SteVo+ 3,702 Posted August 13, 2016 | | | | Knights of Andreas Part V Based on Characters Created by: badgers Bangy Barracuda Bay BigBen07 BradyFan81 BwareDware94 CampinWithGoatSampson Chernobyl426 CrimsonRaider DonovanMcnabb for H.O.F eightnine FartWaffles Favre4Ever GA_Eagle JetsFan4Life Maverick RazorStar Sarge seanbrock SteVo Thanatos Turry theMileHighGuy Vin Zack_of_Steel Chapter Fifty-Seven – Castles of Glass Javad types feverishly at his laptop, writing an article on the Clippers’ two-point loss to Houston last night while talking on Twitter about this bizarre Rose story. Currently, the rumors range from “Rose attacked the man with a knife” to “The entire thing was just a shouting match.” None of his key sources has responded to his texts. His phone vibrates nearby. He keeps typing, trying to finish this paragraph. The phone vibrates again. Then again. He slams his fingers against the keyboard and snatches the phone. This better be— “Oh no…” He minimizes his article and brings up multiple web sites: Twitter, Rotoworld, ESPN, NFL.com. All but ESPN have the story: the Knights have released Malik Rose. The fallout is clear and present on Twitter, where other Los Angeles writers have beaten Javad to the punch by minutes, an eternity in 21st century online journalism. He Tweets the news himself, refusing to give credit to a colleague who had it first. He tries to calm himself down and grasp the implications of Rose no longer being a Knight, and then it hits him. He feels his heart sink. The one-on-one interview, the job at the L.A. Times… He looks back at his phone. If this was the big event Phillips alluded to, why is Javad left out of the loop? Something is off here, and there better be a good reason for it. Javad finds the most recent text to Phillips and—actually, forget texting. He calls Phillips and puts the phone on speaker as he types. “You better fucking answer.” Malik closes the door behind him, a blank expression on his face as he studies the surroundings of the house he must soon move out of. Eva comes running from the other room, visibly shaken. “I just heard, baby, I’m so sorry,” she says, embracing her husband. Malik is about to say something to her when Flash appears. “You’re still here?” Malik says, separating from Eva. “I can’t believe it, man,” Flash says. “This ain’t right.” “It doesn’t matter, Griz. It happened. It’s over.” “There’s gotta be something we—” “There’s not.” Malik hears Jasmin’s hurried footsteps from the nearest hallway. She holds Tatyiana in her arms as she approaches the trio of adults, looking up at them. “Daddy, I don’t get it,” she says. “What’s going on?” “Say goodbye to Uncle Griswold, baby,” Malik says. “We have to pack.” “Okay. Bye, Uncle Griswold.” She hands Tatyiana to her mother, and Flash picks her up for a big hug before turning back to Malik. “I’ll call you,” Malik says, “let you know what’s going on.” Flash nods as he lowers Jasmin back to the floor. He says bye to Eva, and then he’s outside, staring at the closed front door in wonder. He walks toward his car, no longer within earshot of the kids, and lets it all out. He releases a wave of obscenities only he can hear, driving away and cursing the Los Angeles Knights. Once on the highway, he calls his agent, slightly more composed but just as angry. “We’ll make a statement tomorrow,” Schneider says to the congregation in Phillips’ office, “let things cool down first. For now, the football side of this is more urgent. Chance?” Phillips: “We’ve got holes at both cornerback spots, and the market is pretty thin. Revis, Maxwell, House, Cromartie are all gone. As far as guys we consider starters, there’s Chris Culliver, Tramon Williams, and Perrish Cox.” Schneider: “Merle?” Harden doesn’t look up, staring his bandaged knuckles. “Don’t know enough about any of ‘em to make a decision right now.” Stein: “We should also point out a couple things. Williams just turned 32; Culliver is about be signed by Washington, from what we hear; and Cox’s off-the-field resume includes sexual assault charges.” Schneider: “Let me worry about character. Merle, study up on Culliver and Cox, see what you think. Chance, work both agents, see if we have an avenue with either. And study tape with Merle so you guys are on the same page.” Harden and Phillips glare at each other as everyone scatters. Phillips spends the next few hours at his desk, on the phone, with people popping their heads in for seconds at a time. Chris Culliver is, indeed, on the brink of signing a contract with Washington, and without enough time to sufficiently study the cornerback, the Knights relent, and Culliver is a Redskin. Phillips rules out Tramon Williams due to age unless he can get a one- or two-year deal, but Williams’ agent insists on at least three years. With multiple three-year offers on the table, the Knights back out. That leaves Perrish Cox as the only viable option. From a few hours of film study, Harden simply says, “I like what I see so far.” Phillips knows Cox’s career was uninspiring before 2015 and suspects he won’t see him as a sensible investment. The Knights’ cornerback situation, though, is approaching desperate. Phillips works the phones until people stop answering and pours through film and scouting reports well into the night, sleeping at the MedComm Center a few hours before starting again. A full assembly of reporters looks toward the podium as Phillips, Schneider, and Harden deliver a formal statement with the cameras rolling. “I want to begin by thanking Malik Rose for his service to the team the last four years,” Schneider says, staring straight into the crowd, never glancing down at his paper. “Malik is one of the best cornerbacks in football, and he played an integral role in us winning a Super Bowl. For that, we will be forever grateful. Unfortunately, we had to make a very tough decision yesterday, and I want to stress that this was not a football decision. This was not an economic decision. This was a character decision.” As Schneider goes on, Phillips sees Javad in the crowd, a stern look on his face. Phillips hasn’t gotten the chance to speak with him yet, and he likely won’t any time soon, the way things are going. Schneider wraps up by reiterating the organization’s commitment to integrity and opens the floor for questions. Almost everyone raises their hand. “For all three of you, what are the plans at the cornerback position, with holes at both starting spots?” Phillips jumps in first. “I’ll start on that one, and maybe Merle can add to it. We’re looking at a few options available to us in free agency. We’ll consider draft options, as always. But we feel really good about Ken Lucas. We think he was highly productive last year in the nickel, and we think he’s only going to get better with a year of experience under his belt. So, would we like to add two quality cornerbacks? Absolutely. Do we feel we have to? No.” Everyone looks at Harden, waiting for his addition. “Ken is a good football player,” Harden says. “I’m comfortable with him starting on my defense.” “Coach, can you talk about what this defense will be like without Malik this year? You guys are still bringing back most of your starters, but how much of an impact did he have on the defense as a whole?” “An enormous one. Malik Rose isn’t a player you replace, plain and simple.” “Does that mean you’ll be making adjustments to the way you coach the defense, to the way you call plays?” “Can’t say right now. We’ll see.” “Chance, cutting Malik is actually gonna give you guys more cap space this year. How much of that was a factor here, and what impact does it make on your strategy moving forward?” “As Wayne said, this was not a money decision. We weren’t looking to cut Malik; we wanted to re-sign him. As it happens, gaining cap space is always a good thing, but that certainly wasn’t the objective here.” “Chance,” Javad says, “you’ve preached smart economics since you arrived in Los Angeles. You’ve earned a reputation for being methodical, for considering all aspects of a decision. Do you really expect us to believe money and cap space didn’t figure into this decision at all?” Phillips hesitates. Thanks for the unnecessarily aggressive question, Adam. “Yes we do,” Schneider says. “You’re right in that we consider all aspects of a decision when we make one, but sometimes, only one aspect is the driving force for that decision. And in this case, unfortunately, when you’re dealing with this kind of situation, despite Malik’s talent, despite his contract and anything else, this decision had to be made. And that’s that.” Phillips holds back a smile, more grateful for Wayne Schneider’s presence than ever as he watches Javad’s determined expression melt into disgust. In the hours following the conference, most Knights players remain publicly silent, though some voice reactions about their former teammate. In a phone interview with ESPN, Briggs Randall says, “He was a big part of our defense, and he’ll be missed. But no team is dependent upon one player. Just last year, we had to play without our starting quarterback for almost the whole season, and we rallied around it. We have to do the same thing this year.” A TMZ Sports reporter spots Sean Brock on Hollywood Boulevard with his girlfriend, Scarlett Lynn Smith. Brock says, “It’s a surprise to just let go of a guy that good, but it’s pretty messed up, what he did. I’d like to think if I punched out a random fan I’d be in serious trouble too.” All attempts to reach Jonathan Maverick directly fail, but he posts on Twitter: “Tough loss 4 our defense but we’ll fight back as always. Coach will figure it out! Go @KnightsNFL. #NFLoffseason #KnightsofAndreas” While leaving the MedComm center for the day, Chet Ripka gets cornered by a few reporters and says, “I’d like to know exactly what happened, and exactly what was said, because in the years that I got to know Malik Rose, I never knew him to just snap like that. None of us did. That being said, he’s gone, and it’s my job to make sure this secondary can do its job without him.” All these sentiments, however, get thrown to the background thanks to Griswold “Flash” Johnson. Flash unloads to every reporter who will listen, condemning the Knights for “a terrible decision” and claiming, “Our defense isn’t even close to elite anymore.” Perhaps more significantly, he claims to no longer be seeking a contract extension with the Knights, planning to explore free agency in a year and suggesting he’d be open to a trade. This prompts a wave of outreach toward his agent, who eventually comments publicly, saying, “Griswold’s words regarding his contract are accurate. At this time, we have ceased all negotiations with the Los Angeles Knights. Griswold intends to play out the final year of his contract and explore free agency next offseason.” Outside of the mixed signals in Los Angeles, the league’s reaction is universally positive. Reporters and fans alike express disgust at Rose’s assault on a Knights fan and applaud the Knights for placing integrity above football. A few even criticize Flash Johnson’s comments, saying he should be committed to the team, not to himself. While the football world centers on Rose, another story is brewing. That night, arrangements are made to transport Maverick’s agent to the MedComm Center privately, so no journalists can get the scoop. Some buzz accumulates regardless as negotiations continue, inching toward common ground. The voicemail on Maverick’s phone shoots a jolt of energy through his body. He hurriedly showers, shaves, and puts on his best suit. He has an inclination to buy a new one for the occasion, but he’d rather not delay the proceedings. He looks at the mansion as he backs out of the driveway; he hosted no gathering last night, but there sure will be a big party tonight. Maverick drives toward the MedComm Center trying to focus on the road, finding himself replaying the significant events of his football life in his head. The day he committed to Penn State, the dramatic Rose Bowl win over Oregon, the day he got drafted by the Knights, the Super Bowl win and MVP…and now this. He parks his car in the empty players’ lot and enters the building with a warm reception awaiting him. The mood in the building is a stark turnaround from recent weeks, and the minutes pass quickly. Thanks to an all-nighter of negotiations, the contract has been reviewed in detail by both sides several times over. It just needs the quarterback’s signature. Maverick finds himself seated in Schneider’s office with some team photographers there to capture the moment. He skims the contract, just to see the official numbers for himself. Six years, $126.6 million, with $55.4 million guaranteed, the second largest contract in NFL history. Cameras click as Maverick turns to the last page, presses the ink against the paper, and Jonathan Maverick is a Knight through 2020. Everyone in the room applauds, and Schneider starts planning the press conference. He doesn’t say it, but this will bring the Knights much-needed positive PR. Once Phillips finds the time, he goes to his office and the white board, erasing Maverick’s purple cap numbers and re-writing them in black. Phillips considered a structure that kept cap hits down in the first five years before an ugly spike in year six, but he’s sticking to his principles. Maverick’s cap hit will increase linearly by $1.2 million each year. The Knights’ team salary for 2015 now stands at $125.6 million. The rookie draft class should bump that up to $130.5 million, about $12.8 million under the cap, closer than it’s ever been, but still a reasonable figure. Phillips still hates the way Rose was let go, but the truth is it eased his financial worries. The Knights are, and will remain, comfortably under the cap. Lucrative extensions are looming for Jefferspin-Wilkes and Randall, but they’re set to count highly against the cap anyway. The player whose cap figures would be set to jump is Flash, but that situation is too complicated to assess right now. Phillips and Harden report to Schneider’s office, neither one of them sure how to feel about this situation. Harden only knows he’s confident as he and Phillips stand before the owner’s desk. “Merle,” Schneider says from his chair, “I’m aware you brought this to Chance’s attention a month ago. I hope you understand this is the first time I felt we had an appropriate moment to settle things.” “Fully understood, Mr. Schneider,” Harden says. “It’s like I told Chance, I’m not trying to rustle any feathers. I just know how to pick players for my defense.” “Very well,” Schneider says. “Let’s get this over with, then. I’m ruling in favor of Chance.” Harden’s knees feel weak. For a second, he focuses all his energy on standing upright. He doesn’t dare look sideways toward Phillips. “Chance is the GM, coach. Final say on personnel rests with him, as it always has.” “But, Mr. Schneider, if you look at—” “We’ve got a Super Bowl winning organizational structure. We’re not about to alter it. And don’t think of this as a diminishment of your authority, either. On the defensive side of the ball, your input carries a lot of weight in this building. Don’t forget that.” “Understood,” Harden says flatly, communicating he has nothing else to add. “Chance, anything you want to say?” “No, sir.” “Okay then. Adjourned?” Harden nods and paces out of the office, leaving Phillips and Schneider a little confused, but relieved. Merle slams his brakes at the end of the driveway and staggers toward the front door, more thankful than ever for the Doberman barking and jumping wildly, trying to claw the door down. “Alright, alright,” Merle says, petting Bowser as he wildly circles his legs and hops up and down. “Settle down, asshole, settle down. Let’s go outside.” He leads Bowser out the back and lets him roam around the fenced in, four-acre yard. As Bowser finds his peeing tree, Merle contemplates how to unwind. He seriously considers a drink—today seems a good day for it, though the way things are going, it’ll be needed at some point during the season—but one thing keeps him straight. A squeaky sound of car breaks reaches the back yard. Bowser hears it first, racing back toward the house. Merle knows who it is, thankful that weird coke addict Adam doesn’t visit anymore. Merle lets Bowser in, and they both eventually stand at the front door. Bowser starts barking and growling. “Sit,” Merle commands, and Bowser plops down, quiet, hair on the back of his neck raised. “Relax, asshole, that’s your mom and your sister.” He sees Melinda and Trisha emerge from the car. “Let’s go say hi.” He opens the door, and Bowser shoots out onto the porch, leaps onto the grass, and runs for the women, who don’t panic. They lean over, and Bowser’s ears flop down as he licks them both. “A big softie,” Merle says, walking toward them. “I take full responsibility.” “He’s bigger than you said he was,” Melinda says. “How old is he now?” Trisha asks. “Almost eight months. Still got some growin’ to do.” He reaches Melinda and gives her a kiss. “Great to have you home again. Both of you.” “Is there a pile of unwashed dishes waiting for me in the kitchen?” “Yep. And not for the last time.” Merle walks around the car toward Trisha and hugs her. “I’m sorry to take you away from your friends, Trish.” “It’s okay, dad. This is where we want to be.” Merle savors those words, knowing them to be true. He understood why they left a few years ago, and as much as he wanted to hate Melinda, it worked. Trisha and Merle have both been sober for a little while, and moving back in would do Trisha more good than harm, Merle and Melinda decided. They all hear the sound of a large vehicle approaching and see a moving truck pull into the driveway. “Oh, good,” Merle says. “I’ll help bring some stuff in.” “Merle, no,” Melinda says, “that’s what the movers get paid for, dear.” “It’s fine. I could use a little workout.” “Dad,” Trisha says, “let them do their job. Come inside with me.” “Oh, alright.” Merle walks toward the house, arms locked with his daughter, trying to savor the moment he has anticipated for two years, interrupted by Bowser, who he must order not to attack the strangers in the driveway. Just hours before the Knights formally announce a mega-extension for their franchise quarterback, Phillips excuses himself from the crowd and heads downstairs toward check-in, where one journalist is angrily waiting after being refused entrance. “It’s okay,” Phillips says to the security guards. “Escort him around back. I’ll meet you there.” Javad purses his lips but agrees, and he paces around the building, finding Phillips waiting for him in a shaded area next to the practice field, away from all the cameras and other reporters waiting for the press conference. “What the fuck, Chance?” Javad says. “You string me along for a Rose interview only to cut him out of nowhere. Then you don’t even give me the scoop on the Maverick contract?” “Things happened fast, Adam. That’s all I can say.” Phillips holds firm. Javad may have the upper hand in this debate, but he’s just a reporter, and Phillips is an NFL GM. He has all the power. “I was relying on that Rose interview. That was my ticket, do you understand?” “Then deal with it. Act professional.” “You’re telling me to act professional? What about agreements? What about helping each other out? You owe me a big story!” “I don’t owe you a thing.” Javad steps back and eases his posture, as if every hope he was clinging to has suddenly vanished. “You don’t like it, find a new career field. I’m sorry things turned out this way, Adam, I really am, but—” “You were gonna trade him, weren’t you?” Phillips feels his face get warm. He tries to breathe normally. “Who?” “Rose! You were gonna trade him. That’s why you kept deflecting me on the interview, isn’t it?” “No comment. I have to get ready for the conference. You ever feel like calming down, send me a text.” Phillips walks back toward the building. “I bet you were. I bet I can find out.” “Be my guest,” Phillips says as the glass doors shut behind him. He breathes slowly, his heart racing, trying to brush off that conversation. When he finally gets back to his office, he finds it crowded but silent. He looks around, waiting for an explanation. “Where’d you go?” Stein asks. “Needed some fresh air,” Phillips says. “What’s up?” “He doesn’t know,” Stein says to everyone. Phillips looks puzzled, and Schneider steps forward slowly. “Malik Rose,” he says. “San Diego Chargers, on a three-year deal. Hit the wire a few minutes ago; it’ll be made official this afternoon.” Phillips falls back into his chair and rubs his temples. “Can we ever release someone and have them land somewhere other than San Diego?” “Well,” Keegan says, “Jared Veldheer went to Arizona, Sebastian Janikowski went—” “Shut up, Michal,” Stein says. Phillips doesn’t like that sharp comment, but he’s far too stressed to deal with it right now. The calendar turns to April, and the league looks ahead to the draft, free agency all but over. The Knights own the 32nd overall pick, and last year’s wheeling and dealing stripped them of their second- and fourth-round picks. Compensatory picks help ease that loss, awarding the Knights a fourth- and sixth-rounder (for Jared Veldheer and Jerome Jaxson). That gives the team seven selections, and they plan to add at least one more. The trade market for Max Buchanan heats up. Buchanan’s stats during his fourteen-game stretch aren’t extraordinary, but in a league all about wins, the 10-4 record stands out. Yes, the Knights leaned on a strong run game and elite defense, but Buchanan had games where he was comfortable, in command of the offense, and avoided big mistakes. Limited potential is a concern (Buchanan was a sixth-round pick for a reason), but for teams in search of a franchise quarterback without a top draft pick this year, the 24-year-old is a viable option at the right price. Negotiations with the Bills, Jets, and Browns escalate into the third round. Phillips suspects no one will go higher than that and doesn’t want the market to cool, so he pounces. Buchanan is traded to the Bills for a third-round pick, 81st overall. The Knights are content with Kellen Clemens as a veteran backup and plan to draft a developmental project in the late rounds. Their target for the first round is, undoubtedly, a cornerback. Phillips hates narrowing draft targets down to one position, but he doesn’t have a choice. Even if Harden is right about Ken Lucas being good enough to start, the Knights need someone across from him. So the Knights seem poised to draft the best corner available at #32, barring a trade up. A few days later, the NFL announces a six-game suspension for Malik Rose, and Rose, surprisingly, says he will not appeal. The Chargers, it seems, are bent on rebuilding Rose’s image, as the Knights were. More significant news breaks when the Carolina Panthers announce an extension for Luke Kuechly, a five-year, $61.8-million deal. The benchmark set, Phillips gets in touch with Randall’s agent, though not with the aggression he had with Maverick. He’s not paying Randall $12.4 million per year, so Kuechly’s deal will not be surpassed. While recounting the one time he brought up the idea of letting Randall go (“Don’t you fucking dare,” Harden said.), he exchanges numbers with Randall’s agent, searching for another way. With the draft a few weeks away, players return to the MedComm Center for voluntary conditioning sessions, the first official phase of the offseason program. Players barely see the field, only allowed to work with strength/conditioning coaches, spending most of their time in the workout room. The only absent starter is Wilkes, whose agent has already communicated his client’s intention to sit out training camp without a new contract. Randall causes a mild surprise with his presence, a gesture his teammates and coaches respect. As he goes through workouts, however, the comments about his contract pile up, nagging him more than they should. He thinks about how much his signing bonus could be, about the three-story house in Brentwood Heights he has picked out, about spending his entire career in Los Angeles. Randall has always prided himself on focus, on and off the field. When he has days like this, he knows something has to change. At day’s end, he calls his agent from the parking lot. “Good afternoon, Briggs,” the agent says, picking up immediately. “No progress today.” “We need to make something happen,” Randall says. “Now, Briggs, I told you—” “You told me we would wait for Kuechly’s contract, and it happened. No more delays. I want a deal by the end of the week. Take a discount if you have to.” “Briggs, this is not—” “Something’s up with the defense. I can’t explain it. It’s like everyone’s wondering what’s gonna happen with Rose gone. This needs to get done, and it needs to get done fast.” Randall hangs up and drives home, planning to watch some college tape on potential cornerbacks the Knights could soon add to the roster. Three days later, weeks after announcing a long-term agreement with their franchise quarterback, the Knights do the same with their defensive captain. The six-year, $63.8-million deal is effective immediately, eliminating the fifth-year option Randall was set to play under this season. Technically, it comes with $31.28 million guaranteed ($21-million signing bonus plus 2015 and 2016 salary), but Phillips adds language that guarantees the 2017 salary on the third day of the league year. In agent speak, this is good enough to count as “guaranteed money,” and so the media reports Randall’s contract as worth $37.9 million in guarantees. Randall gets a higher overall contract and more “guaranteed” money than Kuechly, exactly what his agent wanted, and Phillips gets a deal with a lower average salary than Kuechly, exactly what he wanted. Randall doesn’t bother going home after workouts, simply heading upstairs to sign the contract on his way out for the day, and Briggs Randall is a Knight through 2020. A week before draft night, the sports world fixates its attention on the NFL for its annual schedule release. About an hour before it goes public officially, the Knights get their schedule and analyze it in Phillips’ office. “Knew they’d give us New England week one,” Schneider says, referring to the league’s kickoff game. “Pretty balanced,” Phillips says. “No three-week road stands, and we have three home games in a row in November.” “Three out of the last four away, though,” Stein says. “Oh! Week six, at San Diego. That’s the last game of Rose’s suspension, so we won’t see him until…week fifteen.” Everyone nods, in agreement that this is to the Knights’ benefit. “Hang on, that game’s not in San Diego; it’s in London.” “Stadium situation,” Schneider says grimly. Phillips recognizes his concern and is suddenly keen to change the subject, not wanting Schneider to rehash how difficult it was to get the Chargers and Rams off the idea of sharing Farmers Field, forcing them into stadium proposals of their own. “Five primetime games,” Phillips points out. They spend the next hour or so dissecting the schedule, each offering his own twist on predictions. They plan to finish the night by exercising Chase Grodd’s fifth-year option for 2016, but dialogue with Grodd’s agent escalates into groundwork for an extension. The two sides work unexpectedly past midnight, a deal nearly complete before everyone agrees to get some sleep. In the morning, they put the finishing touches on a five-year, $38-million contract, a victory for the Knights. With Brian Penner aging and Kevin Zeitler a possible departure next year, they now have their best offensive lineman (arguably) locked up. With Grodd plus both offensive tackles, the Knights have three offensive line positions under contract for the next three years. Grodd and his agent arrive at the MedComm Center a few hours later. The league’s most actively spending team scores another signature, and Chase Grodd is a Knight through 2020. The war room in Los Angeles tracks every pick of the 2015 NFL Draft, monitoring the top cornerback prospects and hoping one of them falls to tonight’s final pick. Trae Waynes is first to go, to Minnesota at eleven. Then Kevin Johnson to Houston at sixteen. Then Marcus Peters to Kansas City at eighteen. Phillips holds his breath at every pick in the twenties, only one first-round corner left on the board, in his eyes. He would normally consider a trade up in this spot, but he wants desperately to avoid one. He knows from his comprehensive study of the draft that the most successful teams prosper through quantity. He went against his philosophy last year; he won’t do it twice. Besides, the Knights roster needs depth. With Dallas on the clock at twenty-seven, the pick comes in from across the room. “Byron Jones.” Phillips slams his fist against the table. Even Harden lets out a deflating sigh, sad to miss out on the young man from Connecticut he deeply coveted. There’s still one of his targets on the board, though. A few picks later, the Packers make the penultimate selection of the evening, and the Knights are on the clock. “My gut says trade down here,” Phillips says. “We can probably drum up some interest.” “No need,” Harden says. “Our guy’s on the board, and he fits. I don’t give a damn what grade he has.” Harden scowls at the defensive scouts who have assigned a second-round grade to the player he refers to. This will be the last battle with Merle Harden for many of these scouts, heading to other teams after this weekend. Phillips doesn’t like any part of this situation, but he sees a firm look from Schneider, who doesn’t need to verbalize his opinion: Do what he says. We need a cornerback. Phillips relents, defeated but frustrated. Did he successfully refute a power play from Harden for nothing? Minutes pass with no trade offers, the Knights relay the pick to Chicago, and Commissioner Goodell announces, “With the thirty-second pick in the 2015 NFL Draft, the Super Bowl champion Los Angeles Knights select Julian Stone, cornerback, West Virginia.” The Chicago crowd reacts with the awkward silence of a reach. Stone is known as a second- or third-rounder by the majority of the draft community, and he’s undoubtedly a raw prospect. Harden concedes this but praises Stone for his physicality, already more polished in press coverage than some NFL corners. As Harden puts it, “He might get beat on little ins and outs by quicker guys, but you won’t beat him deep for long touchdowns.” Though happy to get a young cornerback, Knights fans agree with those who call the pick a reach. Many criticize Phillips for not trading ahead of Dallas to get Byron Jones. The war room reassembles for rounds two and three, though the Knights have to wait a while for another pick. Phillips feels relaxed, free to draft the best player available though he still considers the cornerback position a work in progress. In the third round, the Knights add depth to the trenches, drafting Mark Tarbell, defensive end from Maryland, and Adrian Dunn, offensive guard from Clemson. Phillips loves that Tarbell has experience playing the five-technique in the 3-4 defense and considers him the favorite to start, though Harden stubbornly insists Reid is his starter and complains of another wasted pick. Dunn has experience playing all five line positions and is an all-around backup with the long-term potential to start at guard or center. In the fourth round, Phillips and Harden finally find themselves in agreement when the Knights draft Stephen Ledger, cornerback from Florida who operated almost exclusively out of the slot. The Knights plan to insert him there immediately. With their final four picks, the Knights simply draft the best player available: Curtis Brown, outside linebacker from Baylor; Glenn Wheeler, offensive tackle from Oregon; Andrew Arcana, tight end from Boise State; and Brian Roosevelt, quarterback from Colorado. Javad stays up late, well into Sunday morning, typing up articles on the laptop he needs to replace, stuck in the apartment with the recently renewed lease. Though he alternates between his Knights draft recap and Clippers conference semifinal preview, his mind is elsewhere. He replays the conversation with Phillips in his head, remembering the look on Phillips’ face when Javad said the word “trade.” Maybe it was concerned, maybe worried, maybe anxious. It was subtle, but it was there. He may no longer have Phillips as an ally, but Javad has plenty of other sources now. He’s not going to disappear. Since he’s still stuck at the Mobile, he’s going to make Phillips regret screwing him, and that starts with investigating. Javad isn’t certain a Rose trade was in the works, but he has ways of digging. There’s definitely something Phillips kept from him, and he won’t stop until he finds it. By late June, mini-camps are in full swing around the league. The Knights, for maybe the first time, enjoy a year with plenty of continuity. Harden’s playbook for 2015 is nearly identical to last year’s, though he experiments in the secondary with his new pair of corners, moving them all over the field before deciding to restrict them for simplicity: Stone will play the left side, Lucas the right. On the offensive side, Maverick enjoys having the same offensive coordinator for the second consecutive year, and the same ten starters around him—except for his number one receiver, with D-Jam continuing his holdout. Teammates convey no anger about the situation publicly, making generic comments about the business nature of football and hoping a deal gets done soon. July 15 marks the deadline for players under the franchise tag to sign new contracts. This spurs action for two marquee receivers outside of Los Angeles. Dez Bryant and Demaryius Thomas sign five-year, $70-million contracts within minutes of each other, firmly setting the blueprint for Wilkes. Phillips spends the next few hours in his office, playing phone games with Drew Rosenhaus, the most notorious agent in football, in an attempt to sign what will be the Knights’ second largest contract of the offseason. Rosenhaus is immune to the wining and dining Phillips used with Maverick’s agent, but Phillips still knows his game—and how to play it. With Wilkes heading into the final year of an incentive-laced contract, there’s plenty to haggle over. Phillips’ first offer is a replica of the 5/70 deals Bryant and Thomas received. Wilkes shares the same off-the-field concerns as Bryant, so Phillips sees that as fair. Shockingly, Rosenhaus does not. He counters with 6/96, which Phillips laughs at and hangs up. Three days later, Rosenhaus calls back. Before he can state terms, Phillips insists on a five-year deal, then hangs up. Two days later, Phillips calls. After hours of exchanging rhetoric, Rosenhaus finally comes up with a figure: 5/80. Phillips suggests they meet in the middle at 5/75. The meeting in the middle process takes five days, with Rosenhaus negotiating every detail of the contract, made slightly more complicated because Phillips is spreading out the money over six years, this season included. This is a well-known tactic around the league, but every intricacy must go through Rosenhaus. Phillips keeps him happy by constructing a money structure that gives Wilkes more guaranteed money than Bryant and Thomas. More significantly, this will be the second richest contract for a wide receiver in football, behind only Calvin Johnson. The contract is agreed to and reported by the media two days before training camp opens in Valencia. It is reported as a five-year, $75-million deal, though Wilkes’ cap hit over the next five years will average $12.8 million before a spike to $18.6 million in the contract’s final year, Wilkes’ age-32 season. Wilkes steps foot in the MedComm Center for the first time since February, and Da’Jamiroquai Jefferspin-Wilkes is a Knight through 2020. Training camp begins across the league, and football returns to television in the form of preseason action. The countdown is on to Super Bowl 50. The Knights are considered among favorites to win it all this year, with pundits pointing to a majority of returning players, despite the loss of Malik Rose. One analyst writes, “If there’s one organization that can withstand the loss of their best defensive player, it’s Merle Harden and the Knights.” Concerns about Rose’s absence are further alleviated by the preseason, in which the starting corner duo of Julian Stone and Ken Lucas plays surprisingly well. They are aided by a productive front seven, leading the NFL in sacks throughout the preseason, an accomplishment Coach Harden calls “meaningless.” The Knights escape the preseason without any injuries to starting players, and Las Vegas has them at 5-1 to win Super Bowl 50, the best odds in the league. 8 Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Cherry 1,302 Posted August 13, 2016 Briggs is ready to go to work boy Time for him to become Ray Lewis levels of inspirational. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
RazorStar 4,025 Posted August 13, 2016 WE GOTTA GET PISSED OFF FOR GREATNESS! Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Vin+ 3,121 Posted August 13, 2016 New contracts for everyone! Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
ATL_Predator+ 1,196 Posted August 13, 2016 TL;DR Especially now that I have been released. 1 Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
theMileHighGuy 656 Posted August 18, 2016 DT and Dez can suck it. Great build-up episode. You have a good way of making the more boring parts of football interesting. Kudos on the research and book-keeping you must be doing to keep all the numbers straight. Kind of can't wait till Javad figures out the Maverick trade and the locker room explodes. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Zack_of_Steel+ 3,014 Posted January 13, 2017 (edited) -I hope Sean was being disingenuous when he said this: A TMZ Sports reporter spots Sean Brock on Hollywood Boulevard with his girlfriend, Scarlett Lynn Smith. Brock says, “It’s a surprise to just let go of a guy that good, but it’s pretty messed up, what he did. I’d like to think if I punched out a random fan I’d be in serious trouble too.” I feel like he'd be more in line with Jeff Van Gundy when Westbrook got flipped off by a fan: Van Gundy: I always like the bravery of fans, when they know they can’t be—like, you should be able to go up into the stands and just whack that guy. Mike Breen: No, no, no, no, no Van Gundy: Yes, you should. That guy flips him off like that? He’s all brave. Breen: Well he should be thrown out. *Pause to talk about basketball* Van Gundy: I can’t believe you don’t think he deserves to be able to go in there and smack him. Breen: No, that would start a riot. -Merle coming home to his dog was on point. Such a great line. -Phillips has gained Schnieder's ruthlessness. Yikes. -I bet Adam finds out while looking for Rose trades that Chance almost traded Mav and that's his big break and a big "fuck you" to Chance that causes a rift in the team. -The draft came out of nowhere, ha. All our picks are original characters? -Stone on the left is brialliant work by Harden. "He doesn't get beat deep, but he might get beat on little ins" --That's where Grantzinger comes in. -Surprised to see us keep D-Jam over Rose long-term. -Excited for the season. Edited January 13, 2017 by Zack_of_Steel Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
seanbrock 1,684 Posted January 13, 2017 Yeah I agree with Zach. Brock being the biggest degenerate on the team wouldn't go with a PC company comment but everything else has been great. It would have been very interesting to see Daniel and Rose sharing LA with the Knights I must say. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
SteVo+ 3,702 Posted January 13, 2017 (edited) -The draft came out of nowhere, ha. All our picks are original characters? Yes. None of them are TGP-inspired, but they are original. It would have been very interesting to see Daniel and Rose sharing LA with the Knights I must say. In case Zack hasn't finished Part V I'll leave this in spoiler tags... Who says the Chargers moving to L.A. isn't about to happen in the KoAverse? Edited January 13, 2017 by SteVo Share this post Link to post Share on other sites