Peak

Ch. 4: Brigfield

"Gentlemen," Coach's voice echoed as the locker room fell silent. "What happened last year when we played Brigfield? Anyone wanna tell me?" He pointed at random players asking them "you?" Matt Werkshaw hesitantly raised his hand.

"They kicked us out of the playoffs, Coach?"

"Exactly. They kicked us out! They kicked us out of the playoffs! Anyone wanna tell me why? Anyone?" No one spoke for what felt like forever.

Eventually, David Simmons said, "We weren't playing our best that night, sir, and our-"

"Bullshit!" Coach cut him off. "That loss was on a whole different level than physical errors. Where were the errors, gentlemen?"

"Mental." Antoine answered confidently.

"Ahhh, inside your head...the errors weren't made against Brigfield...they were made against yourselves. You know why? Cause you were scared. All of ya. Scared because the odds were against you. Scared because they're bigger, faster, stronger. Scared because they have three state championships. Scared because you doubted yourselves."

Coach's voice grew in volume and passion as his preach continued, "I've had enough of people judging off of the odds. I've had enough of doubting our abilities. I've had enough of being afraid. Tonight is gonna be different. I don't wanna see a team who looks like a deer in the headlights, a team who all the sudden has forgotten how to fight." Coach paused and took a deep sigh while his eyes relaxed and lit up at the same time.

"I want a team who forgets the odds, and proves everyone wrong. I want a team willing to sacrifice everything until the very last second! I want a team who knows what their capable of, and knows no boundaries! I want a team that looks fear dead in the eye an doesn't run away, but says 'Try me'...and I'll be damned if I'm lying when I say I see that team sitting in this very room...at this very moment. Gentlemen..." He outstretched his hand palm facing down and we all stood up and put ours on top.

Matt Werkshaw led the chant: "We are!"

"Eastside!"

"We are!"

"Eastside!"

"We are!"

"Eastside!"

"Eastside..."

"BIGHORNS!"

The team bolted out of the locker room and huddled just outside the field house. The marching band began booming our fight song as we jumped up and down. When we broke the banner and sprinted towards our side, the filled blue and white rival stands of Brigfield booed, but were soon dwarfed by the great red and gold sea.

The captains then walked out for the coin toss, and returned reporting we would be the receiving team.

When I did play last year, it was when we had a major lead against teams like McCormick. I've played challenging teams before back in junior high, but this was Brigfield, and this was Varsity. It was one of those rare situations where you know your own talent, but not in comparison to your opponent. I tried telling myself that I have to get used to the responsibility of starting the game as offense, but I couldn't help but let the idea of having to set the standard for the "match-up of the year" get to me.

"Hey, don't sweat it Shoes. They ain't as big as they look." Antoine said approaching me from my left.

"You actually played them last year man. I don't know what to expect." I replied.

"You think I wasn't nervous then? I still am- especially after losing 41-7. Expect their best, and give yours right back. A'ight?" I nodded slightly showing no sign of being convinced.

"Listen, Sam, look behind you. Look at that." Antoine continued, vaguely waving his hand towards the stands. I turned around and was greeted by the hundreds of Bighorns fans still rowdy as ever. "You got all then behind you no matter what. You know why? Cause they know what Sam Delmont can do. So just keep showin' em."

"Thanks man, you're my brother. I really appreciate it." We slapped hands before he walked away.

I looked back at the stands one last time, but towards the top standing against the wall I saw a familiar face. The lights had a glare to them and they were too far away leaving their appearance a bit blurry, but I had definitely seen this person before.

"Sometime today Shoes!" I hear someone call out. I put my helmet on and ran out on the field dumbfounded.

The first quarter had the fans on their feet too many times to count. The score was tied at 7. Nearing the end of the second quarter, those numbers remained unchanged, but the ball was ours.

There were about three minutes left and too many errors were being made to pull ahead. Coach called a timeout to allow us to huddle.

"Listen, guys, I know Brigfield seems like a tough team but just think we've been holdin' our own! We can't afford any more errors though. Gus, you can't run straight into the tackle like that, alright? Shake it off, bud. Remember, boys, this is a mental game. Be smart." Matt encouraged before rattling off the play.

I set up in my position and thought to myself, "Be smart be smart don't fuck up it's coming to you be ready for the ball this is your chance change the game..."

As soon as Matt called "hut", I sprinted down the field. Coming to you... I watched the ball from the second it was snapped until I found myself perfectly aligned with the spiral. My thoughts were a blank page with nothing but pure focus comprising the emptiness. I felt my heart was racing either from the run or the adrenaline.

I saw the ball hurdling towards me as I leaped in the air to catch the slightly high throw. The moment froze and it suddenly felt like I was floating, on top of the world. In reality I was hanging in the air for about a half a second until my right foot came in contact with the turf alarmingly rough as the Brigfield cornerback tackled me.

And then I heard a snap.