Knights of Andreas 2.07: Twelve on the Field

[SteVo+ 3,702]

Knights of Andreas

Part II

 

Chapter Nineteen – Twelve on the Field

 

Block left, block right. Block left, pull right. All five offensive linemen rehearse variations of running plays against the practice squad defense as McFadden and Jaxson take turns running through holes.

 

It’s Thursday, which means the game plan is finalized from a tactical standpoint; players just need to practice the plays. Then practice, practice, and practice some more.

 

“Toss plays, gentlemen!” Coach Daniel announces. “Let’s try a few. Jerome, you’re up.”

 

On the left side of the line, Chase Grodd assumes his position between Jared Veldheer and Brian Penner. These toss plays are a focus for him this week; he didn’t run many of them at Iowa and considers himself more of a between-the-hashes lineman.

 

The line sweeps left and blocks the practice squad’s defensive front with ease. Grodd continuously pummels his man to the dirt, and Jaxson bolts through a gaping hole. No one seems to break a sweat, a theme of practice this week. With Sunday’s defeat in Atlanta a distant memory, the Knights feel confident about playing the 1-4 Jaguars. Grodd, however, knows better.

 

They switch it up and run tosses to the right with similar results. Grodd finds his man and plants him to the ground. These types of plays excited Grodd early in the season, but not anymore.

 

“Okay, pass pro now,” Daniel says. “Mav, get over here.”

 

All five line up for pass protection drills. The Jaguars don’t blitz frequently, but as Coach Daniel says, it only takes one successful blitz to kill a drive. Grodd does fine against four-man rushes and picks up blitzes fairly well, but faster rushers occasionally slip by and get their hands on Maverick’s red jersey.

 

The next run-through, Grodd sweeps left to pick up the blitz beautifully, but he gets bull-rushed and planted to the ground.

 

“C’mon, Chase!” Maverick says. “Stick your man.”

 

“Ease up, Chase,” Brian Penner says, helping Grodd to his feet. “When you sweep out like that, it’s easy to get fucked up, so bend your knees. Don’t get stiff.”

 

Grodd nods and gets ready to face another rush, still discouraged. His struggles in pass protection are nothing new, and his dominance in run blocking during practice week has yet to translate to Sundays.

 

 

 

“With the twenty-first pick in the 2012 NFL Draft, the New England Patriots select Chandler Jones, defensive end, Syracuse.”

 

Goodell’s voice reaches the green room, where many prospects wait for their name to be called. Jones is not among them, so the room remains still—for now.

 

At his assigned table, Chase Grodd waits, along with his parents and agent. Everything he has heard indicated he would be picked in the mid-to-late first round, so the moment could come any second now.

 

His cell phone buzzes on the table and everyone freezes. Grodd picks it up and notices an ESPN camera heading straight for him.

 

“Hello?” he says. His mother grabs his arm.

 

“Chase?”

 

“Yes. Who’s this?”

 

“This is Chance Phillips with the Los Angeles Knights.”

 

Grodd smiles, and everyone at the table knows what that means. The rest of the green room takes notice of the commotion.

 

“Congratulations, Chase, we’re about to make you a Knight.”

 

Grodd responds as politely as possible, though the excitement makes it difficult for him to realize what he’s saying. Before long, Goodell speaks at the podium again and calls Grodd’s name.

 

The phone call ends, and Grodd rises from the table. His mother, hysterical, hugs him. Emotional but composed, he tries to soak in the moment as much as possible. He shakes his father’s hand and they embrace. His agent gives him one last “Way to go, Chase,” and he heads for the red curtains. Once there, he receives a black and purple Knights hat, puts it on, and walks onto the stage.

 

 

 

As players leave for the day Friday, the coaching staff meets with management for quick debriefing. Wayne Schneider is supposed to be present, but he’s been on the phone for awhile. Chance Phillips starts anyway, eager to head home.

 

“Alright, coach,” Phillips says, “injury updates?”

 

“Let’s see here,” Daniel says, “Johnson’s ankle has healed up nicely; he’s probable for Sunday. Barnes went down today but he just got his legs twisted up, no big deal. Coach, how about Connor and Ripka?”

 

“Chet says his ankle feels better,” Harden says. Daniel and Phillips look at each other. “He’ll be a go for Sunday, but we might need to limit him a bit. Connor’s gonna be out, so Martin starts inside again.”

 

“Gentlemen!” Schneider says, strolling into the room. “I have incredible news. The league will announce two finalists for Super Bowl 50 this evening: the 49ers’ new stadium in Santa Clara, and none other than Farmers Field!”

 

A modest round of cheers and applause takes over the room for a second.

 

“Imagine this,” Schneider continues, “the National Football League’s fiftieth Super Bowl, the golden Super Bowl, in the Golden State. And the local team could very well be there. We’ll win that bid. I’ll make sure of it.”

 

The very mention of “Super Bowl” launches Phillips into deep thought. Super Bowl 50 is three years away. The Knights absolutely should be contenders by then. Hell, they might be contenders already. A 4-1 start to their third season under Phillips’ management is far above expectations.

 

It still hasn’t sunk in that in just a month, all talk at team headquarters about “rebuilding” has been replaced with Super Bowl hopes.

 

 

 

Knights fans continue cheering with 5:15 left in the second quarter. Many felt nervous in the wake of the blowout loss to Atlanta, and today’s game against the lowly Jaguars was considered an opportunity for the team to get back on track. So far, they have given fans little reason to boo.

 

The Knights lead 17-3 and their offense moves right down the field. To no one’s surprise, Maverick hands off to Jerome Jaxson, who surges through the middle of the field, bounces off multiple tacklers, and dives forward for a first down, now over one hundred rushing yards already.

 

Just outside the red zone, the Knights line up for first and ten. Maverick drops back and fires a perfect pass to Bishop on a seam route. He gets tackled on the four-yard line. The crowd cheers as the Knights swap goal line personnel.

 

Maverick takes the snap and pitches it to Jaxson for a sweep to the left. Jaxson runs horizontally, looking for an opening. A linebacker breaks through, but Jaxson jukes him, surges for the corner, and leaps through the air. He gets back up to see the ref signal touchdown, his second of the day. 24-3, Knights.

 

On the sidelines, Chase Grodd celebrates with his teammates, though everyone else seems to be making it look easy. It certainly hasn’t been that way for him, and Jaxson bailed him out for letting his man get past him on that last play.

 

After a commercial break, the defense goes back to work. Defending an offense led by Blaine Gabbert has been as easy as Harden said it would be—for the most part.

 

From the free safety position, Griswold “Flash” Johnson waits for Gabbert to snap the ball. The Knights have shut Jacksonville down so far, their only three points a direct result of a bullshit pass interference call. Gabbert takes the snap, and Cecil Shorts runs through the middle of the defense. Flash picks him up and sprints downfield with him. The play ends, and the two slow down. Flash jogs back to formation for second down.

 

He has yet to allow a catch today, a slightly misleading stat. Facing a rookie free safety and an injured strong safety, the Jaguars evidently decided to test the Knights secondary with lots of vertical routes, a strategy that plays right into Johnson’s style and ability.

 

Flash plays football knowing no one else is faster than he is, and covering receivers on deep routes proves that. But he’s been running his ass off. Covering shitty receivers like Shorts and Justin Blackmon is easy, but sprinting down the field every other play wears him down.

 

He catches himself looking at the clock, counting the minutes until halftime.

 

 

 

About an hour and a half southwest of Ford Field and an hour south of the Big House, football players at little-known Adrian College gather in a small auditorium where they usually receive a pre-game prep talk from their coach. Today, they enjoy a much more special experience.

 

A Division III school for athletics, Adrian football players never go to the NFL, much less receive consideration. But today, the player they call Flash talks to an NFL team on the phone. His new NFL team.

 

Four years ago, Griswold Johnson joined the Adrian Bulldogs like all his teammates: a local, ambitious football player not talented enough for Division I or II. His raw speed was apparent immediately, and by his sophomore season, he used it to become a shutdown safety. He followed that with a dominant junior year, and then a dominant senior year. All the while, nobody in the national media seemed to notice. The only attention Flash got came in the form of some highlight reels on YouTube, showcasing many of his devastating hits. Now, however, an ESPN camera crew circles the auditorium. A D-III prospect drafted in the second round is apparently a big story.

 

With noise filling the auditorium and his mother in tears beside him, Flash listens closely to the other side of the phone call.

 

“Look, Griswold,” Coach Daniel says, “I’m gonna pass the phone to Merle Harden, our defensive coordinator. He’s really excited to talk to you. Here he is.”

 

Another voice says, “Griswold?”

 

“Hi, coach.”

 

Meanwhile, the television announces Johnson’s pick officially, and ESPN’s draft coverage cuts to the live feed at Adrian. The entire team goes crazy, and Flash can’t hear anything.

 

 

 

Flash watches Ripka jog off the field for third down, a welcome sight. Ripka off the field draws more attention to Flash, allows him the opportunity to step up and be recognized as the team’s premiere safety.

 

Gabbert takes the snap. Flash picks up Justin Blackmon, who cuts left as Gabbert throws. Flash undercuts the route, but Blackmon cuts back downfield. Flash adjusts, lagging behind, and Gabbert lobs a deep pass. Flash catches up, turns to find the ball, and swats it out of midair.

 

“Get that shit out of here!” he says towards Blackmon. “Get that fuckin’ shit out of here! Learn to play receiver, bitch.”

 

Blackmon looks like he wants to respond, but Rose runs in and separates Flash before anything escalates. From the sidelines, Ripka watches in bewilderment.

 

“Now that’s something,” Ripka says.

 

“How’s that?” Harden asks.

 

“You know it’s impressive if Rose is telling you to stop talking shit.”

 

 

 

The Knights hold a 24-3 lead into halftime, during which the coaches make few adjustments. In fact, Daniel contemplates how best to run out the clock, considering that Jaxson has touched the ball eighteen times already.

 

Meanwhile, Harden has no qualms about his defense, though he gets some injury news.

 

“Antonio Garay’s out for the game, coach,” a trainer informs him. “Mild injury. Probably fine for next week, but he’s done for the day.”

 

“So be it,” Harden says. He walks across the locker room to his second string nose tackle, who sits calmly by his locker, eyes closed and headphones in his ear. “Damian.” He says nothing. “Damian!” Startled, he takes the headphones off. “Wake up, kid. Garay’s out for the second half, so you’re up.”

 

 

 

The Jones residence of central California has gone from thrilled to disappointed. Family, friends, and teammates have watched draft coverage the entire day, certain the man of the hour would hear his name called. But with only one pick left in the third round, it looks like they’ll have to wait until tomorrow.

 

The largest man in the room, 325-pound Damian Jones, wants to turn off the TV. He’s already waited much longer than he thought he would; at this point, it almost doesn’t matter when he gets drafted.

 

“Tough luck, Anthrax,” a nearby teammate says. “Better luck tomorrow.”

 

Jones’ phone vibrates.

 

“That’s probably Coach,” he says, “telling me the same thing.” He looks at the number: a 213 area code, which he recognizes. “Wait. Who’s on the clock right now?”

 

“The Knights. L.A.”

 

“Oh, shit…”

 

“Hey, Mr. Jones! Mrs. Jones! Get back in here!”

 

Damian’s parents rejoin the living room to find their son on the phone, and everyone understands what has happened. After hours of waiting, the phone call lasts an eternity. Damian speaks with the head coach, general manager, owner, and then defensive coordinator.

 

“Hello, Damian,” Coach Harden says. “Congratulations.”

 

“Thank you, coach.”

 

“I don’t know how much you follow the Knights, but I run a 3-4 defense.” Jones sits back, surprised and intrigued. “I’ve been looking for a young nose tackle the past few years, and I believe you can fill that role. What do you think?”

 

In the build-up to the draft, the possible transition to a 4-3 defensive tackle was something Jones brushed off in interviews but secretly feared. He loves the idea of staying as a 3-4 nose tackle.

 

“I’m ready to get to work, sir.”

 

 

 

Jones lines up at nose tackle and stares down the center as the Knights defense takes the field to defend their lead. This isn’t his first time seeing the field, but it will be his first chance for extended playing time.

 

Gabbert takes the snap and hands off to Maurice Jones-Drew. Brad Meester blocks Jones and the two hold in place. A few seconds later, the play ends.

 

Second and eight. Gabbert drops back to pass, and Jones rushes up the middle. Meester holds him off with ease while Gabbert throws incomplete.

 

Third and eight. Jones rushes again, but Meester holds him off. Gabbert throws over the middle and finds a receiver for a first down.

 

The Jaguars go back to running the ball, with Jones doing everything he can, proving ineffective. He manages to hold his ground but can’t find a way to beat Meester. His days being a force in the trenches at Cal are long gone; he almost can’t believe how much different the pros are.

 

Jacksonville eventually reaches field goal range, where they rely on Gabbert’s arm to cash in on a touchdown. Three plays later, Josh Scobee kicks a forty-three yard field goal. 24-6, Knights.

 

Jones takes a seat on the bench and promptly receives a healthy dose of Harden’s criticism.

 

“Against this team we shouldn’t give up a single fucking point! Tighten up!”

 

Next to Jones sits Marlon Martin, not as bothered by Harden’s bashing. The Knights defense is playing great, and Martin believes he is part of that. But he took advantage of playing time last year, too, and the team paid him back by signing a new linebacker.

 

 

 

With 6:10 left in the fourth quarter, the game’s result is imminent. The Knights have capped their last three drives with a Logan Bishop 22-yard touchdown reception, Jerome Jaxson 19-yard touchdown run, and Sebastian Janikowski 50-yard field goal. The Knights get the ball after a Jacksonville punt with a 41-6 lead, and Coach Daniel makes a decision.

 

“Mav, Jerome, you guys can sit the rest of this one out. Well done.”

 

Maverick and Jaxson soak in praise from coaches and teammates; they have both been near flawless. Maverick finishes the day with a cool 13.5 yards per attempt, and Jaxson is just short of two hundred all-purpose yards.

 

With the first team offensive line still in, Darren McFadden gets some carries, as does seventh round rookie Marcus Jameson. In the trenches, the Chase Grodd/Brian Penner tandem continues to dominate.

 

Grodd has played better as the game has gone on, now with supreme confidence. It’s a shame there’s only a few minutes left.

 

 

 

The 44-6 score goes final, and the Knights walk into the locker room as the stadium celebrates around them. Jay Cooper showers his 5-1 team with praise.

 

“Way to go, assholes! Way to go!”

 

Once everyone is in the locker room, Coach Daniel gathers a crowd.

 

“Absolutely outstanding job, gentlemen. That’s a great football game. And that’s what we’re capable of every week. Let’s make sure we take that with us to Kansas City. But first…” An assistant hands him a football and he holds it up. “Game ball.” The players cheer in anticipation, though everyone knows who’s getting it. Daniel builds up some suspense anyway. “Jerome Jaxson.”

 

Players cheer louder as Jaxson emerges from the crowd, smiling, and takes the football.

 

“We don’t know who flipped the switch,” Daniel says, “but we’re sure as hell glad it’s on. Amazing performance today, Jerome.” The two shake hands and Jaxson ends up in the center of a chaotic celebration.

 

Later, after the reporters have come and gone, several Knights dress for a planned team dinner. Among them is Jaxson, but he’s too busy texting to get his suit on.

 

“Uh oh!” Wilkes teases. “Jerome texting his new lady friend. He got the mojo back with a little…” Wilkes makes a few sexual gestures. “I guess the best way to get a jump in your legs is to get your balls going first.”

 

“Now, now,” Maverick says sarcastically. “You lay off my running back. If a little poontang is what it takes to get this man going in the backfield, that’s fine with me.”

 

“Poontang?” Penner says. “You guys are fucking pussies. See you at dinner.”

 

“Grumpy old man,” Maverick says. “You go get ‘em, Jerome.” He pats him on the shoulder and walks away.

 

Jaxson goes back to texting, but he drops his phone. It bounces off his shoe and towards Alex Johnson’s locker. Johnson picks it up and views the screen.

 

“Is this the new squeeze?” Johnson asks. “Rachel is a cute name.”

 

“Give me that,” Jaxson says, snatching the phone back. “That’s my fucking phone, man.”

 

“Relax, Jerome, relax.” Jaxson says nothing. “Wait, hold up. That was your girlfriend, right?” Johnson steps closer to Jaxson’s locker so nobody hears the rest of the conversation.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“It said her name was Rachel Daniel. Is she…”

 

“I gotta go.”

 

 

 

In all, twenty-six Knights take up the VIP room at Valencia, one of Los Angeles’ priciest restaurants for the elite. Initial drink orders include five bottles of wine, six beers, and one order of whiskey straight (Brock wastes no time).

 

Table conversation rarely includes football; the Knights played a great game and are celebrating that, not dwelling on it. They can dwell and analyze during practice. Alex Johnson and Jaxson share a few awkward glances, but nothing is said. Once Brock has had enough whiskey, he gloats about his new contract.

 

Appetizers include shrimp cocktail, bruschetta, calamari, and crab cakes. The drinks keep flowing and dinner orders are placed. They include steak, lobster, salmon—a little of everything. As food is being served, someone passes along word that the Packers beat the Texans on Sunday Night Football, meaning Atlanta is the only unbeaten team left in the league. The mention of Atlanta causes a silent start to dinner.

 

Jovial conversation eventually returns, and Maverick selects a champagne to accompany dessert, ordering five bottles so everyone can have some. By the time everyone is eating either chocolate soufflé, key lime pie, or crème brûlée, champagne is poured.

 

“A toast!” Maverick says, raising his glass. “To the best team in the league. Cheers.”

 

Everyone drinks, and all champagne bottles run dry rather quickly. By the time everything is finished, Maverick again takes the lead, grabs his suit, and says, “Farewell, gentlemen. See you all in the film room. And to our illustrious rookie class...” The rookies who had risen from their seats sink back down. “…thank you all for a wonderful meal.”

 

The room clears except for the five rookies in attendance, and a waiter soon brings the bill.

 

“Let’s see the damage,” Chase Grodd says, scanning the long receipt and viewing the final tally (with gratuity automatically included): $5,529.28. “Okay, how are we dividing this up?”

 

Damian Jones: “I got it last time.”

 

Griswold Johnson: “Not me.”

 

Grodd: “Flash, you never pay. What’s up with that?”

 

The argument continues until everyone takes out their credit cards, with Grodd flagging down the waiter with a complicated request.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[Vin+ 3,121]

Just like real life...

 

Nice job.

[Sarge+ 3,436]

STEVEN! This is awesome, man. You had me hanging on every word this time.

 

lol @ Bangy sleeping with Daniel's wife. This should be memorable.

Edited January 2, 2015 by Sarge

[RazorStar 4,025]

Hahaha, Harden makes this such a treat to read. Great chapter once again Steven. I'm dying at the fact that Bangy's character is banging the coaches wife, that's just too good.

 

9/10 perfect chapter would read again.

[Bay 2,003]

 

"Covering shitty receivers like Shorts and Justin Blackmon is easy, but sprinting down the field every other play wears him down."

 

[Bangy 19]

Plot twist bois, now it feels like a story. Love the episode maybe because it's the one that focuses Jaxson a lot but the background of the new rookies gives a good detailed description of them all.

[theMileHighGuy 656]

Way to go, asshole!

[SteVo+ 3,702]

Man, I thought this was one of the worst chapters. Considered cutting it entirely and spreading the rookie intros throughout the rest of Part II. Good thing I didn't, I guess.

[BigBen07 285]

Liking the rookie intros a lot! Also glad to see the team recover nicely after the rough game last week. Another fine chapter Stevo

[Zack_of_Steel+ 3,014]

How old is Daniel? It can't be his daughter? Or some other relative, for that matter?

[SteVo+ 3,702]

How old is Daniel? It can't be his daughter? Or some other relative, for that matter?

 

He was 45 when he signed to be the coach for L.A., so that would make him 47 or 48 currently.

[Zack_of_Steel+ 3,014]

Totally his daughter. everyoneinthisthread pls

[SteVo+ 3,702]

Hump Day bump day.

[Bangy 19]

God damn it I want to have more.

[Favre4Ever+ 4,476]

Now that is what you call drama... Stevo should start up a TGP soap.

[BwareDWare94 723]

Oh my. Drama is about to unfold.

 

Come to dinner with us, Jerome!

 

Sure thing, coach.