SteVo+ 3,702 Posted February 20, 2015 Knights of Andreas Part II Chapter Twenty-Six – At Knight’s End Chance Phillips drives through Monday morning traffic on his way to begin what will be a very disappointing week. The sting of yesterday’s loss, and the Knights’ elimination from playoff contention, hasn’t gone away, and it probably won’t anytime soon. 8-7 is a good record, Phillips believes, but the Knights were once 7-2. From 7-2 to 8-7—he can’t get that figure out of his head. Even worse, the team’s flip-flop complicates the evaluation process immensely; which version of the team is a mirage? After a rollercoaster season, the Knights still haven't answered the question: are they a good football team? Are they contenders? Phillips parks in his spot as Coach Harden walks past his car toward the front door. “Morning, Mr. Phillips,” Harden says. “Good morning, coach.” Phillips wonders about Harden too. His contract will be up soon, and his refusal to talk about an extension always struck Phillips as odd. Does Harden not want to be back? That could sync with Schneider’s idea of a fall guy, but Phillips still doesn’t see a valid reason to adopt a new defensive philosophy. Full of thoughts, Phillips enters the building and spots Harden and Daniel talking. Harden looks concerned. “What’s going on?” Phillips says. “My apologies, Merle,” Daniel says, lifting a poster off the wall and placing it on his desk. “I can’t help because I’m not the coach anymore.” “What?” Phillips almost drops his coffee. “Caden, what the hell are you talking about?” “C’mon, Chance. There’s no need for us to be anything but straightforward now. I just got out of Wayne’s office, and he informed me of your decision.” Phillips understands what has happened and feels a flare of anger heating his face. “Excuse me, Caden. Merle.” Phillips throws out his coffee, passes the elevator, and runs upstairs. A crack of light shines between Schneider’s door and its frame. Phillips shoves it open, swinging it around and slamming against the wall. Schneider looks up, on the phone. “You spineless piece of shit,” Phillips says, his teeth grinding. “I’m gonna have to call you back,” Schneider says, hanging up. “Sit down, Chance.” “I don’t fucking believe you.” “Chance, that’s—” “We talked about this, goddamn it! We had an agreement!” “Circumstances have changed. And while I respect your opinion, something had to be done. And the sooner, the better.” “You son of a—” “I understand your anger, Chance. I went over your head, something I had hoped never to do, and for that I apologize. I should remind you, though, that I own this football team and can do with it what I please. That being said, calm down, hear me out, and I will convince you this is the right decision.” Phillips considers several options, including punching Schneider in the face, but he sits down, his hands pressed firmly against the armchair. “I’m listening.” “What I saw in Carolina yesterday was inexcusable and indefensible. It was the culmination of something that’s been building, unfortunately, for some time now. Daniel lost the locker room. At the very least, the entire team lost its focus after a hot start and that falls directly on his shoulders. They felt the need to call a players-only meeting and it didn’t accomplish a damn thing.” Schneider pauses, and Phillips isn’t sure he’s supposed to speak. His mind bounces all of this around in his head too quickly to organize words. “A week ago, you said that if Daniel wasn’t the guy to take us all the way, we would find out next season. And I agreed. But based on yesterday—based on this season as a whole—I’m convinced keeping him around would do more harm than good. We need new leadership as soon as possible.” “You just fired a coach who’s 8-7. After we had six wins last year. We could finish 9-7 and you just fired our fucking head coach.” “Our 8-7 record is highly misleading.” “You scouted him. You interviewed him with me. You and I agreed he was the coach to lead our franchise. We’ve gotten progressively better every season, and you fire him because of a losing streak.” “We have not gotten progressively better. As I said, our—” “Jesus Christ, Wayne. How many times have we talked about communication? About togetherness? You saw what happened with Al Davis in Oakland and now, here you are, fucking everything up in the same way.” “That’s enough.” “No, it’s not enough. I can’t believe—” “Take caution before you go any further, Chance. Daniel is gone, and you can join him if you like.” “I’m not sure that would be such a bad idea.” The words slip out of Phillips’ mouth before he can stop them, but he doesn’t care. “I’m not sure I can work under you after this…this…atrocity.” “If that’s your decision, I respect it. But I want you to know I still consider you the best general manager in the NFL.” “Oh, give me a fucking break.” “And I say that because you can make the tough decisions. That’s what this is all about.” “What do you mean?” “I’ve been talking around with other owners. Nothing official, nothing on the record, of course. Black Monday this year is going to be big. A lot of big names available.” “I don’t believe this.” “Again, none of this is certain, but you’ve got guys like Andy Reid who will be available. You can make a pitch to Sean Payton if he doesn’t want to go back to New Orleans after Bountygate. It’s a rich college market. We have a huge opportunity, Chance, to take this football team to the next level.” “We had our guy picked. And you fired him.” “So be it.” “How do I know you don’t have his replacement already picked?” “Because I’m not choosing our next head coach. You are.” Slightly calmer now, Phillips considers the daunting task of hiring a head coach. He has no intention of going through that again, though quitting may be his only way out of it. “I’m not putting my name behind this decision,” Phillips says. He gets up and walks towards the doorway. “You have to, Chance. As of now, all anybody knows is that the Knights fired Daniel, assuming it was a mutual decision between the two of us.” Phillips stops in the doorway. “Do you really want to be known as the GM who lets his owner make all the big decisions?” “Isn’t that what I am now?” “You are exactly what the press thinks you are.” Daniel packs up more belongings from his office while Harden finishes his iced coffee. The two haven’t exchanged a word since Phillips left, though assistant coaches arriving have offered encouragement—after expressing their shock. Phillips joins the crowd as Daniel leaves with a full box. “Caden, listen, I—” “Don’t. You made the decision you felt was right for the team.” “I…I’m sorry it ended this way.” “Me too. I’ll be back later this week for the rest of my things, and to say goodbye to the players and coaches. I don’t want to disrupt things; please let me know what time would be best.” Phillips wants to shake his hand, but Daniel’s arms are tied up with the box. He walks away awkwardly, leaving the Knights behind. Phillips notices several assistant coaches staring at him in what he believes to be anger. Assistant GM Paul DeMartine walks in, apparently surprised to see Daniel leaving, and notices the congregation. “Paul,” Phillips says. “My office. Now.” Among the crowd, Harden still can’t find words for anything. Unsure what to say or do, he remembers the team has a game to play this Sunday, which seems an enormous undertaking right now. In downtown Los Angeles, about a twenty-minute walk from Farmers Field, a sports bar opens for another day of business. Eight years old, the bar was founded as “Harry’s,” an unoriginal name given by its principal investor. Soon after Los Angeles heard details about its new NFL team, it was renamed “Knight’s End” and has since become a popular get-together location for Knights fans. Jay Cooper strolls in just after noon to eat lunch and scout the place. He’s been here a few times, and it seems as good a spot as any to watch Knights games in the wake of his lifetime ban from Farmers Field. He orders a club sandwich and beer from a seat at the empty bar. After light conversation with the bartender and a few sips of beer, some noise on one of the televisions gets his attention; it’s NFL Network. “We’re a week from Black Monday,” the in-studio anchor says, “but we’ve already got a stunner. According to sources, the Los Angeles Knights have fired head coach Caden Daniel.” “What the fuck?” Cooper says, almost spitting up some beer. His eyes fixate on the coverage for the next few hours, many beers in between. He synchronizes his bathroom trips with commercial breaks. The Knights announce a formal press conference later that afternoon, giving the media plenty of time to digest the firing. “…undoubtedly a surprise. You’re talking about an organization with a new, young owner, a relatively new general manager. They were just starting to get this thing turned around…” “…I understand that the team went from 7-2 to out of the playoffs. But you have to stay committed to the long-term plan. I know a lot of fans are angry, and understandably so, but you don’t have a reaction like this …” “…Daniel leaves Los Angeles with an 18-29 record…” “…what they’ve done is put themselves in a really tough position. If the Knights’ new head coach for next year, whoever it is, doesn’t produce results, Knights fans are going to wonder, ‘Why didn’t we just stick it out with Daniel? Why didn’t we stay the course?’…” “…at 8-7, this season is already the Knights first to reach .500. In Oakland, the Raiders last had a winning season in 2002…” “…seems so out of character for a franchise that has shown patience over the last few years. And that patience has paid off. I think they may have panicked here…” Doors open for the press conference, and seats quickly fill with journalists, ready to ask tough questions and tweet the answers. Adam Javad, whose reputation has taken a hit, takes a seat near the back. Among all Knights beat writers, he was perhaps the most adamant that Coach Daniel would not be fired, while most refrained from committing either way. Javad knows he interpreted Phillips’ message correctly, unless it was deliberate misdirection. But what does Phillips gain from screwing Javad like this? The conference soon begins with Wayne Schneider and Chance Phillips at the podium facing a capacity crowd. “First off,” Phillips says, “I want to thank Caden Daniel for his dedication and his service to this organization. Three years ago, we faced a great challenge in turning this franchise around, and Coach Daniel played a tremendous role in bringing us to this point. For that we will always be grateful.” Phillips stops and glances down at two sheets of paper. Unknown to Schneider, he has two speeches in front of him: one detailing the reasons for firing Daniel and explaining why it will help the team long-term, the other describing the true timeline of events and Phillip’s resignation as general manager. “However,” he says after a deep breath, “we feel that this is the right decision for this team moving forward, though we admit it is a difficult one. Ultimately, our decision centered on team’s 7-2 start to the season. We firmly believe that record—and the team’s overall performance—to be a reflection of this team’s talent and ability. And considering that, the recent stretch that saw us eliminated from the playoffs was unacceptable, and could not go without consequence.” Phillips goes on, essentially branching out the same thesis with empty words, he feels. He concludes with, “Merle Harden is the team’s interim head coach for Sunday’s game against the Chargers. Our coach beyond that will be based on a thorough, comprehensive search, as I indicated.” Phillips zones out as Schneider faces some questions; the tough inquiries come immediately. “Mr. Schneider, when you bought the Oakland Raiders, you promised fans patience, and you promised continuity, specifically mentioning the numerous head coaches during the Raiders’ era of dysfunction. What do you say to fans now to justify this decision?” Phillips eyes Schneider intensely. Yes, Wayne, how do you justify this? “You’re right, I did promise continuity. But I also promised a commitment to success. And I promised a Super Bowl. I completely agree with Chance in that this is a necessary step to take us to that level.” The reporters keep firing, with Phillips on the receiving end of more than his share. A calmer question eventually comes about assistant coaches, and Schneider takes the initiative. “One thing I want to point out about this decision is it was more about leadership than anything else. This is not an indictment of the team from a scheme standpoint. So we have no current plans to fire assistant coaches; those decisions will be made by Chance and our next coach.” Tuesday morning, Knights players assemble in the locker room for an address from the general manager. Everyone has had twenty-four hours to digest the departure of their head coach, though no one feels much better or worse than they did after hearing it the first time. Maverick stands with his receivers and contemplates the future. Daniel worked with Maverick a lot in developing him, but he’s learned as much as he can, he believes. Then again, what if they bring in some new offensive guy who wants to change everything? That’s not gonna fly. One of his receivers, Bishop, enjoyed playing for Daniel more than any coach he has had at any level. A reunion is still possible (assuming Daniel stays in the NFL), but he’s now torn between the Knights’ five-year offer and free agency. Most players on defense have mild feelings about Daniel, who rarely meddled on their side of the ball. But what if the new coach does? Ripka isn’t sure getting rid of Daniel was best for the team with so many young guys still developing, but he knows business, and what’s done is done. Chance Phillips arrives briefly to deliver some useless GM nonsense and to announce that Coach Harden is the head coach for Sunday. A few players already knew this from his press conference. Harden jumps in and clarifies: “I run the defense, business as usual. Coach Everett runs the offense.” As the team runs through an odd week of preparation for the Chargers, the front office begins a laborious search for a new head coach. Phillips believes this is the biggest challenge an NFL general manager can face: how do you evaluate coaches? Evaluating players is difficult, of course, but you have lots of game tape to watch. For coaches, there are only so many factors you can measure objectively. How do they manage their timeouts? What is their success rate for challenges? They have a win-loss record, of course, but how much of that can be credited to them versus the players they have? The biggest attribute a head coach can have, leadership, is near impossible to measure. Then, after you’ve somehow identified viable candidates, the interview becomes critical. The candidate must give the right answers, and the interviewing team must ask the right questions. For Phillips, identifying candidates is complicated by the Knights’ situation with their coordinators. Tom Everett is under contract, but he was Daniel’s handpicked guy. An offense-minded head coach could easily want a new offensive coordinator. That wouldn’t sit well for Phillips, who wants the offense to remain mostly the same. Maverick is still a young quarterback and he doesn’t want to hinder his growth. Merle Harden presents similar problems. If he wants to re-sign with Los Angeles, Phillips wants to bring him back as defensive coordinator, no questions asked. But how many head coaches would go along with that? Phillips recalls how he and Daniel hired Harden reluctantly; another coach may feel similarly. But regardless of what happens with Harden, Phillips insists the defensive scheme remain intact. So, the top priority in the head-coaching search is schematic continuity on both sides of the ball. This leads to a very wide list of candidates, which shouldn’t be a problem. The Knights have a roster capable of winning, which—in theory—makes them an attractive job opening. As the Knights put one last week of practice in the books, Coach Harden amends his routine only slightly, considering himself interim head coach in name only. Still, he enjoys some new freedoms assigned to him. While the team stretches as part of warm-ups, he wanders toward some offensive players for some friendly insults. Not surprisingly, Maverick is the first to fire back. “Why don’t you stick to defense, coach?” “As many picks as you’ve thrown this year, you’ve probably made enough tackles to qualify.” “Ouch. Thanks for the encouragement.” “I inspire confidence wherever I can, Mav.” Harden puts on a happy face for his players, but he can’t erase retirement from his mind. He still hasn’t told management that this will be his last game, and at this point, it’s probably best to wait until next week. After Friday’s practice finishes, Harden makes his way out of team headquarters, hoping to catch a drink before heading home. Traffic is hell right now anyway. “Coach! Hold up!” Harden spins around in the parking lot and sees Chance Phillips. “Afternoon, Mr. Phillips.” “I know you’re on your way out, but do you mind if I talk to you for a second?” “Sure. What’s on your mind?” “You, as a matter of fact.” Harden sighs. So much for waiting until after the game to break the news. “I know, Chance. My contract.” “Not exactly.” “How do you mean?” “Your contract as defensive coordinator expires, we all know that. I want to give you a head coaching contract.” “Wh—what? You want me to take over for Daniel?” “Yes.” “Chance, I’ve never been a head coach at this level.” “I’m well aware of that.” “So why me?” Phillips hesitates. “You want me to be honest?” Harden nods. “I don’t have any other options. I believe in this roster, and I believe in continuity. I believe the best thing for the players right now is to give them a familiar face, not bring in someone who will shake things up and change routines.” “Then why fire Daniel?” “It had to be done, and that’s all there is.” “I see.” “I know I’m a management guy, Merle. I’ve never been a coach. But I see the players; they respond to you. This defense fucking loves playing for you. I look at you and I see a head coach we can win Super Bowls with. I mean that. So despite your lack of reliability, your lack of commitment in the offseason, and your alcohol trouble—let’s not pretend I don’t know—I don’t have any other choice but to offer you the job. And I really hope you take it.” “Chance, I…” “Just think about it. Alright? We’ll interview plenty of candidates regardless, but between you and me, the job is yours if you want it.” The Knights and Chargers kick off each team’s final game of the season. The Chargers are 5-10, a dreadful record that prompts plenty of home fans to bring signs calling for Norv Turner’s firing. To the rest of the league, this game is meaningless. Knights players know this, though most of the young players value the experience anyway. As Coach Everett and Coach Harden have been preaching all week, you get better by playing, so every game counts. The Knights start sluggishly and the Chargers jump out to a 10-0 lead by the end of the first quarter. Harden sees much of the same from the players: lack of energy, failure to execute. Then again, he can’t blame them; they know it’s over. He coordinates the defense like normal and prowls the sidelines with greater range. He especially enjoys chewing out the refs, probably his favorite perk of being head coach for a day. Maverick does his best to move the offense with Everett calling the plays. Nothing seems drastically different about his play-calling style compared to Daniel. Jaxson gets his usual share of carries, thankful his playing time is not dependent on Daniel’s presence. Bishop plays the game apprehensively, wondering if this is his last as a Knight. He’s smart enough to realize he has enough tape to showcase his abilities; he doesn’t need to light it up today to prove himself. On the other side of the ball, Martin feels differently. He almost certainly needs to prove himself capable of playing inside linebacker to the rest of a league that has only seen him as a special teams player. Both teams add a field goal in the second quarter and the Chargers lead at halftime, 13-3. Harden doesn’t give any kind of speech (nor did he before the game), and the second half starts the same way, with the Chargers extending their lead to 20-3. Maverick and the offense respond, finally connecting on a deep pass to Jefferspin-Wilkes. 20-10, Chargers. Harden’s defensive adjustments finally hit a sweet spot, suffocating the Chargers offense and flustering Phillip Rivers, who throws an interception to Griswold Johnson. The Knights capitalize on a drive that takes the game into the fourth quarter and reaches the end zone. 20-17, Chargers. The next Knights possession stalls at midfield, the offense facing fourth and one. “Go for it, coach?” Everett asks Harden, surprising him. “I’ve got a play if you say yes.” Harden sizes up the situation: down three points, ball at the fifty, 6:45 to go. “Let’s roll,” Harden says. Everett radios the call to Maverick, who lines everybody up quickly. Qualcomm Stadium gets loud. Maverick sneaks it up the middle and gets the first down behind Penner. Harden congratulates Everett on the call, feeling a surge of energy propel the team into Chargers territory. Knight’s End celebrates a go-ahead touchdown and the Knights take the lead, 24-20. The usual game day crowd has assembled, Jay Cooper now among them. He sits at the same seat at the bar, trying to flag down the bartender for a refill. By the time he gets one, he immerses himself in the glass, making up for lost time. The whole bar screams in horror and Cooper looks up: the Chargers run the kickoff all the way back to retake the lead. Fucking special teams. Cooper downs his drinks faster as the Knights mount a potential game-winning drive, but it falls short. The Chargers win, 27-24, and the Knights officially finish the 2012 season with an 8-8 record. Conversations start up all over the bar. “Man, if you’d have told me we’d be 8-8, I would have taken it. But…” “I know. What a fucked up year.” “So who’s the new coach, guys?” “Andy Reid!” “Seriously? They just fired Daniel because he ‘couldn’t take them to the next level,’ and you want to hire a coach who’s lost ten NFC Championship Games?” “Schneider’s got plenty of money. Tell him to reach deep and throw it all at Sean Payton!” “Nick Saban, baby!” As the verbal coaching carousel rages on, Cooper talks to another fan, much younger than him, at the bar. He never gets his name, though he says he’s from Florida and sports a beard that belongs in medieval times. “We should still be good next year,” he says. “8-8 may suck, but we’re two games better than last season, still got a young team. Lots of talent.” “Won’t make a difference if the next coach sucks,” Cooper says. “Whoever it is, hopefully he has some balls.” “Agreed.” “Well, we got eight months to think about it, I guess. Fucking football.” “Still plenty of beer in the world.” “Cheers, brother.” Hours later, Cooper manages to pay his tab, leaves the bar wasted, and stumbles home. Merle finishes his coffee and heads for his car. Today is Black Monday, and he can only guess how many head coaches are getting bad news, trying to decide how to explain it to their families while their players clean out their lockers for the offseason. “Merle, wait,” Melinda says, joining him at the door. “Are we going to talk about this first?” “We already did,” Merle says. Melinda reacted poorly when he told her about the head-coaching job on the table, but it was miles worse when he admitted he was considering it. “Merle, you have enjoyed a great career, and I’m proud of you…” Merle thinks about that “great career.” He recalls his two state championship losses at the high school level, his time in the college ranks, his work in Charlotte and Los Angeles. “…Could you stick it out for a few more years? Maybe, maybe not. But either way, you have bigger priorities right now. You have to take care of your family.” He looks around at his house, at his wife, at his daughter’s car in the driveway. “This isn’t my only family.” Players clean out their lockers slowly, savoring every moment before the media surrounds them for the last time. Most players know they’ll be back in a few months, while a few are unofficially free agents. By the time Harden arrives, the entire coaching staff and management team stands with him in the locker room. Chance Phillips stays quiet and maintains his distance from Schneider, not sure exactly how the two will work together from here. He wonders if he should have resigned when he had the chance. “Well,” Harden says once things go quiet, “if anyone has anything they’d like to say before we all head off, now’s the time.” “I do.” The crowd makes a path so everyone can see Chet Ripka. “I wasn’t sure how to say this, so I’ll get straight to it: I’ve decided to retire. Yesterday was my last NFL game.” The air is sucked out from the locker room. No one lets out a gasp or covers their mouth with their hands, but everyone is stunned. “When you get old, you can feel it every day, every game, every play,” Ripka says. “I could probably give it one more year, but…the concussion.” He pauses to compose himself, and the players realize this is the first time they’ve ever seen Ripka struggle with his emotions. “It really wasn’t the fact that I got a concussion. It was that when they asked me how many I’d already sustained, I wasn’t sure. I have a family to look after now, and while I will miss playing on Sundays, I honestly look forward to the quiet life.” Ripka purses his lips, trying to continue. No one says anything, and no one will until it’s clear he’s finished. “One more thing,” Ripka says. “I’ve had a great career, and there’s no doubt that career will be defined for what I did in Chicago, as a Bear. But let me say here and now, for the record, that part of me will always be a Knight. I have you all to thank for that.” Apparently finished, Ripka takes a few steps back from into the crowd. Nearby players tap his shoulders and shake his hand. “Alright then,” Harden says, fighting back the shock and disappointment of losing one of the greatest veteran safeties he’s ever coached. “Anyone else retiring?” Everyone looks around; no one speaks. “Good. For those you sticking around, I’m sure your curious as to who your new coach is gonna be. Well, you’re looking at him.” Phillips looks up in shock, this being news to him. He glances at Schneider, who looks uneasy, then back to Harden, who seems more confident than ever. “I’ve spoken with Mr. Phillips, and I understand there are some procedural things to clear up, but starting next season, I’m in charge.” He steps towards the middle of the room and surveys the players’ reactions. That sounds fine to Maverick, though things are still uncertain offensively. Is Everett sticking around? Will Harden pick his own guy to micromanage the offense? Bishop feels disappointed. He knows Harden is a good coach, but he has no desire to play for a tough, in-your-face coach like him. Free agency is now imminent. Randall loves this. He has to assume nothing will change defensively, and although he will miss Ripka’s leadership, it’s his turn to take complete charge of the defense. Brock feels encouraged. Harden likes him, which increases the chances of him re-signing with the Knights. Maybe he can still squeeze out a nice paycheck. Martin has similar thoughts, still hoping to become a full-time inside linebacker. If any coach will do that for him, it’s Harden. “For those of you returning,” Harden says, “I want you to think about something as you enjoy some time off. We let the season get away from us this year. I don’t think any of us know exactly how or why, but we let it get away and we lost who we are. When you go home to your families, when you head out of the country for vacation, and when you return for workouts this offseason, I want you to remember that.” Harden studies the faces of the men around him, the entire football team. His football team. “We lost what it means to be a Knight. Next year, we’re gonna get it back.” 14 Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Vin+ 3,121 Posted February 20, 2015 And so it begins... So we've got our villain now. And Campin cameo. 2 Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
GA_Eagle 595 Posted February 20, 2015 Stevo kills it again 1 Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
RazorStar 4,025 Posted February 20, 2015 WAAAAAAAYNE! An excellent chapter, Steven, I'm looking forward to the Phillips x Schneider conflict unfold. 1 Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Bangy 19 Posted February 20, 2015 Soooo hard ass merle is the new HC. With Daniels gone and potentially Bishop will we get updates on them or will they just disappear. Also was the man with the amazing beard Cooper was talking to? Good jobs as always Stevio. 1 Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Sarge+ 3,436 Posted February 20, 2015 (edited) Amazing finish to a great Part II. Can't wait until summer for Part III now. - Campin cameo. I literally lol'd at this: "As the verbal coaching carousel rages on, Cooper talks to another fan, much younger than him, at the bar. He never gets his name, though he says he’s from Florida and sports a beard that belongs in medieval times." - Also lol'd at this: "“Why don’t you stick to defense, coach?” “As many picks as you’ve thrown this year, you’ve probably made enough tackles to qualify.” Get totally fucking burned, Mav. - Have to admit, I didn't see Chance offering the job to Merle. Also didn't see Merle accepting it. Really interesting twist. I think it accomplishes two things. 1. Chance really does believe he's the right guy for the job and 2. He's gonna stick it to Schneider by staying in-house when I don't think it's what Schneider would have wanted. - Not surprised that Ripka retired. But he'll be missed. - I have a feeling Bishop has played his last game as a Knight. - And yes, I am looking forward to the tension between Phillips and Schneider. Edited February 20, 2015 by Sarge 2 Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
BwareDWare94 723 Posted February 20, 2015 Well, this is turning out awesome. 1 Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Maverick 791 Posted February 20, 2015 Awesome stuff. And shut up, Sarge. >_> I feel like we're going to find out more about why Daniel was fired...I don't think it was just because the team collapsed. Something fishy is going on. 1 Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
BigBen07 285 Posted February 21, 2015 Great chapter Stevo! So much to take in right now. I'm not sure where to begin... PART III NEEDS TO GET HERE! 1 Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Favre4Ever+ 4,476 Posted February 21, 2015 Maybe... Arguably... Potentially both the most entertaining and technically sound chapter written in Knights history. I eagerly anticipate the next season. Hope there is something in the works for Daniels.. Maybe take over for fat lard McCarthy and lead the Packers to the promised land against the Knights in a few years ... HahaI don't know if it's in the plans or not, but it does make a lot of sense to me in a way.. I mean how impractical would it be for the Knights to retain ALL of our players / coaches throughout the life of this thing? Probably not... Daniel leaving COULD be a real good potential solution. Oh, and Chet... I have a new staff to assemble, what do you say? 2 Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
theMileHighGuy 656 Posted February 21, 2015 Great finish Thanks for the time and effort you put into these. 1 Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
ATL_Predator+ 1,196 Posted February 21, 2015 Merle gon lose his family... Pity, would rather play for a real HC instead 1 Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Cherry 1,302 Posted February 21, 2015 Merle talking bout family tho 1 Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Zack_of_Steel+ 3,014 Posted February 21, 2015 Chapter was pretty fucking perfect, Stevo. But, uh, we never saw the conclusion of the sack contest. 2 Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
RazorStar 4,025 Posted February 22, 2015 Caden Daniel won the sack contest. Not something he's happy about I'm sure. 3 Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
SteVo+ 3,702 Posted February 22, 2015 Chapter was pretty fucking perfect, Stevo. But, uh, we never saw the conclusion of the sack contest. Welp, looks like I forgot about this one. I made a conscious decision to have the final two chapters show things mostly from the front office/coaching point of view rather than the players, but I feel like we still should have found out who won the contest. Looks like it's a cliffhanger for Part III instead. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites