SteVo+ 3,702 Posted January 15, 2016 Knights of Andreas Part IV Based on Characters Created by: badgers Bangy Barracuda Bay BigBen07 BradyFan81 BwareDware94 Chernobyl426 DarthRaider DonovanMcnabb for H.O.F eightnine FartWaffles Favre4Ever JetsFan4Life Maverick monstersofthemidway RazorStar Sarge seanbrock SteVo Thanatos19 theMileHighGuy Vin Zack_of_Steel Chapter Forty-Seven – Plays Gone By Every win on a team’s record counts the same in the standings, but they don’t all feel the same. At the halfway mark of their season, the Knights are 6-2 and have won three straight. But everyone in the MedComm Center knows what a win this Sunday would mean for the organization. The Super Bowl loss ten months ago is still a painful memory for everyone, and probably will be forever. For now, the Broncos win fills the second floor offices with satisfaction and hope. The AFC West is an unprecedented logjam of good teams, but the Knights are currently on top. San Diego’s 5-4 record, however, places them last. One loss for any team could drop them drastically within the division. Phillips stops by Keegan’s office to see if his statistical analysis has produced anything noteworthy thus far. It apparently hasn’t, and the two discuss the team as if they’re casual fans. Eventually, Phillips says, “Hey, as long as we have Mad Max, we’ll be okay,” half joking. Keegan spins his chair around and looks bewildered, as if Phillips has just made a religious insult. “Mad Max?” he says incredulously. “The Mad Max with 6.2 yards per attempt and 7.3 yards per target? Don’t kid yourself, Chance, we’re winning in spite of Buchanan, not because of him.” “But we are winning,” Phillips says, walking out of the room. “Keep working. Let’s meet after lunch.” Phillips takes a few steps into the hallway before hearing the voice of Jennifer, his secretary. “Mr. Phillips?” “Good morning, Jennifer.” “Adam Javad is on the line for you.” That’s strange. Javad usually sends a text first. Phillips checks his cell phone—no new messages. “I’ll take it in my office,” Phillips says, closing the door behind him and picking up the phone. “Good morning, Adam. Is something up?” “You gotta give me details,” Javad says. “An exclusive story on Rose? Talk to me.” “It’s coming from the top. Schneider wants to counter all the negative media attention on Rose with a humanizing interview. So you can’t go after the guy. Your job is to make him look good, like it or not.” “Oh, I don’t care. The opportunity is enough, doesn’t matter what the spin is. Timetable?” “Not soon, I don’t think. Rose won’t go for it, to begin with.” “Neither will Harden, will he?” “Probably not, but he’ll come around. When orders come from the top, things get done.” “Now that I think about it, I can’t see Harden liking this at all.” “Relax, Adam. Like I said, he’ll come around. It just won’t happen soon.” Merle gets home later than expected Monday night. As soon as he opens the front door, the stench hits him. “Goddamn it,” he says. He’s not sure if it’s unwashed dishes or food he left sitting out or something else. Whatever it is, he decides it’s too late to bother, grabs some whiskey, and sits on the porch. Life as an NFL head coach doesn’t leave much time at home, though it’s not as if Merle has anyone at home to see anyway. On that note, he looks at his phone and notices that Melinda still hasn’t returned his calls or texts. “Fuck it.” He tosses the phone aside, turns on the radio, and takes a big gulp from his glass. The words from the recording fade in. “Brad Neeman here, for Firebirds Radio. It’s game night, folks! We got the Firebirds of Devil’s Lake High School versus the Roughriders of Red River High School. Both teams come in undefeated, with a 7-0 record…” That was the 1983 season, Merle’s fourth at Devil’s Lake. The Firebirds finished 10-0 and went on a run that ended in the state semifinals, but the game against Red River was the biggest win of the regular season. Merle drinks and listens, reliving each snap as if he were right back on the sidelines, a thirtysomething-year-old coach again. “Jensen, back to pass. Fires deep, looking for King, he’s got him! Touchdown, Firebirds!” Jeremy King. A lanky, 6’3” receiver who towered over defenders and took over games. He carried the offense that year. “Is Coach Harden sending an all-out blitz? He is! But the pass gets away, and it’s a screen. Look out! Blockers ahead, and they will take this one all the way for a touchdown, and this game is about to be tied. A bit of a risky blitz called by Merle Harden there.” “Fuck you, Neeman.” The game ends about forty minutes later (what a great get these edited recordings were), and Merle tops off the whiskey for the next game. When that game ends, Merle stumbles and hits his head on the doorway trying to get another glass. “Time to slow down, Merle.” He puts a few cubes of ice in the glass this time. He wakes up in his bed upstairs with a headache. He grabs his flask of whiskey on the way out, gets an iced coffee at a drive-thru, and gets to the MedComm Center just in time. With practice wrapped up, reporters flood the locker room, and the usual crowds gather around the usual players. Only a few Knights are not available for comment, Rose included. Max Buchanan, however, has been drawing a larger audience each week, and today continues that trend. Passing by, Maverick notices the crowd and eventually enters the locker room with a football in hand. He’s happy to show off the latest progress of his rehab—moving his arm fluidly below the neck—and he soon garners a crowd of his own, with questions flying. “How’s the shoulder?” four reporters ask simultaneously. “It feels good,” Maverick says. “I feel good, you know? You just gotta let the doctors do their thing in these situations, but I’m feeling better every day and I can’t wait to get back out there.” “Mav, some have suggested, with the way Max has been playing, that there could be some controversy—” Maverick laughs, and a few reporters scoff. “—not a full-blown quarterback controversy itself, just that with the way Max is playing, the team should be conservative with your rehab and not let you come back until you’re fully healthy. What do you think about that?” “Listen, Max has done a good job, I’m not gonna debate that. But there is no controversy. Whatsoever. On any level. Once I get the green light from the doctors, I’m playing. Max is back there, doing the best he can, but he can’t do for this offense what I can. So you’re gonna see me back as soon as I can be back. There’s no doubt about that.” Friday afternoon, the Knights are in the middle of their final practice day for Seattle, running plays straight from the game’s playbook. Suddenly, Coach Harden’s whistle rings throughout the practice field, and everyone stops. “Everybody shower, change, and meet in the auditorium in thirty minutes,” Harden instructs. Nobody needs to be told twice. Players jog back indoors, some of them sprinting. A few speculate as to what Harden is up to. “Coach cutting practice short? That’s a first,” Randall says. “He said meet in the auditorium, though,” Martin says. “So, movie?” “Probably making us watch Remember the Titans or some shit,” Wilkes says. Half an hour later, players fill most seats in the auditorium with the coaching staff in the first two rows. Harden gets everyone’s attention as the projector screen fades in to something nobody can recognize yet. “We’ve had a good week of practice, but there’s been an elephant in every fucking room, and I’m sick of it. So we’re gonna say fuck the elephant.” The screen materializes, and the audio kicks in. “…as we welcome you back,” the voice of Joe Buck says, “for the start of Super Bowl XLVIII, the Seattle Seahawks and the Los Angeles Knights…” Players groan and sulk back in their seats. A few start booing. “Cut that shit out right now!” Harden says, silencing the crowd. “Yes, we lost the goddamn Super Bowl, and yes we’re gonna be thinking about it on Sunday. It’s time to get the fuck over it. We’re gonna watch every snap of this fucking game, and if anybody so much as yawns, I’m dragging each and every one of you back on that practice field and making you run suicides until we have to catch our flight tomorrow afternoon.” The lights dim, and the commentary of Buck and Troy Aikman fills the auditorium. Harden takes a seat next to McKenzie and looks down—his iced coffee isn’t there. “Oops,” Luck says, “I think I took yours. Jesus, what’s in this, coach? Tastes like shit.” “Give me my fucking coffee!” Harden grabs it back, almost dropping it. “What’s the matter with you, Sam?” “Sorry, thought it was mine.” Harden drinks from the cup as McKenzie shoots him a suspicious look. After a few minutes, the players get into it, cheering and clapping for each positive play as if they’re fans watching the game themselves. After every negative play, no one makes a sound. The first half goes quickly, just like it did at the time. Before long, it’s 7-3 Seahawks, just before halftime. Buck: “Lynch gets another carry, picks up about four, and it’s third and eleven. Clock continues to tick, now inside a minute, and neither team calling timeout.” Aikman: “Yeah, Joe, Seattle’s gonna get the ball to start the second half, so they appear content to just run this thing out and take a 7-3 lead into halftime, and the Knights don’t seem like they want to force anything either.” Flash wants to bury his face in his hands, knowing the play coming next. Buck: “Here’s a play fake. Wilson rolls out, looking downfield, he fires deep, looking for Harvin, and he’s got him! Harvin to the twenty! The ten! Touchdown, Seattle! Percy Harvin gets behind Griswold Johnson and the Seahawks get a big strike just before halftime!” Aikman: “This is a deflating play if you’re the Knights. Here you see, here’s Johnson in coverage, he bites as Harvin breaks toward the sideline and gets beat. He recovers nicely, but Harvin just has too much speed, and Russell Wilson hits him in stride.” Flash closes his eyes, unable to watch a play he’s relieved in his head a hundred times. Rose and Schwinn, sitting nearby, pat him on the back. The second half begins, and the mood in the auditorium improves, reaching a high point when Maverick finds Johnson for the Knights’ first touchdown. Aikman: “Looks like the Knights are gonna go for two here, Joe, after scoring the touchdown. They’re down 14-12, only a few seconds left in the third quarter, and Merle Harden’s gonna try to tie the game right here.” This time, it’s Bishop who doesn’t want to watch. He adjusts his position uncomfortably. Buck: “They line up in a goal line set, Wilkes and Johnson each out wide, Maverick under center. Maverick fakes a handoff. Blitz. Maverick’s under pressure, he fires. Bishop bobbles it. Still bobbling around, and now it lands incomplete. The try is no good after a hurried pass that hit Logan Bishop in the hands.” Aikman: “We’re gonna see here on the replay if that was a catchable ball or not. Maverick had to rush the throw, as you said, Joe, with Seattle blitzing up the middle. Bishop breaks on his route, he’s open, and the ball does indeed hit him in the hands. Would have been a really tough catch, but I bet if you ask Logan Bishop, he’ll say he should have had that one, and the Knights miss an opportunity to tie this football game.” Bishop tries to shake it off. You’re right about that, Troy. Intensity builds as the Seahawks add a field goal in the fourth quarter, and the Knights mount a potential go-ahead drive. Buck: “They’re gonna mark Jaxson one yard short, so it’ll be second and one. Under eleven minutes to go in the fourth, Knights trailing, 17-12. Maverick drops back, pumps, throws, for Wilkes, and Sherman knocks it away! Wilkes, it looked like, was open by a step, but Richard Sherman makes a great play.” Aikman: “Wilkes did get a step, he beats Sherman on a double move, and Maverick underthrows the pass, very slightly, but it’s just enough for Sherman to get his hands on it.” Buck: “Naturally, Wilkes and Sherman chirping to each other after that play. And now you’ve got Wilkes and Maverick talking. Maverick trying to get everybody set in formation here. It’s third and one. Wilkes still not set, now he’s finally ready with the play clock running low, and Maverick’s gonna have to call timeout! Maverick is visibly angry, screaming at his wide receiver as the Knights burn a timeout with 10:17 left.” A few players start hissing, glaring at Wilkes, who shakes his head. Aikman: “Just inexcusable there by Wilkes, and you see Merle Harden talking to him on the sideline. But the Knights, trailing by five points, are going to need all the time they can get, so that is a big timeout wasted right there.” “Get ‘em, Troy!” someone says. “Fuck y’all!” Wilkes says, rising from his seat. “I don’t see anyone busting Maverick’s balls for the shitty pass!” “Sit down, D-Jam,” McKenzie says. Tempers cool, but just minutes later, everyone relives the intensity of the game’s final drive. Buck: “Watson catches it and runs out of bounds at the forty-six-yard line. The clock stops with 1:14 to go.” Aikman: “That’s a small gain, but an important one, because the Knights now are, if nothing else, close enough for a Hail Mary down by five points.” Buck: “Maverick drops back, under pressure, steps up, throws it up. Oh, what a catch by Wilkes! He one-hands it, jumping over Byron Maxwell, and goes down at the thirty-eight!” “That’s right!” Wilkes says. “Y’all see that? Oh, didn’t think so!” Buck: “Maverick hurrying the offense back to the line as the clock ticks. We’re under a minute now. Maverick, getting everyone set, takes the snap from shotgun with 49 to go. Under pressure, and he’s sacked! Michael Bennett making a big play as the clock continues to run.” Aikman: “Maverick’s looking to the sideline, but it looks like the Knights want to preserve their last timeout, so they’re gonna spike it.” Buck: “And Maverick does spike it. The clock stops at 32 seconds, and it’s gonna be third and sixteen after the huge sack by Bennett.” Aikman: “You’re gonna see the replay here, there’s Bennett, and he just beats Brian Penner right off the line and has a free rush at Maverick. That’s a terrific play by Bennett. Penner is not an easy guy to get around like that.” Penner studies the replay closely, as he has multiple times this offseason. “It was my feet,” he says to Grodd and other linemen sitting nearby. “Watch, look how I get twisted up there. Inexcusable. Never again.” The drive continues until all conversations die, and the entire auditorium goes silent for the most painful memory of all: the season’s final play. Buck: “Maverick takes the snap, pumps, rolls to his left, throws for the end zone…into a crowd, the ball is tipped! In the air, tipped again! And it is intercepted by Seattle! Richard Sherman! He takes it out of the end zone, goes down, and the Seattle Seahawks are Super Bowl champions!” Nobody speaks. They just sit in silence, in wonder, as they did when the play happened. The screen shuts off, the lights fade back on, and Harden gets in front of the team. “This may seem strange, but do me a favor,” he says. “Whatever you get from watching this game—anger, frustration, disgust, determination—bring it with you to Seattle.” The Knights offense takes the field to start the game, CenturyLink Field booming with crowd noise. Buchanan steps to the line, ready to initiate a silent snap count. Jameson takes a carry off-tackle left for three yards, then Buchanan throws a quick slant to Johnson for six yards. Seattle stacks the box for third and one. Buchanan tries calling a fake audible, but his own linemen can’t even hear him. He hands off to Jameson, who runs into a pile for no gain. Fourth and one. The punt teams come on as Seahawks fans scream, raising the noise on the field to impressive levels. The Knights play at Arrowhead Stadium annually, and this is louder. As McKenzie and his offensive line look at pictures, trying to find a way through Seattle’s front seven, the noise dampens for the Seahawks offense taking the field. Marshawn Lynch gets the bulk of the carries, and the Knights bottle him up. Luck and Anthrax get penetration and prevent Lynch from hitting the hole with speed. Russell Wilson, however, moves the chains by finding receivers over the middle. Rose removes Doug Baldwin from the game, but Wilson hits other receivers for short gains. Kearse for six, Richardson for seven, Kearse for five. From the sidelines, Harden identifies the problem: Flash is playing way too soft in coverage. Following a surprising trade, the Seahawks no longer have Percy Harvin as a downfield threat, so there’s no reason for Flash to be tentative. Forced into a one-dimensional offense, the Seahawks reach field goal range, soon facing third and five. Wilson drops back to pass, looking deep, but everyone’s covered. Brock breaks off the edge and swats at the football. It drops from Wilson’s hand, but he covers it, resulting in an eight-yard loss. Still in field goal range, Steven Hauschka comes on for a fifty-yard attempt. He kicks it between the uprights and, just like in the Super Bowl, Seattle strikes first. McKenzie walks from the edge of the sideline to his position coaches, huddled together. “We need something, ladies,” he says. “Two three-and-outs ain’t gonna cut it. I want a first down before the quarter’s over, for Christ’s sake.” As the Seahawks get ready to punt, the coaches discuss a few aggressive options, and McKenzie picks one. After a commercial break, Buchanan breaks the huddle with the play already called. He fakes a handoff and rolls out to his right. Blue jerseys swarm all the receivers breaking toward the sideline, as expected. Buchanan plants his right foot and fires across the field, toward Watson, who is open. Downfield, Wilkes, who just ran a pointless route against Sherman, lowers his shoulders and plows the cornerback to the ground. Watson streaks down the field, blue jerseys in pursuit. He reaches the eighteen before being tripped up, and the Knights are in business. An off-tackle run by Jameson and toss to Banks get six yards, bringing up third and four. In the huddle, Bishop hears the call, a play-action rollout designed for him on a corner. He eagerly gets in formation and studies the defense. He’s not gonna drop it this time. He breaks off the line, runs down the middle, then cuts toward the end zone, open. He looks back for the pass, but the play is over, thanks to a sack. The Seattle crowd roars as McCabe comes on to attempt a thirty-six-yard field goal. The kick goes right down the middle, and the game is tied, 3-3. The opening jitters subside, and it’s the Super Bowl all over again, with two great defenses stymying the opposing offenses. Neither team turns the ball over, so the game becomes a field position battle with first downs hard to come by. Both offenses stay committed to running the ball despite not gaining much yardage, so the game passes quickly, and before long, the Knights have the ball with 2:43 to go in the first half, backed up on their own fifteen. McKenzie knows Harden won’t accept running the clock out, so he operates the two-minute offense, pretending it’s not Buchanan under center. Buchanan finds Johnson over the middle for twelve yards and a first down. The Knights hurry back to the line. Wilkes hears the play call, which has him running a go route. Great, now he’ll have to tire himself out while being ignored. Maybe he can just run a quick slant and pretend it was a miscommunication. He breaks off the line and sprints downfield, Sherman all over him at every step. Eventually he turns to see if the play’s over, and a bullet pass zips straight for him. Wilkes puts up his hands at the last second and catches it. Sherman brings him down, ball still in hand, and the twenty-six-yard gain silences the crowd and sets up the Knights at midfield. A bug-eyed Wilkes gets back in formation, unable to restrain himself from complimenting his quarterback. “Hell of a throw, Max! Mav couldn’t have hit that shit.” On the sidelines, McKenzie is also impressed, and he decides to feed the hot hand. Buchanan fires quick strikes, looking more poised than ever. Inside the two-minute warning, the Knights are positioned for a strike before halftime. McKenzie calls a draw to Jameson that catches Seattle off-guard. Jameson surges through the middle of the defense and reaches the twenty-five with the clock ticking. Buchanan finds Bishop over the middle, bringing the Knights inside the red zone. The clock ticks: 0:45, 0:44… Harden jogs toward McKenzie, yelling, “Mac! You want a timeout?” McKenzie shakes his head. “Don’t want to mess up the rhythm.” Buchanan shouts the next play call, the crowd noise still high. He takes a snap in shotgun, scans the field, and gets crushed by a blindside hit. Harden runs onto the field to call timeout, and the clock freezes at 0:28, the Knights now back to the twenty-five. The energy in the stadium tilts back to the home team as McKenzie calls a screen to get some yardage back. Buchanan takes the snap and almost throws it, but pulls back. He rolls out, trying to avoid pressure, gets tripped up, and falls for another sack. Harden walks up to an official, eyes on the clock, and calls timeout with 0:05 left. No choice, he sends out the field goal unit to attempt a fifty-five yarder. He laments the loss of Sebastian Janikowski, who was damn near automatic from this range. With the crowd screaming, McCabe lines up and boots it. The kick sails high and deep, splitting the uprights perfectly with about five yards of distance to spare. The stadium goes quiet, save for the celebrating white jerseys on the visitors’ sideline, jogging to the locker room with a 6-3 lead. Among them, McKenzie races to catch up to Harden. “This what a playoff game feels like?” McKenzie asks. “Yeah, this is about it,” Harden says. “Not like last year, though. Feels like we’re gonna win this one.” The back-and-forth continues in the second half, both offenses still trying to establish a run game, and still finding no traction. Harden has an easy day from a play calling standpoint, with Luck and Anthrax stuffing Lynch at every turn while Grantzinger and Brock penetrate the backfield every passing down. Seattle’s receivers aren’t getting separation, so the Knights shouldn’t give up any more points today. Meanwhile, McKenzie remembers the New England game, where the Patriots honed in on Jameson and forced the Knights to make plays elsewhere. McKenzie utilizes a similar strategy, leaning on Banks and NesSmith in the backfield, but believes an improved Buchanan can get the team yardage this time. Despite a lack of offense, plenty of big hits and post-whistle jawing keeps the tension high as the third quarter ticks away. With 1:19 on the clock, the Knights start a possession on their own nineteen. Buchanan has looked more shaky this half, and the Seahawks are doing a better job in pass coverage, especially against Bishop. McKenzie has no idea whose number to call. A few quick throws to Watson and Johnson bring up third and two. McKenzie calls on Jameson to power through and get a first down. Jameson takes a handoff up the middle, gets the two yards, then bounces outside, finding running room. He stiff-arms a defender, trying to fight him off, and gets hit from behind. The ball pops loose. It bounces around and into a pile of Seahawks, and the home team takes over. An openly apologetic Jameson returns to the sideline, repeatedly saying, “That’s on me.” It’s hard to fault a back for his first fumble of the year, but Seattle is already in field goal range. A tired Knights defense goes back to work. After a Lynch carry gets two yards, Grantzinger breaks through on second down and sacks Wilson for a five-yard loss. That ticks the clock to zero, and the teams switch sides for the fourth quarter. Third and thirteen. Wilson drops back to pass, then dumps it off to Lynch on a screen, but Randall has it sniffed out. He sneaks between blockers, gets a piece of Lynch, and reinforcements arrive, bringing him down for no gain. Hauschka comes on for the forty-one-yard attempt and boots it through. The game is tied, 6-6, with 14:13 to play. After gaining two first downs, the Knights have to punt again, and Harden prepares his defense for a crucial drive. “Need a turnover!” he shouts. “Let’s win this game right now!” Harden has no other choice; his offense is stagnant, and without a significant momentum shift, either Seattle will take the lead or the game will end in a stupid fucking tie. Ramping up the aggression, Harden sends blitzes on every play, resulting in a run of no gain and a rushed incompletion by Wilson, bringing up third and ten. Harden calls an all-out blitz as Wilson lines up in shotgun. On the snap, everybody runs. Randall gets blocked, but Martin has a free shot at the quarterback. Wilson ducks, avoids Martin’s reach, and takes off up the middle, green grass in front of him. He runs to the left with safeties closing, headed for the sideline. Flash narrows the gap and extends his arm, wanting to strip the ball out. He swats, grabbing for the ball, but gets Wilson’s facemask instead. The two fall down a few yards away from the yellow flag. The scramble plus the personal foul puts the Seahawks at midfield and the Knights defense on its heels. After containing Wilson all day, a run like that makes Harden rethink his strategy. He backs off from blitzing a bit, and Wilson finds open receivers. Seattle methodically moves the ball into field goal range with the clock moving. Stacking the box, the Knights contain the run game and eventually bring up fourth down. Hauschka comes on for a potential go-ahead field goal from thirty-nine yards out. The field goes quiet, and the kick sails high, down the middle, and good. Harden looks at the scoreboard: Seahawks 9, Knights 6, 3:53 to go. His team will get the ball back for the last minute, potential game winning drive. “Just like last year!” an assistant coach says. “Yeah, déjà fucking vu,” Harden says. “I hate this game sometimes, I swear to God.” McKenzie doesn’t fully trust Buchanan in a two-minute drill, but he doesn’t have a choice. Besides, he’s played exceptionally well today and only needs to get in field goal range. With a good amount of time and all three timeouts, the Knights operate no-huddle at a moderate pace. Buchanan hits receivers over the middle on safe routes, sitting behind a clean pocket. Penner is most focused of all, concentrating on his footwork and sticking his man every time, not allowing any defenders past him. A completion to Bishop gets a first down to the thirty-two, and the clock ticks inside three minutes. Buchanan gets everybody lined up, drops back, looks right, and gets blindsided. The ball pops loose, but he falls on top of it. Harden calls timeout, and the clock freezes at 2:43. Second and eighteen. A screen pass gets the eight yards back, then Watson catches a sideline pass and goes out of bounds, bringing up fourth and five. The stadium reaches peak volume again, and McKenzie calls a simple play, knowing Buchanan won’t be able to audible. He takes the snap in shotgun and looks to Wilkes, blanketed by Sherman. Bishop breaks open over the middle, but Buchanan can’t see him, forced to roll left, escaping pressure. Johnson is covered, but he sees Buchanan running and runs toward the sideline. The pass comes in low, and Johnson dives, extending his entire body and catching it inches above the grass. The refs rule a completion, and the Knights have a first down at the two-minute warning. During the commercial, McKenzie finalizes his plan. Two minutes, two timeouts, the Knights are on their forty-seven, about fifteen to twenty yards from McCabe’s range. Both teams line up, and the crowd gets loud again. Buchanan drops back with extra protection this time and lets the routes develop. He steps up, tracking Johnson over the middle. Defenders close in, and he fires for Johnson, who comes back for the ball, but a blue jersey undercuts the route. It’s Earl Thomas, making the catch and running ahead for an extra ten yards before being brought down. The stadium enters a state of bedlam while the Knights sideline is stagnant. Despite having two timeouts and stacking the box, the Knights can’t stop Lynch from getting a first down, and Seattle runs out the clock. With the stadium around them celebrating, the Knights march somberly back to the locker room, heads down, not saying a word. One by one, the Knights walk into the locker room, pieces of confetti falling off some of their jerseys. Players and coaches find a spot and sit down. Everyone keeps to themselves, trying to process everything mentally. Silence fills the locker room, save for cleats clicking against the floor that bears the Super Bowl XLVIII logo and muted cheers from the celebration occurring on the field. Each player relives parts of the game, thinking back to every mistake, wondering what if. If Flash doesn’t let Harvin behind him, it’s only 7-3 at halftime and maybe the Knights take the lead in the second half. If Bishop catches the two-point conversion, it’s 17-14 on the final drive, and maybe both teams are playing in overtime right now. If Wilkes doesn’t force the timeout, maybe the Knights have time to get closer for Maverick’s final throw. If Penner doesn’t miss a block, maybe the Knights have time to score the Super Bowl winning touchdown. Maybe the Knights are hoisting the Lombardi Trophy right now instead of the Seahawks. There are plenty of hypotheticals in football, countless what-ifs, should-haves, and could-have-beens. But there is only one winner, and one loser. The Knights will carry this silence with them for months because there’s no game next week. No game next month. Nothing but an entire offseason to think about this Super Bowl—and about how hard it’s going to be to get back. 8 Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Maverick 791 Posted January 15, 2016 QB controversy LOL that's cute. Excellent chapter. I liked the parallels during the game that were referencing our SB loss against Seattle. Damn Seahawks. I hate them in real life and your book. -__- Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Sarge+ 3,436 Posted January 15, 2016 Great chapter, but is anyone else about to hateneg the shit out of Steven if he keeps writing Seattle to beat us? Banbanbanban IMO. 4 Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Sarge+ 3,436 Posted January 17, 2016 Only 2 replies? Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
SteVo+ 3,702 Posted January 21, 2016 Bumpity bump. Only 2 comments? TGPls. New chapter tomorrow! 1 Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
GA_Eagle 595 Posted February 24, 2016 Love the ending. Way to callback the last installment Share this post Link to post Share on other sites