance of success with you.
Shut it.
DuBois was saying something, and Diyar turned around to catch what was being shouted. "...defense loses, you but the team pizza!" Diyar scowled, looking over at Damian. Looked like he'd get a good chance to see just where the loyalty was.
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Shadows' Mirage
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Re: SJS Football- The Playbook, The Problem
Damian tuned to Oby after he felt pressure and sting slam across his helmet. He somewhat jumped from the hit, bawling up his fists to expect the worst. Then a slight hesitant smile broke across his face when he saw who it was.
"Sure, I got the pizza if the D loses. But, that's if the D loses."
He tried to make his smile bigger, and tried to press off some type of..."I didn't do It" expression. He knew that there was no need though as he glanced around the team. All eyes were on him. He didn't have to be a mind reader to know that the blame was all pointed at him.
Diyar even had a eye scowled at him, which really made him feel uncomfortable. Of all the players on the team he felt that Diyar would be the last one to even suspect him of treachery. Then again, he was a former Panther. This was what he was afraid of, the team not trusting him. He thought he earned that.
But, I guess, once a Panther always a Panther.
Damian’s ill thoughts were cut short with Coach blowing his whistle then yelling, "Wind sprints...Endzone to Endzone. You ladies might just vomit today."
"Sure, I got the pizza if the D loses. But, that's if the D loses."
He tried to make his smile bigger, and tried to press off some type of..."I didn't do It" expression. He knew that there was no need though as he glanced around the team. All eyes were on him. He didn't have to be a mind reader to know that the blame was all pointed at him.
Diyar even had a eye scowled at him, which really made him feel uncomfortable. Of all the players on the team he felt that Diyar would be the last one to even suspect him of treachery. Then again, he was a former Panther. This was what he was afraid of, the team not trusting him. He thought he earned that.
But, I guess, once a Panther always a Panther.
Damian’s ill thoughts were cut short with Coach blowing his whistle then yelling, "Wind sprints...Endzone to Endzone. You ladies might just vomit today."
"I have a reason to be scared of my Shadow. She talks to me, at all the wrong times" - ME