Ty's fury cut a swathe through the trailing Dons—and even the Shamrocks were quick to step out of his path—as he stormed towards the sideline. How could they have scored without even giving him a chance to go at Stringbean?
His angry glare pinged around the nearby faces, searching for the source of his rage, the one responsible for the Dons' misery. Coach Hoang, yes, but no, deeper than that, it was Zayden again, both of them—Coach Hoang for giving the order, Zayden for failing to refuse it.
Why were they focusing on him and Stringbean? He didn't need help! He could handle that stupid giant on his own. Others needed the support more than he did, why couldn't they see that? Wasn't that how they'd won every game to this point? As long as every other option could be shutdown by superior numbers, and they could force the ball Ty's way, he—and by proxy the Dons—would eventually prevail.
The Shamrocks' new lead was soon secured with a successful extra point; less than a minute into the second quarter the score read 7–14.
Ty kept his complaints to himself, fury feeding on itself within him. He would unleash it on Stringbean and the Shamrocks, not his teammates and coaches.
The following kickoff was thumped a few yards into the end-zone, though Chris still brought the ball out. Perhaps a mistake, as he only reached the 23-yard line—his worst return of the day.
The Dons' offence emerged. Whilst the crowd was still recovering from their shock, and thus, only a small percentage of them raised rallying cries, the Dons still held a steely confidence as they entered the arena.
They took their positions, staring across at their foes. The break would've rejuvenated the Shamrocks' defence slightly, but the Dons were still willing to press the attack. With their first play, they tried to copy the Shamrocks' success, targeting Stephen on a deep shot, though Braid Bitch swatted it aside.
Coach Norman's eyes darted over to Bella, hoping her theory about the Shamrocks' lack of stamina was correct. However, after the one-play touchdown, he worried the Dons might not be able to hold on and keep the game close enough for such a flaw to impact the outcome.
The Dons reset for second down, Stephen ignoring Braid Bitch's taunting, thankful the next play was a run so he had an excuse to lay hands on the arrogant, racist prick.
As Chris burst up the middle of the field, shifting just out of Jordy's reach, and scurrying ahead for a gain of 5 yards, Stephen pushed Braid Bitch to the ground, riding him down like he was trying to bury him in the dirt.
Officials were quick to move in and pull the two apart, issuing more warnings, voices stern and low. Anger flashed in both Stephen and Braid Bitch's eyes, though the boys walked away without problem.
The Dons found themselves in a tricky spot after that. On third down, they were halfway to the marker, and while Chris's run had earned them those 5 crucial yards, it would be risky to keep the ball on the ground again. So they decided against it.
Even if Stephen was still struggling, the rest of the Receivers had been helpful, and all were key parts of their touchdown drive. So when Jay dropped back, looking to pass, he did so with supreme confidence in both his teammates abilities to get open, and his coaches' judgement.
Stephen cut across the field on a Post, though every Shamrock other than Braid Bitch ignored him; Benny chipped in with a block against the nearest edge-rusher before breaking out over the middle of the field, settling into a short hook Curl; Amon's Vertical plunged deep into the defence beyond Stephen's route, but this time a DB followed him and mirrored each of his steps; Chris was offering another option down in the flat, but the Shamrocks were watching him closely, too; which left Cole's sharply cut In, flashing across the field.
Jay lobbed the ball high over the D-Line, keeping it elevated to stretch over the long reach of the LBs waiting beyond as well. Unfortunately, he'd put too much on the pass, and it proved too high for Cole's reach as well, soaring past him and his defender. Thankfully, it fell just short of a diving Safety, and ended in only an incompletion rather than an interception.
Still, the Dons were forced to fourth down, and forced to rely on the punting unit again. They trudged off the field, eyes turning to their brothers on the defence. Those eyes carried regret and unspoken apologies, practically begging the defence to save their mistake and prevent the Shamrocks from scoring again and widening their lead.
However, even if they managed that, the Dons' offence still had a tall task ahead of them. So far, it was looking like another game were their saving grace might be on the ground with their RB rather than any of their Receivers.
Either that, or have to rely on trickery and deception. Would a Flea Flicker work against such a team? Jet Sweeps? Or would they just need to sow confusion with Play Action, Counters, and Draws?
It was something for Coaches Long and Norman to chew on for a while. They hoped their defence would give them time to think, and not let the game get further away from them whilst doing so. Something Coach Long had total faith in; his boys rarely let him down, (no-one, not even his Dons, were perfect), and if they did, it was never for long.
Coach Hoang felt he was close in regards to shutting the Shamrocks' offence down. At least where Jeremiah Byrd wasn't concerned. They'd have to shift back, pulling more people into zones, even blitzing less, if at all; Donte would only have two other partners attacking on that front. Perhaps Ty would have to be left on his own, as he usually was, if they were going to have any success going forward.
"Come on, Samuels. Show me something."
Keeping the giants grounded, so they couldn't use the extent of their reach was still the main key. Ty kept that in mind as he stalked onto the field after the punt return—totalling 8 yards—put the Shamrocks at their 30-yard line.
Was there a way Ty could pin Stringbean down and use him as a launching pad to reach even higher without getting flagged for holding or DPI? Probably not. He contained a sigh as he took his place before the giant.
The Shamrocks started with a run. Stubbornness? Or did they feel so relaxed that they could throw away a play for only a single yard and not care? Jordy and Shannon still couldn't get the best of the Dons' D-Line, no matter if they tried to run up the middle, or to the outside.
Yet even after the failure, the Shamrocks weren't shaken. They looked as if they'd expected the result, and had moved on immediately. There was utter calm throughout their formation as they returned to the air on second down.
Stringbean wasn't the only target they had. Though it would be a test to see how the Dons' zone defence held up against the other targets in Randy and Braxton.
Whenever one of those Receivers crossed into a defender's zone, that defender had to get a body on them. The theory was when done correctly, a second defender should always be close enough to come in for the assist and prevent the catch. Something the Shamrocks quickly found out, when the next pass to Randy, hoping to build off his prior success, was swatted aside by Sonny.
With that, the Shamrocks were pushed to third down. Ty stalked to his position, watching Trevor the whole way. The ball would come. Stringbean was the Shamrocks' only salvation. Even if the rest of the defence was disadvantaged, Ty trusted Coach Hoang could out-scheme the opposing OC, but someone like Stringbean—someone THAT tall—couldn't be out-schemed. That was fine, Ty could take him down all on his own.
Supernova Samuels, Black Hole, whatever other nicknames they'd given him, he'd have a new one by the end of this game—Giant Slayer.
The ball was snapped, and Stringbean charged ahead as if Ty wasn't even in front of him. Ty backpedalled; just because he was instructed to stick close, didn't mean he should allow himself to be run over.
Stringbean's route verged towards the sideline, running towards it in a diagonal. He glanced back over his shoulder, waving at his QB, calling for the ball, which was promptly lobbed over. The gesture gave Ty plenty of warning, but not much help.
Of course, the ball was thrown high into the air; a moonball. Ty moved closer to Stringbean, both boys, stumbling slightly as their knees knocked together. Neither got a solid launching platform as they jumped, but that still favoured Stringbean, who reached much higher than Ty, snatching the ball from the air.
They stumbled forward as Stringbean reeled the ball in against his chest, and Ty tackled him, bodying him off his line, preventing him from straightening, and pushing him out of bounds. For all the size difference between them, Stringbean could be knocked aside easily when off-balance.
The reception was still good for 13 yards.
'You can't stop me, little bitch,' Jeremiah side, pointing towards the end-zone he seemed destined to reach.
Ty couldn't, not right now, but he had to, there had to be a way. He turned and walked back to the Dons' huddle. Worried faces stared back at him from all sides.
The next play came, and the Shamrocks didn't try the ground again. Perhaps they'd finally abandon the hopeless endeavour.
Trevor dropped back, eyes once again seeking out Jeremiah, who continued his trek up the field, running towards the sideline. Zayden was still lurking, even if he was keeping a closer eye on others like Braxton, who cut in, clearing away from Jeremiah's destination.
The other Dons' presence prevented the Shamrocks from going deeper, keeping the throws to a medium-length, else they'd give the Safeties too much time to break away from other, covered assignments, and focus on Jeremiah; they didn't want to throw another pick, so they took things slow and safe.
Another back-shoulder toss by the sideline, and Jeremiah stretched around, keeping his feet inbounds as he snagged the ball, and fell out, this time for a gain of 14.
Bit by bit they worked downfield, drawing ever closer to the end-zone as Ty was bested time and time again. Repeatedly, he came up much too short, doing little more than flailing at the air. At least he was able to keep the yards after the catch to a minimum, always dragging Stringbean down or pushing him out-of-bounds afterwards, but that silver-lining was so dull it was almost non-existent.
After a few receptions, the Shamrocks were sitting on the edge of the red-zone, once again with the end-zone in their sights. It was time to stretch their legs a little and try another deeper pass; the Dons would get their chance to stop it again.
Jeremiah came to Trevor within their huddle, hands gripping the smaller boys shoulders. 'Look at me, Trev. I trust you, and I know you can do this, because its simple. All you have to do, is throw it beyond those tiny, worthless freaks' reach. Right to the back of the end-zone, you hear me?'
'Yeah, Jeremiah, I hear you. I'll…I'll do my best.'
Jeremiah squeezed, forcing Trevor's eyes to meet his. 'Do. Better.' He let go, slapping his shoulders before walking away.
Trevor shuddered, but steadied himself, marching over to his spot right behind Jordy. He looked out across the field, not towards Jeremiah and Tyrese, instead out to the Safety with vitiligo. He was the danger, the one who'd picked him off before, and was constantly looking for his chance to do so again, even if he had other concerns keeping him occupied.
Zayden prowled at the back of the Dons' formation, restless, and observant. Ty needed his help, but so did the others. That was the problem with playing Safety—what made it so annoying—your whole job was basically plugging holes within the rest of the defence, yet you never knew where and when those holes would break open. You could see the pressure building in one area, know it was near to bursting, but when you decided to focus on it, another pinprick could open up right under your nose, and those were often the most dangerous.
Maybe he was worrying over nothing with that giant. They'd been in shitty situations before, ones that looked unwinnable—even Ty had—yet they always came through in the end, right? Why would this game be any different?
The ball was snapped. Jeremiah surged straight ahead, not veering towards the sideline this time. Elsewhere, Randy made a run down the sideline, sprinting towards one corner of the end-zone, pulling Amon and Sonny with him.
Zayden backpedalled, keeping the whole field in front of him, watching as the giant surged ahead, eyes only on the end-zone. Ty was with him every step of the way, keeping up so easily he could watch the QB instead. Then there was Deshaun and Braxton.
They were neck and neck also. For all the shifting about they'd done in their zone, it still looked an awful lot like man defence to start the play.
Braxton Curled back, and Deshaun continued on for another few paces. Would he always struggle with that play?
Zayden started towards them. One of the pitfalls with playing Safety, was feeling as if you HAD to deal with every minor problem. One of the things that separated the good from the greats in that position, was recognising when there was two problems, and which one actually NEEDED your help.
Zayden knew he'd fucked up as soon as the ball left the QB's hand. It wasn't going to Braxton—Zayden wouldn't have even reached that Curl route anyway, nor should he have been trying to—it was heading right for Jeremiah, of course.
Zayden turned back to give chase, but it was already too late; he wouldn't make it in time.
Ty leapt, reaching not for the ball, but Stringbean's arms as the ball met them at the back of the end-zone. He latched on, wrenching, pulling one of Stringbean's hands away from the ball, but the other was large enough to wrap around it plenty securely. Dragging his feet, Stringbean crashed to the turf with Ty yanking him down. They slid out of the back of the end-zone, tumbling over one another until they rolled to a stop.
Officials converged, signalling the touchdown. A disappointed groan emanated from the crowd, though the pocket of cheers was louder than ever.
Stringbean shoved Ty down as he pushed himself up, launching the ball into the ground. 'That's right! I own this shit!' He whooped and laughed. Football felt a little too easy at times, but he wasn't about to complain.
Ty rolled to his back, sitting up. Zayden jogged up to him, offering a hand. Ty only saw it from the corner of his eye as he stared at Stringbean, watching the giant clown skip and dance back towards his teammates, who swiftly joined his celebrating. Ty didn't slap the hand away, he just sat there for a while longer, as the score ticked over to 7–20.
Eventually, Ty returned to the bench, letting the special teams units onto the field for the extra point, which was successful.
As the score changed to 7–21, Ty was still stumped on the giant problem before him. How was he to slay the giant when he couldn't even climb to the top of the beanstalk?