Knights of Andreas 2.06: Aerial View

[SteVo+ 3,702]

Knights of Andreas

Part II

 

Chapter Eighteen – Aerial View

 

Already at the quarter mark of the 2012 season, the league standings show a few surprises. At 4-0, the Knights look down on the entire AFC West from a comfortable height. The Chargers are 2-2, the Broncos 1-3, the Chiefs 0-4. Only three other teams in the league remain undefeated after four games: Arizona, Atlanta, and Houston.

 

Sports talk shows find plenty of airtime for the Los Angeles Knights, with most of the praise going to the general manager/head coach team of Chance Phillips and Caden Daniel. Several analysts take the opportunity to declare the Knights favorites to win the AFC West. While not all pundits are willing to go that far, everyone agrees that the annual dormancy of the Oakland Raiders is in the past, and that the Knights are a contending football team.

 

The Knights/Falcons game looms large in two weeks, but the Knights get to enjoy a bye week first. While the coaching staff gets an early start, Coach Daniel gives his players an extra day off. After a 4-0 start, they’ve earned two days off in his mind.

 

Most players simply take the day off, grateful for added rest, though several seize the opportunity for celebration.

 

Jonathan Maverick, in an unprecedented move, invites his receivers and tight ends to the club with him, but Jefferspin-Wilkes is the only one who accepts. Maverick regrets this result, as Wilkes spends most of the night lobbying for more targets.

 

Sean Brock organizes a similar get-together for the defense, with Briggs Randall and Malik Rose joining. Randall, however, spends more time than expected watching film, and bails at the last second. Brock and Rose make light conversation in the VIP lounge of another club, with Brock eventually bringing up Rose’s new contract.

 

“What was it in all?” Brock asks. “Thirty?”

 

“Thirty-two and a half,” Rose says.

 

“Just wait ‘till I get my deal this offseason. Forty, at least.”

 

“Not sure you heard, Brock, but they pay you based on how good you are, not how good you think you are.”

 

“No worries, Malik. Three sacks already. I’ll have twenty before the year is over.”

 

“If you say so.”

 

No longer the partying type, Chet Ripka plans a quiet day at home with the kids. While they’re at school and his wife is working, he sits around the house, nothing much to do. He feels groggy, the physical hangover from Sunday’s game lingering longer than usual. He ends up spending most of the day sleeping on the couch.

 

 

 

Practice on Wednesday is more relaxed than ever. Maverick deliberately throws off-target and chastises his receivers for not making the catch. Amused but searching for a counter, D-Jam chooses his moment.

 

He runs out for a passing play, then sneaks across the line of scrimmage, lines up next to Grantzinger, and assumes the three-point stance. Maverick surveys the field casually.

 

“Green twenty-five,” Maverick calls, “green twenty—what the fuck?” He realizes his receiver has lined up at outside linebacker and falls over in laughter. Wilkes bolts off the line, snatches the ball from Maverick, and sprints down the field.

 

“All the way, bitch!” he yells from the end zone.

 

Most of the players laugh, and Coach Daniel can’t help it either. After a moment, he walks in to get everyone back in formation. Nearby, Coach Harden watches in bewilderment as the entire offense tries to compose themselves.

 

“Queers,” he says, sipping iced coffee.

 

“Excuse me, coach,” Ripka says, walking off the field. “Have to step away.”

 

“Wait, what?” Harden spins around, but Ripka walks toward the locker room, head down. Harden drinks more iced coffee. “The hell is going on around here today?”

 

Once the offense starts taking things seriously, Alex Johnson grabs everyone’s attention. Known as a sharp route-runner devoid of eye-popping athleticism, Johnson lights up the field with acrobatic grabs and diving catches. Taking notice, Daniel lets him try some back-shoulder fades, usually Wilkes’ forte.

 

Maverick and Johnson fail to connect initially, then find some rhythm. Maverick has to adjust his throws, as Johnson doesn’t have the catch radius Wilkes does. When the first team defense has a break, Rose gladly volunteers to join.

 

Unsurprisingly, Johnson finds Rose’s coverage significantly tighter than anyone from the practice squad. After some jostling, Johnson spins for the ball late, jumps, misses, and comes down awkwardly. A familiar pain jolts through his leg.

 

“Not again, not again,” Johnson says to himself, unable to stand.

 

A crowd of players forms, and the trainers aren’t far behind.

 

“Goddamn it, Malik,” Maverick says, running in, “what did you do?”

 

“Man, I didn’t do shit. Fuck you.”

 

As the initial wave of pain subsides, Johnson feels optimistic. It feels like a very mild sprain, though it’s obviously too early to tell. He limps off the field, and the trainers escort him into team headquarters for evaluation. He remembers that the team is on a bye week; he’ll have extra time to recover for the next game, however serious the injury is. Almost to the locker room, he spots Ripka speaking with Chance Phillips. What is he doing talking to the GM? Before he can consider it, he limps into the trainer’s area for a closer look at his ankle.

 

Hours later, after practice has just ended, Ripka waits upstairs outside the general manager’s office. Only rare circumstances lead players to the second floor of team headquarters, and this is no exception.

 

“Chet,” Phillips says, having apparently opened the door, “come on in.”

 

As if being summoned for an appointment, Ripka walks into the office, where he stands with Phillips, Coach Daniel, one of the team’s head doctors (whose name Ripka can’t remember), and Wayne Schneider. The owner being present on a Wednesday is another rare sight this situation has necessitated.

 

“Okay, Chet,” Phillips says. “Based on everything you and Dr. Evans have told us, it’s become evident you have a concussion.”

 

Ripka nods. “I figured.”

 

“Obviously,” Daniel says, “we can deal with the injury moving forward; that’s not a problem. The complication is that you likely suffered this concussion on Sunday. Probably on that play where Rose’s shoulder got you in the head, which means…”

 

“We let you play with a concussion,” Phillips says.

 

“Let’s not mince words here,” Schneider says. “Concussions are a big deal for the league right now. As you all know, they’ve stepped up their focus lately, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they continue to do so this offseason. So we have a decision to make.”

 

“What decision?” Ripka says.

 

“The only people who definitively know you have a concussion are in this room,” Schneider says. “We need to decide whether to keep it that way.”

 

“You’re talking about fudging injury reports, fudging records,” Daniel says.

 

“I’m talking about avoiding trouble. If the league finds out we let someone play with a concussion, there will be consequences no matter how we spin it.”

 

“Hypothetically,” Phillips says, “can we reasonably and confidently keep this under wraps? Other players have realized Chet didn’t practice.”

 

“Before we go there,” Daniel says, “I must say I don’t think the situation is that dire. So we missed an injury. It happens. Admitting it is far better than covering it up and having it come out later.”

 

“In response to both of you,” Schneider says, “we most certainly can keep this under wraps. Attribute it to some minor injury, whatever fits, and we let Chet get better.”

 

Silence takes over the office, an understanding apparently reached.

 

“Chet,” Daniel finally says, “this is your injury we’re talking about. Which side are you on?”

 

“Whichever one is best for the team,” Ripka says.

 

 

 

Another week of NFL action goes in the books, and with Arizona’s loss to St. Louis, only three teams remain unbeaten. Two of them will meet on Sunday in the Georgia Dome, and for the second consecutive game, the Knights prepare for the game of the week on the road.

 

Practice in Los Angeles has changed considerably. With Chet Ripka and Alex Johnson both officially questionable with ankle injuries, the game plan on both sides of the ball shifts.

 

Defensively, Coach Harden prepares for another high-powered offense with an outstanding quarterback. He ultimately decides on the same strategy that kept Peyton Manning in check because it is not dependent on Ripka.

 

Offensively, Coach Daniel assumes Alex Johnson won’t be able to play, which leaves the passing game thin. Running will be more important than ever. Darren McFadden has had a nice season so far, but he’s been running behind a good line. The real game-breaker, the runner on the team capable of turning small holes into huge plays, hasn’t shown up yet.

 

Jerome Jaxson runs through the usual drills and has another ordinary day of practice. He knows he may be in line for an increased workload Sunday, but nothing else has changed.

 

After practice, Jaxson dresses in the locker room; Coach Everett sneaks up behind him.

 

“Jerome, coach wants to see you when you get a minute.”

 

Is he getting cut? No, that’s impossible. Daniel would never cut him midseason. Then what does he want to talk about?

 

Jaxson knocks on the door and sees the man who has coached him for the last five years.

 

“Come in, Jerome. Take a seat.” He does so. Daniel seems calm, so Jaxson relaxes a bit. “Jerome, I’d like for both of us to figure out what’s going on this season.”

 

“With what, coach?”

 

“With you. Every time you’ve touched the football this year, you’ve been a different player. I don’t know who’s taking carries and returning punts, but it definitely is not the Jerome Jaxson I coached at UConn, and it is definitely not the Jerome Jaxson I saw last year.” Daniel does his best to boost Jerome’s confidence, though it doesn’t seem to be working.

 

“You know, coach, I just…when I get the ball, I—I’m not sure where I’m supposed to go.”

 

“No, that’s not true.”

 

“What, coach?”

 

“All good running backs have that instinct. They know when to hit the hole, when to cut back, when to lower their shoulders. You have that instinct. What I’m trying to figure out is why you’re fighting it.”

 

“Why I’m—”

 

“It’s the knee, isn’t it?”

 

Jaxson freezes. He’s been dancing around this thought in his mind, but now it’s apparently time to address it. “I think so.”

 

“Listen, Jerome, it’s completely normal to feel hesitant after a knee injury. In your case, it is especially normal after two knee injuries. But trust me, running scared doesn’t work. I know you don’t want to get hurt again, but you can’t take that mentality onto the field with you. You have to forget your knee. You have to run like you’re totally unafraid to get hurt again. That’s the way football is meant to be played.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Jaxson says, gripping both his knees.

 

“Listen, how about you stop by the house after practice Thursday? The family hasn’t seen you in awhile. Like old times.”

 

“Okay, coach. I’ll be there.”

 

 

 

Falcons fans pack in the Georgia Dome with red, eager for Atlanta’s biggest game of the season. NFL fans of many teams look forward to the game; it’s a little early to confidently label the Knights as legitimate, but if they are, today’s game could be a Super Bowl preview.

 

The Knights get the ball first. Maverick unexcitedly hands off to Darren McFadden, who gets four yards up in the middle. On second down, McFadden takes it again, finds less room this time, and it’s third and four. Maverick fakes a handoff and looks right; D-Jam is covered. He looks left; nothing. Over the middle, Bishop is covered, but Maverick forces it through traffic. Defenders tip it and it hits the ground.

 

“Gotta get more separation than that, guys,” Maverick says on the bench.

 

“They were doubling me, man,” Wilkes says. “Nothing I could do.”

 

Shane Lechler’s punt sails out of bounds and the Falcons set up shop. Matt Ryan surveys the Knights defense and calls his cadence. Briggs Randall stares him down, ready for a simpler game than in Denver, expecting less audibles at the line of scrimmage.

 

Ryan fakes a handoff to Michael Turner and fires to Roddy White on a post route. He catches it and Rose tackles him for a twelve-yard gain.

 

Turner takes a few handoffs before Ryan looks to White again, this time on a deep cross. He lofts one over the middle, just past Griswold Johnson’s outstretched arms, and hits White in stride. Rose runs from behind and tackles him at the nine-yard line.

 

“C’mon, Malik,” Randall calls, “tighten up.”

 

“Shut up, Briggs,” Rose says.

 

Ryan takes the snap and stares down White. Rose runs with him. Ryan throws for the corner of the end zone, both men jump for it, and it lands incomplete. A flag comes flying before Rose can celebrate, and the crowd cheers. Pass interference, ball on the one-yard line.

 

While Rose brushes it off and prepares for another loft to the corner, Turner takes the carry up the middle and finds the end zone with ease. 7-0, Falcons.

 

Harden goes ballistic on the sidelines while Daniel remains calm. “Let’s get it right back, gentlemen.”

 

Jerome Jaxson starts this drive in the backfield, eager to touch the football. He does so on first down, sees a hole, and nets a five-yard gain. Satisfied, he wants another try, but Daniel calls a passing play. Maverick looks to D-Jam, but he’s covered again. John Abraham comes out of nowhere and brings him down.

 

Third and twelve. Maverick reads the defense and senses a blitz. He shouts out protection changes, sees the play clock running low, and hurries the snap. Linebackers come free up the middle. Maverick rolls right desperately. He escapes the rush, sees a covered D-Jam, and heaves it toward the sideline. Wilkes breaks open, but the pass lands out of bounds.

 

Neither Maverick nor Wilkes says anything on the sideline this time, and the Knights defense goes back on the field.

 

After a two-yard run by Turner, Ryan looks downfield on second down. With a clean pocket, he can’t spot anybody open. Sam Luck breaks through up the middle, and Ryan rolls left, where Brock breaks off his blocker. Ryan clutches the ball and Brock sends him down for a twelve-yard loss. On the sidelines, Harden finally relaxes.

 

Third and twenty. The Knights send an outside blitz, and Ryan hands off to Jacquizz Rodgers, who surges up the middle into open field. He jukes one defender, spins away from another, and dives forward for a twenty-one yard gain and the first down. The Georgia Dome rocks as Harden’s blood pressure skyrockets.

 

“Jacquizz Rodgers?! Really? What is the little prick, three-foot-five? C’mon, men!”

 

Within field goal range, Ryan looks deep after play-action. He bombs it into the end zone, where Julio Jones jumps over Richard Marshall’s coverage and hauls in a beautiful catch. He plants two feed down before falling, and the nearest official signals touchdown.

 

From the press box, Chance Phillips looks on in frustration (and envy) at the receiver he was desperate to land in the 2011 draft. The one he took instead is currently out with an injury. 14-0, Falcons.

 

After a commercial break, Maverick waits in the huddle for the play call.

 

“That’s enough bullshit,” he says. “Time to get back in this thing. D-Jam, I don’t care if you’re triple-covered; we’re making big plays.”

 

“Whatever you say, boss.”

 

Maverick hears a play call he likes and hurries a snap. He rolls right and D-Jam breaks open. He fires downfield and Wilkes hauls it in by the sidelines for a big gain.

 

Maverick lines up to pass again, but D-Jam is doubled. He looks left, waits for Bishop to break on a post-corner, steps up—the ball falls out of his hand. Abraham falls on it, recovering his own forced fumble, and Atlanta’s offense takes the field again.

 

Knowing the game’s momentum is already reaching a critical stage, Harden watches Malik Rose closely. He considers him the team’s best player, but if he can’t cover Roddy White, it’s going to be a very long day for his defense.

 

On the next few plays, Rose is all over White, and Ryan doesn’t look that way. He does, however, find Tony Gonzalez over the middle. Three Gonzalez receptions later, the Falcons reach the red zone. Harden’s frustration grows; now that Rose has remembered how to play cornerback, Atlanta is exposing Chet Ripka’s absence.

 

Dan Connor stumbles off the field, favoring his chest. Harden notices and looks to the bench.

 

“Martin! Martin, where the fuck are you?”

 

Backup linebacker Marlon Martin sees the injured Connor and jumps off the bench.

 

“You’re in, Marlon,” Harden says. “Don’t fuck up.”

 

The Knights line up against first and goal from the ten. Martin barely has time to register the play call before Ryan takes the snap and he blitzes. Ryan floats one over the middle to Gonzalez, who is somehow wide open in the end zone. 21-0, Falcons.

 

The extra point ends the first quarter. All energy on the Knights sideline has been drained. The fiery coaches have stopped yelling, apparently out of things to say, and no players scream words of encouragement. Everyone takes in the shock as the Georgia Dome rocks around them.

 

 

 

The locker room is quiet as players try to recover physically and mentally. The halftime score is 28-7, and the coaching staff searches for answers to pull off a comeback.

 

“They’re doubling D-Jam on passing downs,” Everett says to Daniel and the offensive coaches, “taking away all big plays, forcing things over the middle, where our interior linemen are giving up way too much pressure. They’re suffocating us. We either need the run game to get going or reshape the entire offense.”

 

“I don’t see a renovation happening at this stage,” Daniel says. “Let’s slow the game down a bit. If we speed up, go no-huddle, they’ll just do the same thing and shut us down.”

 

Defensively, Harden finds no comfort in the words of his assistants.

 

“We’re using the same game plan as Denver, and they’re shredding it.”

 

“They obviously paid attention to the Denver tape.”

 

“We need to change it up. Big time.”

 

“That’s enough,” Harden says. “The scheme is fine. We just need to execute.”

 

“But, coach—”

 

“Listen to me. Rose can’t cover Roddy White, Brock is getting beaten by Sam fucking Baker, and we can’t tackle that little Jacquizz asshole. They’re not executing. You guys want to help us win? Talk to the training staff; see which one has the most experience in surgically removing heads from asses.”

 

 

 

The Knights defense shows mild improvement in the third quarter. Atlanta makes a point of running the clock, and they convert through the air when they need to. While they move the ball, the Knights take away the deep ball and force field goals.

 

Dan Connor is declared out for the game, so Marlon Martin plays at inside linebacker. How fitting that he gets an opportunity against the team that made him special teams captain, then let him walk. He feels extremely unprepared initially, but by the end of the third quarter he finds a comfort zone. Not sure how much longer he’ll see playing time like this, he tries to make the most of every snap.

 

Meanwhile, the offense becomes a run-first attack, which is surprisingly effective but time consuming. With Atlanta playing conservative defense to prevent big plays, Jerome Jaxson explodes.

 

He’s not sure when it starts or why, but Jaxson has that feeling again. He sees holes, exploits them, makes defenders miss. Maverick also throws to him out of the backfield on several third downs, giving Jaxson over a hundred all-purpose yards in the third quarter alone.

 

As a team, the Knights regain their composure but cannot find intensity. The third quarter ends with the Falcons ahead, 37-17, and the fourth quarter is more of the same. Jerome Jaxson’s first touchdown of the year makes it 37-27 with 5:08 to play, but a failed onside kick and subsequent Matt Bryant field goal seals the game’s fate, and the Falcons win, 40-27.

 

The locker room atmosphere is a repeat of halftime, except the coaches aren’t looking at film, searching for adjustments. Coach Daniel walks around, studying his players’ faces.

 

“There’s no time for regret in football, gentlemen,” he says. “Believe me. You want to feel sorry for yourselves? That’s fine. Want to beat yourself up about this game? It won’t do any good, but sure. Help yourself. Just remember one very important thing: we are a good football team.”

 

A few players turn their gaze from the floor to their head coach.

 

“We played a great football team today and they beat us. We’re still a good team. Do not let today challenge that notion in your mind. Did we play our best today? No. Do we have things to work on this week? Definitely. But does this loss undo everything we’ve accomplished the last six weeks? Everything we’ve worked for the last year? Absolutely not. The rest of the league is not looking forward to playing us right now. Let’s make sure we live up to those expectations.”

 

Daniel studies everyone’s reaction. While nobody smiles or looks satisfied, a few players nod in agreement.

 

“Let’s go home.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[RazorStar 4,025]

Woo appearing in a loss. Good to see that Dan Connor's glass body never changes in any reality. Another strong chapter with some great one-liners.

[Sarge+ 3,436]

We lawst, but another great chapter. I really like how you wrote Harden this time.

[Bangy 19]

Yea good to see Jaxson and his Boi Martin. Another great episode Stevo.

 

Waiting for Harden to get fined.

[theMileHighGuy 656]

Two-way player?! Move over JJ.

 

I like the concussion bit, could be really juicy. Harden has some priceless quotes in this one as usual.

[BigBen07 285]

Another fun read. Next chapter should be interesting. Wonder how this team will recover.

[ATL_Predator+ 1,196]

Brock needs to stay in his lane, I've been reading all of these and this is one of my fav chapters.

 

I like what you're doing with this, Steven.

[Zack_of_Steel+ 3,014]

Indeed, Harden was the highlight for me. You're awesome, Stevo.

[SteVo+ 3,702]

[BwareDWare94 723]

“Listen to me. Rose can’t cover Roddy White, Brock is getting beaten by Sam fucking Baker, and we can’t tackle that little Jacquizz asshole. They’re not executing. You guys want to help us win? Talk to the training staff; see which one has the most experience in surgically removing heads from asses.”

 

 

MOAR HARDEN!