Chapter 10 Aldrich #2
The game had been tight for a minute there but we finally settled down midway through the first half.
Ant ran a kickoff back setting us up on our thirty before he got tackled.
Then his brother showed out by catching a fifty-yard bomb from Grant that had us on their side on the field.
Marcel caught it in the slot for a first down.
We were in the red zone and I needed to put in work to get us on the board again.
Defense had done its job holding their offense to only three points and getting offense the ball back.
Jacoby had racked up a sack and Ant had a pass breakup that prevented them from picking up a first down.
Now it was our turn.
“Ten no deuce, sixty-five is the mic!”
Grant called out the play calling my number so the line knew I was getting the ball.
It was going to be a delayed run play so I needed to ensure my ass blocked any defenders that could break through the line.
Sixty-five looked like he was trying to crowd the line and blitz so I kept my eyes on him as I read the defense.
The ball was hiked and I was on the balls of my feet, bouncing with my head on a swivel to ensure no one got through to interrupt the play.
Sixty-five was trying to come through but somehow Runt had moved his defender into Sixty-five and kept him from crossing the line as quickly as he wanted.
The line was holding so Grant dropped back before stepping up and stuffing the ball in my stomach.
Both of my hands wrapped around the ball and I saw the hole start to close up.
I stutter-stepped before I started to pump my legs looking downfield to see that Marcel, Antwan and the rest of the wide receivers were prepared to block since the defensive backfield was moving up to help stop the run play.
They closed around me but like the lazy fucks they were, none of their defenders were wrapping up.
Sixty-five got hands on me but I spun through the block despite the number of bodies, friends and foes, that were crowding around me.
I kept churning my legs because I refused to be stopped until I reached the end zone.
I was bounced around from my teammates trying to block and our opponent trying to stop me with hands brushing my pads and reaching for the ball.
My vision had narrowed to the white line that designated the end zone from the rest of the field.
I only hoped to cross it and get more points on the board.
Someone gripped the back of my helmet tugging at my hair and I ducked my head down, twisting my neck out of their grip but another hand grabbed my shoulder pads.
I felt myself going down even as I kept moving my legs because these bodies were heavy.
A hit from the side, which was an attempt to dislodge the ball from my arm, had me bracing myself on the slick grass of the field.
That shift in my center of gravity gave me the leverage I needed to toss the defender that had my pad in his grip off of me and break free from their grasp.
Feeling the heat of all those bodies released from around me gave me an instant influx of energy and although my legs felt like they were going to fall off I kept running with the ball tucked into my right arm.
It was my strongest arm and the one that I carried Ami with predominantly.
Within seconds I was making my way into the end zone before anyone else could catch up to me and within seconds the offensive line was with me celebrating and Runt lifted me off my feet.
“That’s how the fuck you run, Fast Money!
‘Bout to add your girl to the list of MVP Wives. Just gotta get that ring on your finger and then hers to make it official!” He dapped me and stepped back to let me spike the ball.
I wasn’t about to do a crazy celebration and lose it because it was going in my trophy case as soon as we got this win.
The whistle blew and I clutched the ball in my hand prepared to toss it to the ref to show I wasn’t trying to get a penalty for excessive celebration.
Instead, the ref, who had been in the end zone was attempting to break up a skirmish that was happening closer to our sideline.
When I looked up, I saw that Marcel was locked up with one of their defensive lineman and I immediately started to run over to see what was up.
I was stopped short when Runt’s big ass grabbed the back of my pads and kept me from getting over there.
“Let me go, bruh!”
“That shit already handled and that muthafucka about to get tossed out of the game. You see Stew big ass holding Jacoby back? It had to be serious if Murda was in the mix.”
I looked over to the sideline and sure enough, Stew and our defensive line coach were trying to restrain Murda’s ass.
His tan face was red and he was all but snarling and spitting, trying to break free and get over to the defensive lineman who was now on the ground. Damn Marcel must’ve put him on his ass.
“The fuck is going on?”
Runt and I trotted over to the sideline and I was pissed because the last thing I wanted was for Marcel to get tossed. He’d been in the gym with me and Ant every day working on getting better. Getting ejected would fuck with him and that was the last thing I wanted.
By the time we got back to the sideline, one of the equipment guys had taken my ball and tagged it for me before putting it away. More whistles blowing drew our attention to the refs and then the announcement was made.
“Personal foul, unnecessary roughness on the defense, number 93. Because of the foul, number 93 is ejected from the game.”
The fans of the St. Louis Bisons the team that we were playing started to boo loudly and I swear this was unprecedented.
“The fuck he do to get ejected from the damn game?” I was walking closer to where everything was going on while the player from the Bisons was losing his shit on the field. He looked like he was trying to refuse to leave and now my ass wanted to know what happened even more.
“Muthafucka had the nerve to fucking spit at me by our sideline because he couldn’t handle getting scored on.
Was talking recklessly out his mouth about you and I told his ass to suck it the fuck up.
He kept jaw-jacking and I pointed to the scoreboard and told him all that yappin’ wasn’t putting up points.
He kept saying shit and the ref was right there but he couldn’t handle the fact I ain’t give a fuck so he spit at me.
That shit hit the ref instead and Murda ‘bout tried to take that man’s head off.
” Marcel’s face was frowned up and I could see he was still pissed off about what happened.
He didn’t have his helmet anymore so he kept flexing his hands like he wished he’d been able to swing on the defender.
“Jacoby getting bent out of shape about refs?” Runt was laughing because normally Murda hated refs because they were always trying to call him for penalties he didn’t commit. Would swear he was fucking with the snap count just because he was quick as hell.
“Nah, he did that shit so that I wouldn’t lose it and go after that man. Said that he already did what he needed to do this game and he’d take the ejection for me cause he was about to beat that boy’s ass.”
“Fucking right. My daddy white but I ain’t.
The fuck he think he doing his big white ass spitting at a Black man?
That shit made me snap. I was about to take that muthafucka’s head off.
” Coby walked over because apparently Stew was going to make him sit out this series so he didn’t act up.
He was pacing back and forth next to us but he wasn’t as flushed underneath his tan skin as he had been before.
I knew he’d been adopted by some fucked up white people before he found his birth family so I could understand why a white dude moving like that would’ve pissed him off.
“Nah, that’s understood. I know his teammates gonna beat his ass when they get to the locker room. That was dumb as hell.” Runt’s arms folded as we watched the refs and league officials try to control the Bisons’ sideline.
“It was and they about to pay for it though. Watch Ant run this shit back.” Marcel was grinning at the field.
The ball was kicked off and sure enough Anthony ran that shit straight back like no one else was on the field with him.
It was like that ejection had taken the fight out of them but we weren’t about to ease up on them.
The next time we got the ball back I happily took advantage of the switch-up in the lineup because of the missing lineman.
They could barely handle the offensive line when he was in, but now?
We could run and throw up and down the field after he went out of the game at will.
By the end of the third quarter, I’d racked up over two hundred yards, another two touchdowns and could sit out the rest of the game without feeling bad about it.
I knew that Chris and DJ, the other running back, were going to handle business and keep the pressure on and they did more than that.
By the time the clock ran out in the fourth quarter we had won the game by twenty-three points.
It felt good as fuck to feel the royal blue, white, silver and black confetti come down from the ceiling.
The team was handing out the championship hats as Parker walked around and congratulated everyone he saw.
When he got to Stew, they embraced in a way that only friends could and I knew that he reserved that level of affection for a select few.
His lady was standing behind him with her arm around her cousin Rachelle, Stew’s wife, who had Stew’s youngest son strapped to her chest. Their two oldest were jumping around catching the confetti as it fell before tossing it back in the air.