Page 29

CHAPTER

SIXTEEN

ARCHIE

Walker made it through the semifinals, then on to the quarterfinals.

While this isn’t my first playoff season, it feels different because it will be my last. Since we made it to the championship game, I’m still technically enrolled at the university, but I don’t need to attend classes.

None of us do really. The school takes these types of games seriously because they bring in a lot of money.

We arrived in Miami early today. We got settled in at the hotel and watched some film before going to the stadium.

After dropping our gear in the locker room, we move out to the field.

We’ll be running some drills, but we also have to do commercial shots.

Like the ones you see on TV when they talk about the players and the guys are twirling balls around in front of a bunch of strobe lights in a hallway.

Or at least that’s what I think it looks like, and it kind of does in real life too.

Then our media coordinator told me one of the reporters from ESPN wants to interview me.

It’s not uncommon for us to be interviewed before big games like this, and this season, I’ve had to do more .

There’s a lot riding on this game for me in terms of what NFL teams will be watching me.

But I’m trying to soak it all in and have a good time too.

This is my last collegiate game. My parents and brothers are here for the game, but I probably won’t see them until after the game tomorrow since they’re staying at a different hotel.

Having them here for this means everything.

I wish Emma could be here, too, but I know it’s hard for her to travel with her school schedule, and training has started for golf as well.

I see Beck and Casey in front of me. I walk to them and put them both in a headlock. “Hey, dickheads. Can you believe this? This is the tits. We’re gonna blow those Southeast fuckers away—ya feel me? Oh shit, hold up. Where’s Pitz?”

I look around and spot him on the other side of the field with Callaway and the QB coach. I put two fingers in my mouth and whistle, causing half of the team to look my way. “Pitz, get your ass over here for a minute.”

Liam runs over and behind me, jumping on my back. “You dick. I was going over a few new plays with the coach.”

I take hold of his shoulders and easily flip him off my back. I don’t let him hit the ground though. “Can’t have you getting injured before your last game as a Stallion.”

“Ow, asshole. That hurt. I don’t have pads on yet, you dick,” he says, shoving me.

I laugh at his effort to move me. “Okay, fellas. Let’s be real for a few minutes.

This is my last college game. Linson, I didn’t know when I met you—what, two years ago now?

—that you would become one of my best friends.

You’re a hell of a player, but an even better friend.

And, King, you level out Linson’s moodiness, which is why we’ve kept you around. ”

They laugh.

“I’m just playin’. You would do anything for any of us, and that’s appreciated more than you know, King. We know you have our backs, no matter what, on and off the field.

“Now, Pitzy, we’ve been playing together for three seasons. You’ve been my QB, my wingman, and one of my best friends. I’m really going to miss seeing your ugly mug every day.

“Okay, enough sappy shit. Let’s bring it in.” I hold out my arms and wave them into a circle. “Come on, fuckers. Let’s do this.”

We stand together, shoulder to shoulder, arms around each other.

“Here’s to the games we’ve won together and the one we’re about to win. And here’s to our brotherhood. We might not be related by blood, but I wouldn’t want to do this without you guys. Now let’s go get that fucking trophy!”

They yell, “Hell yeah!”

“Hold up. Let me get a pic of the four of us on the field.” Beck pulls out his phone, then hands it to Pitz.

We all scrunch together to fit in the frame.

After a few snaps, I squeeze Pitz’s shoulder and start to walk back toward the tunnel leading to the press area. “I’ll see you all later.” I lift my arm and wave to them.

Before I walk into the room though, I take out my phone from my back pocket and text Emma.

Archie: You should see this. It’s the big show, darlin’.

Emma: I wish I could see it! I’m so excited for you. What are you doing now?

Archie: I’m about to go into an interview, but I just wanted to text you first.

Emma: Well, that was sweet. Go do your interview and then call me when you’re back at the hotel later.

Archie: Okay, will do. You feeling good?

Emma: Yep, the baby has been kicking a lot today .

The baby has been more active lately, and we’ve been feeling him or her move and kick. It seems to be reactive to our voices, but also after Emma eats. It’s the coolest thing ever.

Archie: Give your belly a rub for me. I miss you.

Emma: Okay, Daddy. I will rub my belly for you. And I miss you too.

Archie: You called me Daddy.

Emma: Go to your interview, Arch.

Archie: But now I’m getting a boner because you called me Daddy.

Emma: Not in the way you’re taking it! LOL. Bye, Archie.

I pocket my phone and smile. I’m not really getting a boner. Sometimes, I just like to mess with her to see what she says. Luckily for me, we both have a pretty dirty sense of humor, so she’s never really shocked by the things I say.

Twenty minutes later, I stand and thank the reporter, then head out to find out where I’m supposed to be next. I’m starting to get pumped about this game, and I just want today to end so we can win tomorrow.

The adrenaline pumping through me right now is electric. I’m ready to get out on the field and kick some ass. This is our time. This is my last college game, and I want a win.

The music from the band is loud, the fans are cheering, and we’re ready to play. From where we’re standing at the entry of the tunnel, we can only see the pyrotechnics, our cheerleaders, and the mascots. Not being able to see much builds the anticipation.

Bo, Liam, and Coach are standing just in front of me, ready to lead the way out on the field. I’m standing next to Beckham, Casey on his other side. The buzz in my veins is getting stronger, and I can’t stand still. I want to get my team as pumped up as I am.

I turn in a circle and yell, “Let’s fucking go! Who are we?”

“STALLIONS!” the team yells.

“What are we gonna do today?”

“WIN!”

That’s better. I want to feel the energy of the team. I want them to be hungry for this win like I am.

“Let’s go, baby! Linson, I got you, man. I won’t let anyone get by me today.” I smack Beck’s helmet, then look at Casey. “King, you get the ball, and you run like your life depends on it!”

“You know it, baby. Let’s GO!”

Casey and I clasp hands, and I pull him in for a chest bump.

Our fight song starts playing, which signals that it’s about time to charge the field.

“Please welcome the Walker University Stallions!”

As I run out, I look around at the fans and can’t help but bounce my way to the bench, raising my arms up and down, trying to get the fans to cheer louder.

Once I reach the bench, I lift my helmet up enough to get a better look around the stadium.

These are moments you never forget. Playing football at this level is a privilege, and there isn’t a day that goes by that I’m not grateful that I get to play and that I’ve stayed healthy in the three years I’ve played at Walker .

After the national anthem and the rest of the ceremonies, it’s showtime. I go out to center field with Liam for the coin toss. We call heads and select to defer, which means we’ll get first pick in the second half.

We jog back over to the sideline together and watch as the defense takes the field. After the first snap of the ball, we can tell this game is going to be a battle. They’re good, but we’re better. Now it’s time to prove it.

After a fourth down by Southeast, it’s time for me and my squad to get on the field.

We are one of the best, if not the best, offense in college football.

We utilize a spread offense, which relies on a tight end, three receivers, and a running back.

This type of offense helps to give us the ability to make variations and a quick strike approach.

In the huddle, Bo calls an inside zone play. Which means he’ll pass it to Beck, and then he’ll run it around the right side of the line and try to get the first down. I need to make sure he gets through the hole and down the field.

Once we’re on the line of scrimmage, I eye up the defensive player across from me.

“Hey, fifty-six! We gonna be here all day, baby. I like this kind of party. You ready for me, baby?”

Taunting the other team is one of my favorite things to do. It gets in their head, and they make mistakes, or it pisses them off, and we can really put on a show.

“Fuck you, Griff. You can’t hurt this! I’m a machine, yo! I’ll put you in the dirt,” he answers.

“Okay, son. Okay. Let me see you try.” I raise both of my hands and wave them toward me.

Bo snaps the ball, and the play is in motion. I leap across the line and grab fifty-six—who I know is David Wilson from watching film and seeing him on TV this season. It doesn’t take much for me to knock the shit out of him and lay him on his ass.

“Welcome home, son!” I jump off him and look back over my shoulder at him as he gets up. I smirk, then blow him a kiss. “ That’s cute, you trying to hit. You hit me here”—I pat my chest—“and I didn’t go nowhere.”

Chris Schuster, one of my linemen, bumps me with his shoulder, and he’s laughing. “You razzing him already, or did he start in first?”

“Who, me?” I point at myself and smile.