Page 44 of Jockstraps & Newspapers

Chapter twenty-seven

A game well played

Elliot

P ulling on the uniform for the second game should, normally, not feel so weighted.

However, as Elliot tugged on his mesh jersey over the protective gear, it was about a hundred pounds heavier than normal.

Probably because, before, he was never worried about public perception.

Win or lose, they would play the best game they could.

However, today…everyone was watching. The vultures were out, ready to pick him apart.

Any fumble, misstep, or mispronounced word and they would pounce.

“Bonesaw, you got a sec?” Renner asked, nodding for him to come away from the team.

Lee continued the rally cry for everyone, getting the team pumped while Renner pulled Elliot out of the locker room and into one of the many side areas not yet in the arena. “Hey, when I said I need you a hundred and ten percent Bonesaw, I meant it.”

“I know, I’m more than that, Coach, I’m good.” Elliot nodded his head vigorously.

“Good, cause this games just a game. I need you to put that big Minotaur noggin into it and get it together. This team, your family, is depending on you to be the Elliot they trust, the captain they admire, their soon to be coach. Fuck the press junket, I’ll be there to keep you together.

This game, this night is all that matters, you got that? ” Renner cocked a brow.

“I got it,” Elliot clapped Renner on the shoulder. Renner mimicked the touch on Elliot’s other shoulder. “I won’t let you down.”

“Look, I know I put the pressure on for the press junket but you gotta shake that off for now. Forget it even exists. Your girl, the world, and King’s Fall is out there looking for a good game and only Elliot Bonesaw can give it to them.” Renner slapped his palm against Elliot’s gear.

“Man, I’m gonna have to write some of this down to use for next year…if I’m still going to be coach next year.” He faltered, feeling the sting of uncertainty bite into his muscles.

“Hey, don’t you dare think about that now.

What happens, happens. If McMatterson doesn’t think it through, that’s on him.

Don’t act like Maylor and Tritus haven’t both put counter offers on the table for you.

Don’t think for a second that Toad and the whole team won’t follow you to another team for you.

You are the team, Elliot, and some fuckwit, big shot, money bag isn’t gonna change that.

” Renner beamed, slapping Elliot’s gear again.

“Thanks coach,” Elliot smiled back, squeezing Renner’s shoulder.

“Your head in game now, Bonesaw?”

“Two hundred percent.”

“Good, then lets fucking show these people what being a Knight is all about, huh?” Elliot and Renner slapped palms together before jogging back to the locker room.

The hooting and roaring from his team as they got in formation to hit the field filled him with pride.

Fuck everything else. His coach was right.

Just the game, just my team. He shoved his mouth guard into his mouth and shoulder bumped Toad for good luck.

He stood at the front, fist raised in the air.

“Who are we?” he called.

“King’s Fall Knights!” his team roared back.

“And what do Knights do?” He ripped around on his hooves, head low, ready to charge.

“DEFEND THE CITY!”

“LETS! GOOOOO!”

A cacophony of sound blasted his ears as they burst out of the portal onto the field.

Glittering gold and purple filled the air, the scent of fresh grass and fried food couldn’t be sweeter.

Elliot hoisted the giant sword, a prop really, above his head and charged ahead.

The crowd lost it lovingly. The sea of people writhing in the stands, all cheering for him as the team came barreling out of the portal onto the field.

Elliot aimed the sword at the center of the field, and as per tradition with the King’s Fall Marauders, the captains faced off.

Their captain, a Orc named Fenn, raised his mighty mace and shield and faced Elliot down.

Their mutual grins would break a weaker jaw as Elliot swiveled out of his swing.

Like a dance they’d practiced a hundred times, they spun and kicked up the pitch around each other till they were weapon to weapon.

Nose to nose. Growling at each other, shoving against each other as the crowd ate it up.

They sank both their weapons into the field and watched them disappear in a sparkling smoke.

When they shook hands, Fenn chuckled, “Have a good game, Elliot.”

“Same to you, Fenn.” He squeezed the Orc’s hand for good measure before they brushed past each other for the crowd.

Elliot jogged halfway back to his huddle when he caught sight of her.

Cassie sat on Tens shoulders, just as she had the first game.

However, it wasn’t the Darling Sisters by her side.

Instead, arm in arm, the Bonesaw brothers stood beside Tens wearing their Elliot merch.

They raised their foam fingers and screamed his name.

Their shirts were King’s Fall Knights purple, gold cow print, with his face at the center of it.

He wanted to bemoan the embarrassment, but only pride and love swelled in his chest. Their tails swished behind them as they waved at him widely.

“Let’s go Elliot! He’s our bull! If he can’t win it, no one can!” they chanted with the crowd, stomping their hooves in tandem.

Elliot laughed, rolling his eyes as he joined the rest of the team on the field.

“You good?” Toad arched a scaley brow at him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“Better than good.” Elliot clapped a hand on his back. Head in the huddle, he scanned the swarm of his team. “Who’s ready to ball?”

E lliot was in a stalemate, locked in a tug of war with Fenn.

His hooves dug into the pitch as Fenn’s cleats ripped up grass behind him.

The scores were close, but still leaning in Elliot’s favor by five points.

If they could score another goal, it would be impossible for the Marauders to catch up.

However, that would include getting the iron wall Brutus through the goal post. The Marauders had a very skinny, very tall elf named Brutus.

It seemed the perfect idea to make him the ball.

Then Elliot tried to toss Brutus through the goal and realized he was part rock giant. He made Elliot sweat the first time.

“Elle!” was all the warning he got before a goliath man with a glorious purple mohawk launched Gurdy, their kangaroo shifter and also the ball, across the field.

In slow motion, Elliot and Fenn stopped to watch Gurdy spread his legs out, plant his feet to the post, and send himself the opposite way.

Unfortunately for Elliot, Fenn used their lax arms as a way to escape Elliot’s grip.

Fenn bound into the air, launching off two other of his teammates.

Flapping wings of Steve Birdman filled Elliot’s ears as he raced to catch Gurdy before Fenn.

Elliot charged, arms open to catch the flailing kangaroo man.

Deep, forest green hands got ahold of him first and Fenn hit the turf running.

It was a chase. Gurdy tucked under his arm, struggling to free himself, Fenn bulldozed his way toward the goal.

An entire team of King’s Fall Knights bolted for the goal.

Time ticked by slowly as Fenn’s teammates dropped to their hands and knees, giving him steppingstones to launch off of.

Elliot kicked his hooves into high gear.

Bounding into the air, hands out, he barely clipped Gurdy’s outstretched hands.

Fenn ripped the man out from under his arm and slam dunked him through the goal post. The area broke out into screaming applause as Gurdy rolled down the magic safety net.

Elliot looked up and found the time stopped.

Two minutes.

Fenn jogged backward, panting, waggling fingers at Elliot. “You got it in you to score once more, Bonesaw?”

Elliot helped Gurdy out of the goal net. Gurdy gulped for air. “I’m so sorry, Elliot, I didn’t—”

“Hey, no worries, we got two minutes,” Elliot nodded toward the points. “Or we tie, either way, this was a good game. That back leap was killer!”

“My legs are shaking. If they toss me again, I don’t think I can bounce.” Gurdy wiped sweat from his brow.

“Don’t worry, we’re on the defensive if anything.

Go see Toad, you don’t leave his side. We’re running the huddle havoc.

” Elliot signaled across the field to Toad, two back-to-back sign language ‘h’s.

Toad gave him a thumbs up as the crew began to move about their positions.

Three of the teammates switched out and Elliot found his spot near the back.

The reality was, they were tying up the game. There was no feasible way he could crack through their defenses in less than two minutes and get Brutus through the hoop. At the same time, there was no way for them to do the same.

A flag was waved and the time started again.

Bodies clashed together. Fabric upon protective gear upon bodies, they smashed together over and over.

A delicate struggle, one step forward, two pressed back, three forward.

The teams wove in and out of formations, keeping their ball under intense protection.

Elliot pierced through a crowd of them, getting ahold of Brutus. He’d barely hoisted him up above his head when the bell tolled.

Time was up.

They were tied.

Brutus howled with laughter from the air. “Whoa man, you’ve got to tell me your lift strategy!”

Elliot carefully put Brutus back down on his cleats before slapping hands together with the tall elf. “You’re exactly the reason I need one!”

Brutus tossed his head back, glorious silver tendrils flying about as he did. “I’m flattered, Bonesaw. You’re one hell of a player. Good game!”

“Good game!” Elliot slapped his shoulder, weaving out of their swarm and into his own.

Renner stood by the team as they huddled together. He grabbed Elliot by the shoulders and shook him vigorously. “Now, that’s what I’m talkin’ about, Bonesaw!”

Elliot laughed, pulling Renner into a tight embrace.

The whole team rushed in and before he knew it, Elliot nearly sank from the pressure of everyone’s love.

It was overwhelming that his lungs trembled.

Little husks of flesh in his chest, barely able to withhold a whisper of oxygen as he hugged his coach, and as many of them as he could, tightly.

Renner ruffled the hair at the back of his head before the team broke from their embrace.

“Now that? That was a nail biter! Good game team, we’ve got plenty to celebrate on that one. I want everyone lined up to thank the Marauders and then it’s showers for the press junket!”

With their marching orders, everyone bolted across the pitch toward the center where the Marauders were already forming.

Elliot’s heart thundered in his chest as the adrenaline viciously attacked him.

Even inhaling deeply, and exhaling slowly, did nothing to slow its progress through his blood stream.

Amped up wasn’t even a good enough descriptor.

Then Fenn came to him and they slapped hands together, grinning from ear to ear. Fenn chuckled, breathlessly, “Good game, man.”

“Great game,” Elliot shook his hand vigorously. His heart still slammed against his rib cage. The Orc shifted, as if to move on, then stopped.

Fenn grabbed Elliot by the sleeve, “Hey, I wanted to tell you…well, the whole team will tell you—it took mad guts to tell the world about Stevie, and it took even more guts of steel to stand your ground. It means a lot to us that you went to bat for the league like that, put your neck out like that. A lot of people who were scared to say something are speaking up now, and it’s cause of you and that newsie.

So, you know, whatever happens at the press junket, whatever they say, it don’t matter.

Bro, the whole league is behind you. The McMattersons can say what they want and pay their goons to try and sling mud, but those who know—the real ones who know—we won’t forget. And we know whose side we’re on.”

Elliot froze, staring directly at Fenn with wide eyes. “You mean that?”

“With my full chest, bro. We’ve got your back. The league is in your corner. We’re here for you, Bonesaw, you’re not just the Knight’s captain. You’re all our captains!”

Tears welled up in his eyes as Elliot flung his arms around Fenn.

The Orc clamped his massive hands around Elliot and clenched him tight.

There was a moment of pure reverence as everyone watched them embrace as tight as could be.

Elliot’s arms trembled from how hard he hugged Fenn.

Then, with a heavy exhale, he slid back and clapped the captain on his shoulder pads. “That means a lot, Fenn. Thank you.”

Fenn said nothing as he clapped Elliot’s shoulder as well and nodded solemnly.

The line began to move and other players took their turns talking and congratulating the Knights.

Every single one, however, stopped to hug it out with Elliot.

Whispered ‘thank you, bro’ and muffled ‘you’re the GOAT’ filled his chest with light and warmth that he could face a million angry wasps wearing press badges.

Even if the press was out for blood, Elliot could withstand it. Just to hear all of them.