After the Dons' victory over Mater Dei, days rolled by in quick succession. Meg was ecstatic that Ty had proven he belonged in the tournament with the win, though Ty still couldn't think of it as a game worthy of celebration. He couldn't even get a word in with his other family members. He doubted they even knew he was on his way to a State championship.
His duel—and what he saw as a defeat—against Nate Langford was like a stake pinning him in place, keeping his mind captured.
He learned who their next opponent was in the upcoming round of the State tournament—the Folsom Bulldogs—but upon watching film, nobody stood out.
There wasn't Nate's speed, Isiah's length, Marshall's reach, Vance's body control, Denzel's power, Coby's feints, or even Justin's heart. There was nothing.
The Bulldogs were another run-centric team, that's how they'd rolled their region, but they weren't ready for State. They didn't have an imposing line. Their RB—Ty didn't even remember the name of the fraud—couldn't hold a candle to Archie, let alone Denzel.
He was no match for JJ, no challenge for the rest of the Dons. They didn't have a hidden weapon like Coby. There wasn't anyone to contend with Ty in the air. A pick-six on the first drive told the opposition as much and kept them from challenging Ty for the rest of the game.
Still, Ty's fifteenth game as a Don ended in a blow-out. The Dons were unstoppable and cruised to a 30–0 victory. The rest of the Dons' defence forced a couple of more turnovers thanks to some fumbles, and while the offence only scored two touchdowns themselves, they chipped away with field goals and didn't make any costly mistakes. In the end, that was all they had to do and then some.
The Dons made it through to another week, and on to the semifinals. Yet Ty's focus remained on Nate. He needed to vindicate that "loss". So he put his focus on speed. He had to get faster. It was all he worked towards after the game against Mater Dei.
Nate had ONLY got a concussion. Hardly a small injury, but it shouldn't be anything that'd stop him from playing. Not unless he ran away, Ty thought … but he couldn't run away, not while they still had unfinished business.
In some respects, Zayden was more fortunate—nobody ever wanted a concussion, the lasting effects from even one could be dangerous if you were unlucky—in others, he was less so. His wrist was only sprained—lucky it wasn't broken—but that still sidelined him for another game. He'd be back for the championship game if he recovered well.
Days rolled into weeks. The victory against Folsom drew as little fanfare in the Samuels' household as every other high school game had. Meg was there. She was the only one there—the only one listening.
Another week meant another match-up. Another day of film study after practice dragged on, an agonisingly boring experience that told Ty game number sixteen would be as big a disappointment as fifteen was.
The opponent for the semifinals—the Long Beach Poly Jackrabbits—weren't run-heavy at least, but they weren't pass-oriented as well; a balanced attack. They showed little promise. Nothing excited Ty, nothing caught his eye. There wasn't even a glimmer of anything special in all the tape.
Ty's trained whilst keeping his eventual rematch with Nate in mind. No matter how far away in the future it was compared to the match that was guaranteed to be happening that weekend, it was still the more important contest to prepare for.
Ty went into the semifinal game with little to no expectations, and still he was disappointed. The Jackrabbits were the biggest bunch of pussies he'd ever met. He was flattered, but repulsed at the same time:
They didn't throw at him once in the entire game. Ty knew he was covering their strongest Receiver, their number one option, the one who led the team in yards, receptions, and touchdowns throughout the year. Ricky had said as much, and the film had backed it all up.
The QB didn't even look his way once. Not even a glance, no matter how desperate the situation they were in, no matter how big the deficit became.
It was boring. It was un-football. It went against everything the game was supposed to represent … and it was the pinnacle of everything Ty had worked towards. Yet the glory he expected was missing.
It was unfulfilling. The quarterfinals were how it was supposed to go. The Bulldogs had at least tried. They had struggled. And Ty had beaten them. He quelled their resistance and showed them they couldn't overcome him.
The Jackrabbits just rolled over and died as soon as he was on the field. He knew nothing of the Receiver in front of him for all of those sixty minutes. He ran routes, of course, but Ty held every single one in check without breaking a sweat. There was no satisfaction, it was just expected. It felt like he hadn't overcome anything, hadn't proved anything. Marshall pushed him, Coby, and Nate, too. Even Isiah, Vance, and Justin had. He'd beaten—almost—all of them, after bloody, harsh battles. The way it was supposed to be.
The first opening of Samuels Island wasn't anything like he'd imagined it'd be.
Of course, the Jackrabbits had still tried to throw and keep their balanced attack, they just targeted the Receivers Ty WASN'T locking down.
Deshaun was challenged the most, and after sharpening his iron against the likes of Isiah, and most recently, the speed of the Monarchs, he was up for those challenges. It was a battle of number two's in the air, and Deshaun came out on top.
The Dons won, but not nearly as handily as they had beaten their quarterfinal opponents. Without the defence's explosive plays and turnovers, the offence squeaked out 19 points, with most of them coming through field goals, whilst the opposition only managed a sole field goal themselves.
The celebration was large despite the messy victory, perhaps the largest they'd ever had. Even the coaches were getting into it rather than just observing from the sidelines. Except Coach Hoang.
They'd done it. The Dons had made it to the State championship. They were in the finals. One more win and the trophy would be theirs.
But to Ty's eyes, it seemed like everyone was overjoyed that they'd simply made it so far, like they'd already accomplished their goal and were happy to end it there. He wasn't close to a satisfactory end. Not until he'd proved he was the best in the world, and had an even greater trophy in his hands.
Ty didn't know why he tried telling his family about the news. Outside of Meg, no one cared, not even about the State championship. Though maybe his father would. The night of the semifinal victory, Ty found his Father in his seat, a college game holding his attention.
'I made it into the State championship,' Ty said.
Father didn't look up. He just took another sip of his beer.
Ty stood in the doorway. The game was a blowout. USC were getting smacked 35–0. "Even this is more important?"
'Did you hear what I said?' Ty asked, already knowing the answer.
'A bunch of bullshit is what I heard,' Father responded, only deigning a quick glance in Ty's direction before shifting his focus back to the television screen. Even the advertisements were more appealing than looking at his own son. 'What championship you talkin' 'bout, boy?'
'Football. Varsity. Next weekend, everyone'll know I'm on the best high school team in all of Cali.'
'Pfft. Yeah right. Football, huh? You still think you're big shit in that? A li'l pussy like you? I ain't heard nothin' 'bout no championship.'
Ty looked at the footballs on the mantle. They were stacked into a neat pyramid now. All the game balls he'd accumulated. Evidence he'd been the best player on the field more times than not. Evidence others recognised he was the best player—he was always the best.
'I'm telling you about it now,' Ty said.
'State championship.' Father laughed, shaking his head. 'Maybe in your dreams, boy.'
'Come to my game next week and see for yourself.'
'I'm too busy for that shit.'
Ty looked him over, then the TV. Finally, his gaze rested on his father once more.
'You wipe that look off your face, boy, or imma smack it off,' Father said.
Ty didn't even realise he was scowling. He didn't stop, he simply walked away. It was pointless. He could tell them it was storming and even if they heard the thunder, they wouldn't believe him. But he'd bring that trophy home and shove it down his father's throat. Hell, maybe then Father would put the bottle down for a second.
Ty did his best to put thoughts of family behind him, as the championship week began, and another day of practice stood before him.
But Ty couldn't find that spark. Even understanding that it was the championship game, and it was sure to be a challenge—he hoped the biggest they'd faced yet—couldn't light the fire within him.
He showed up to practice on Monday, and Rabbit was already there. JJ too, and all the coaches as well. It was the latest Ty had arrived for a team practice since the beginning of the season.
His face must've been even more sour than usual, because Coach Hoang rolled his way. Ty didn't like the concern and worry he saw in Coach Hoang's expression.
'Did somebody die, Samuels?' Coach Hoang asked.
The genuine toned shocked Ty. It took a moment for the shock to wear off before Ty could shake his head.
'Then snap out of it. Because if you wait for these next opponents to wake you up, you're in for a nasty reality check and we'll all be fucked because of it. Everyone needs to be on their "A" game, you especially.'
Embers glowed in Ty's core. 'Yeah? I fucking hope so. The last couple of games have been trash. I thought you said it'd be hard after Regionals. Everyone else in this state has been a pushover.'
'You need to cut that shit out, too, Samuels. The teams we've faced HAVE been strong. They aren't weak, fortunately we've just been stronger. Why do you think that is? Because we've faced such tough competition so consistently …' Another reason, Coach Hoang believed, was because of Ty personally. He saw Ty as the catalyst for the team's evolution beyond fringe hopes at Regional finals, to serious contenders for the State championship. But he kept those thoughts to himself. Ty's ego was bad enough already. '… but that's still nothing like who we have to look forward to this weekend.'
'This opponent's really strong, then?' The embers were flaring.
'Ricky wanted to see you,' Coach Hoang said, looking towards the bleachers.
Ty looked over, Ricky stood on the lowest row. Ricky was apprehensive. Even he had seen the sullen state Ty was in when he arrived, and he'd wanted nothing of it. Ricky knew as well as anyone how much of a pain Ty was to deal with, even in his good moods—which were rare enough to begin with.
Ty sighed. 'Why do you tolerate that brat?'
Coach Hoang choked back a laugh. Ty shot him a strange look.
'Same reason anyone tolerates you, Samuels. Because you're useful.'
Ty frowned, but even he had to admit Ricky had his uses, as annoying as he was, and if he was asking for him personally, it must've been something important. "It better be important, or I'll snap the brat in two and use him as dumbbells."
Ty made his way towards Ricky. Coach Hoang watched him go. It really was exceptional how much stronger the Dons had got since the season began, since Ty arrived. It was like all the pieces had perfectly aligned and made a chemical reaction that triggered their exponential growth. Coach Hoang wondered how much stronger the team could get. "Strong enough to beat Sierra Canyon? If they can, how much further can they go?" Maybe Ty's insane talk of not losing until the National championship wasn't so insane after all.
Ty stopped in front of Ricky, who had sat back down once he saw Ty approaching. He glared down at the younger boy. 'What do you want, brat? And make it good.'
Ricky huffed. 'Hi. Hello. How are you? Have a good weekend? You know, you're a real piece of work, Ty. I reckon even if you did get onto a good team, you'd get dropped after your first press conference for being too much of an asshole.'
'When I'm on a good team, I'll be able to afford the fines for skipping media appearances. Now get to the fucking point.'
'Alright, alright, geez … I was just sayin'.' Ricky grumbled as he pulled out his phone. 'Sit down, you're gonna wanna watch this. It's good stuff. Sierra Canyon is the real deal. They make every team you've faced before look like dogshit.'
Ty was intrigued. The embers had bloomed into a fire, and the bullet-train-shaped stake holding him back melted away. Ty took a step forward, ready to embrace his next challenge.