Page 47
Story: Free Agent
Montgomery Rudolph had been trying me for the last… shit, however long we’d been out here playing. At first, I wasn’t sure why he kept at me. I had a solid fifty pounds on him, so when it came to a head-to-head thing, he wasn’t getting past me.
He wasn’t trying to, though.
He was trying to exhaust me.
And I couldn’t front, it was working.
Where I outmatched him in size and strength, he made up for it in speed and agility, making me have to work hard to keep him away from my quarterback. That was my job no matter who we were playing, but it was a specific strong suit for the Behemoths, which meant I really had to be on my shit.
The noise from the crowd was deafening, so loud that I couldn’t actually make out their chants, but I didn’t need to.I tuned them out as I took my place at the line of scrimmage, body tense, mind alert, eyes taking it all in, ready to spring into action as soon as the snap happened.
Monty was directly across from me.
What are you about to do?
I knew what our play was. Trent was throwing it to Rut, to get it down the field and get some momentum going. The Behemoths’ goal was going to be disrupting that pass.
Monty, specifically, would most likely be going for a sack. It was his personal “specialty”, besides the fact that it was so disruptive for whatever team on the receiving end of it.
It was on me to make sure that didn’t happen.
As soon as the ball snapped, Monty exploded off the line. He didn’t go for Trent, though.
He came straight at me.
Fuck.
He was choosing chaos. Instead of trying to get into the protected area around our quarterback while he searched for an opening to pass, he was going to try to disrupt it, creating an opening for someone else.
I drove my cleats into the turf, bearing down as he hit me with as much force as the short burst of speed allowed. Hands planted in my chest, he tried his best to take me down, but I was anchored.
Once that initial impact has dissipated, it was nothing to shove him off.
The ball was already down the field anyway.
I could hear Monty talking shit under his breath as we separated to start the next play. Since I couldn’t actually make out what he was saying, and also just didn’t give a fuck what he was saying, the only response I gave him was a grin.
From the look he gave, he hated that shit.
Perfect.
We were here to play football, not whatever else he was trying to do.
I was focused.
The score was tied.
Second overtime.
We had to close this up.
The ball snapped again, and this time it was me who lunged forward in an aggressive charge that knocked Monty out of commission pretty immediately, creating a necessary hole for Trent and Rut to make their shit happen again.
The pass was beautiful.
Rut snatched it out of the air, falling in the process but then he was back on his feet, running it as many yards as he could get before ducking out of bounds to avoid a tackle.
Second down, successful.
He wasn’t trying to, though.
He was trying to exhaust me.
And I couldn’t front, it was working.
Where I outmatched him in size and strength, he made up for it in speed and agility, making me have to work hard to keep him away from my quarterback. That was my job no matter who we were playing, but it was a specific strong suit for the Behemoths, which meant I really had to be on my shit.
The noise from the crowd was deafening, so loud that I couldn’t actually make out their chants, but I didn’t need to.I tuned them out as I took my place at the line of scrimmage, body tense, mind alert, eyes taking it all in, ready to spring into action as soon as the snap happened.
Monty was directly across from me.
What are you about to do?
I knew what our play was. Trent was throwing it to Rut, to get it down the field and get some momentum going. The Behemoths’ goal was going to be disrupting that pass.
Monty, specifically, would most likely be going for a sack. It was his personal “specialty”, besides the fact that it was so disruptive for whatever team on the receiving end of it.
It was on me to make sure that didn’t happen.
As soon as the ball snapped, Monty exploded off the line. He didn’t go for Trent, though.
He came straight at me.
Fuck.
He was choosing chaos. Instead of trying to get into the protected area around our quarterback while he searched for an opening to pass, he was going to try to disrupt it, creating an opening for someone else.
I drove my cleats into the turf, bearing down as he hit me with as much force as the short burst of speed allowed. Hands planted in my chest, he tried his best to take me down, but I was anchored.
Once that initial impact has dissipated, it was nothing to shove him off.
The ball was already down the field anyway.
I could hear Monty talking shit under his breath as we separated to start the next play. Since I couldn’t actually make out what he was saying, and also just didn’t give a fuck what he was saying, the only response I gave him was a grin.
From the look he gave, he hated that shit.
Perfect.
We were here to play football, not whatever else he was trying to do.
I was focused.
The score was tied.
Second overtime.
We had to close this up.
The ball snapped again, and this time it was me who lunged forward in an aggressive charge that knocked Monty out of commission pretty immediately, creating a necessary hole for Trent and Rut to make their shit happen again.
The pass was beautiful.
Rut snatched it out of the air, falling in the process but then he was back on his feet, running it as many yards as he could get before ducking out of bounds to avoid a tackle.
Second down, successful.
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