The Savage Brothers | ✓

CHAPTER 25: The Winter Games

A long chapter for my long-ass absence. College can be a real bitch. Anyways, vote and comment. Enjoy!

CHAPTER 25: The Winter Games

B R A N D O N

It's Christmas Eve. But there's no time to celebrate yet because the games will start in a couple of hours. And coach has no chill.

"Let's review again!" he roars. "Rodriguez, which Tackle from the Ironfists are you assigned to?"

Mark sits properly. "Number 52, coach! Christian Joseph."

Coach nods. "Midori, who's your opposing guard?"

"Ernesto Abad, number 67," Lee answers.

"And what's his weak spot?" Coach counters.

"His footing, Coach. If I revered my block, I know I can turn his strength against him."

"Very good, Lee. Number 23! Who's your lookout when the ball's passed to you?"

"Their best tackle is Ren Kiyoko, 63," Bob answers. "But usually, they will use my opposing running back, Rory McGrawhill, to distract my run. It is what they do in their past games."

"Greenleaf, we've been practicing your kick. 'Ya think you can deliver a good one when you're in the range of 30 yards?"

Simon visibly gulped but his face was determined. "I did it once and I'll do it again, Coach."

Coach smirked. His eyes went to Darren and I. "If you two don't want to graduate black-eyed, be sure to not lose it on the field, got it?" he growled.

He's talking about Darren's anger management. Last time, both of us went rolling down the field because he kept on blaming me for my unsuccessful passes when it's actually him who didn't know how to catch properly, making us lose our points and a yellow card from the Ref.

"Yes, coach," me and Darren firmly said.

Coach sighed. His face turned softer, smiling as he rests his hands onto his hips. He turns to all of us. "I would just want you guys to know how lucky I am to have you. I treat and love you like my own. You make me feel like a proud dad. I've seen you all play ever since 8th grade tryouts. God, you're all so big now."

He takes a pause. Coach hangs his head. But his voice clearly showed his mixed feelings. "...and next year, you're gonna leave your old man behind." He sniffed silently.

We teased Coach by swarming him with our sappy hugs and annoying awes. But it's obvious we mean it. Bob cried and I think I saw three in our team shed a tear or two. I'm gonna miss my homies.

"BOYS! I'M ALREADY PROUD OF YOU!" Coach yells so we can get off of him. He smacks his teary-face with his knuckles. "After months of training, here we are at last. This may be the final game for you seniors, but we will leave a legacy before you go on your ways after graduation."

"Yeah!" we all shout.

"Let's show those Chicagoan shenanigans and our beloved school how we Redhill Warriors roll!" The team burst into cheers and applauses.

The games will happen in our school, and the Chicago Ironfists will be our guests. Not gonna lie, it's a bit of a pressure that we're playing on our base. It'll be a shame if we lose on our own grounds. But we're gonna show them that we Redhill Warriors will not bow down without a fight.

Bob rounds our team to settle down and join the prayer circle. He tells us to bow our heads and close our eyes. Crossing our arms, we each grab a hold of hands of the people beside us. Although some of our teammates don't really identify themselves with any religion, they went along anyway. ("Besides, every help counts," Simon once said to me, shrugging. "And if this Divine can help us win, then I don't see the problem asking.")