Knights of Andreas 5.04: Light the Road

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Knights of Andreas

Part V

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Chapter Fifty-Nine – Light the Road

 

 

 

The clock hits zero, and the field becomes a platform for handshakes with a quiet stadium around it. About half of the Cleveland crowd has stuck around to watch the Knights throttle the Browns, 34-16, and they readily boo the winning team on their way to the locker room.

 

Knights players ride the satisfaction of the season’s first decisive victory, briskly changing out of pads and warmly welcoming reporters as they circle the room for interviews, cameramen in tow.

 

Maverick, of course, draws a large crowd and is thrilled to discuss details of a game in which he threw for 357 yards and four touchdowns (and one interception). On this particular day, however, he’s feeling more benevolent than usual.

 

“You know, I have to give it to the guys around me,” Maverick says. “I got great protection all day, and guys were getting open. When those two things happen, my job becomes pretty easy.”

 

“What happened on the interception, Mav, just before halftime?”

 

“Well, hey, it was, what…17-0 by that time? We didn’t want to be too rough on them.”

 

Maverick’s receivers attract plenty of attention for their stat lines, including Watson, who caught his first touchdown of the season today.

 

“Coach McKenzie picked a good time for a deep shot,” Watson says. “I just slid in between the safeties and Mav threw a great pass.”

 

“Joe, the series right after that, it looks like you guys tried a similar play and you got open but couldn’t make the catch. What happened there? Did you lose it in the sun?”

 

“No, I had it.”

 

The reporters stand idly and wait, slowly realizing Watson isn’t adding anything else.

 

“But you dropped it.”

 

“I mean, yeah. But, it wasn’t—I was tracking it and, um…Yeah. I just dropped it, yeah.”

 

A scant batch of reporters stand near the offensive linemen, with Penner, as always, drawing the biggest group of microphones.

 

“Brian, what happened on that fumble where there was a big pile-up? It looked like you were favoring your shoulder or neck or something.”

 

“I’m fine,” Penner says. “It’ll be a little sore in the morning, I’m sure, but I’m good to go.”

 

A commotion gathers everyone’s attention as Wilkes jogs over to Maverick, still answering questions, and throws his arms around him.

 

“We got the real Johnny Football, baby! This the real Johnny Football!”

 

Cameramen zoom in on the moment while teammates look on, some perplexed, some disgusted.

 

“The quarterback-receiver bromance has begun,” Martin says.

 

“God help us all,” Grantzinger says.

 

 

 

The team’s relatively straightforward win leads to a quick and pleasant Monday at the MedComm Center. Coaches find few weaknesses to analyze on the Cleveland tape and assemble a game plan for the 0-3 Bears.

 

The day passes even faster upstairs. The Knights are in a good place after three weeks, and a huge game against the 3-0 Broncos looms, but the focus is on Chicago for now. Schneider spends most of his day on the phone, working out logistical preparations for Super Bowl 50, and Phillips ends up in his car by four thirty, the earliest he’s left in a long time.

 

He gets on the road early enough to escape the initial rush hour wave, gets bogged down as he’s leaving the city, and pulls into his driveway a little after five thirty.

 

Chance wanders through the front door and into the kitchen of an oddly quiet house. Melissa walks down the stairs, looking at her husband with wide eyes.

 

“You are home early,” she says, walking past him toward the living room.

 

“Easy day, if you can believe it,” Chance says. “Give me the rundown.”

 

“Kimmy made a new friend, Jack hates his geography class, and Max has been very busy playing video games lately.”

 

“Hates his geography class? Hates school? That’s not like Jack.”

 

“He’s really getting buried with homework. It’s an hour or two, every single night. And he doesn’t seem to care for his teacher, either.”

 

“Alright. I’ll take care of it.”

 

“Already done. I called and set up a conference for Thursday morning. Unless you can somehow take the morning off…”

 

Chance shakes his head. As much as he wants to, there doesn’t seem to be much room for him to help Jack—or do anything else, for that matter.

 

“Dinner?” he asks.

 

“The chicken has to bake, so, it should be ready by seven.”

 

Chance heads upstairs to see the kids, all of whom are busy with something, then comes back downstairs, meandering from room to room, unsure what to do for the next hour and a half.

 

 

 

Chilly, fifty-degree weather greets the Knights on their way to the Chicago hotel Saturday afternoon. Once in his assigned room, Flash unpacks as quickly and quietly as possible while Schwinn loudly settles in on the bed next to him. He tries to forget he still has at least six road trips with this team.

 

Players and coaches gather for the walkthrough, everyone full of confidence. On offense, McKenzie reminds his players of the change of pace this week; the Bears have good pass rushers but are weak up the middle, so the Knights will run to set up the pass. On defense, Alshon Jeffrey is the only player Harden mentions by name. Players get back to the hotel with temperatures cooling, and Flash finds himself in the same shitty situation.

 

“Whad’ya wanna do tonight, partner?” Schwinn asks. “The fellas are watchin’ a movie, I think.”

 

“I’m going out,” Flash says, hoping that ends the discussion.

 

“Alright, alright. Who with?”

 

“None of your business.”

 

Schwinn hesitates. He didn’t say anything wrong, did he?

 

“Hey, no offense intended. If there was a gathering, I just wanted to know who was going is all.”

 

Flash doesn’t react. Schwinn gives up on the conversation, wondering what movie the guys picked for tonight.

 

 

 

Players warm up on a crisp, sunny morning at Soldier Field. Phillips makes a rare appearance on the field, attracting the attention of a security guard after a few minutes of drifting around.

 

“I’m looking for the GM,” Phillips says.

 

He is directed across the field toward the opposite end zone. Phillips makes the long walk, greeting players and coaches along the way, eventually spotting DeMartine.

 

“Paul!”

 

DeMartine sees his old boss and separates from his crowd of colleagues. He and Phillips shake hands and embrace at the goal line.

 

“Welcome to Chicago, Chance! How the hell are you?”

 

“A little cold, honestly, but it’s a good day for football. We haven’t gotten the chance to talk in a while. How are you settling in?”

 

“I’d feel a lot better if we weren’t 0-3, that’s for sure.”

 

That’s what you get for leaving, Phillips thinks.

 

“Hell of an offseason you had,” DeMartine says. Phillips smiles and nods. “Glad I wasn’t in the room when the Rose decision came down.”

 

Came down—does he know that was all Schneider’s call?

 

“It was a tough one,” Phillips says. “But thankfully, we were able to lock down quite a few big contracts after that, so, looking back I’d say it was a good offseason.”

 

“Can’t disagree there. How are you handling Schneider?”

 

“Fine,” Phillips says instinctively, not sure what that question means.

 

The conversation continues with talk of families and weather as Phillips grows increasingly bothered. Where was this Schneider concern when DeMartine was in Los Angeles? Was that the real reason he left?

 

“I wish you could have been there to lift the Lombardi,” Phillips finally says.

 

“Me too, Chance. Me too.”

 

 

 

The Bears get the ball first, and Harden fires away with blitz after blitz, attacking Chicago’s weak offensive line and hitting Jay Cutler multiple times. This brings the punt teams out quickly. A few Jameson runs go nowhere, and the Knights are punting too.

 

Just as fans wonder if the game will somehow turn into a defensive slugfest, Cutler connects with Alshon Jeffrey on a deep post for eighteen yards, then again on an out for twenty. The home crowd cheers with the ball near the red zone, but a timely sack by Grantzinger halts the drive, and the Bears settle for a Robbie Gould field goal.

 

Harden changes nothing, but on Chicago’s next drive, Jeffrey again moves the chains with big catches. Again, though, the Knights tighten up in the red zone, and another field goal makes it 6-0. Harden seeks out his first-round rookie on the sideline.

 

“What the fuck’s going on, Julian?” Harden barks.

 

“Alshon’s so strong, coach,” Stone says, gasping for air. “I’m trying, but I need all the help I can get.”

 

Harden grumbles and walks down the bench.

 

“Flash, you’re doubling Jeffrey from now on. Shut him down.”

 

Flash nods, hoping he can use this opportunity to notch an interception or two.

 

The second quarter begins with the same score. The Knights finally find traction in the run game, with Jameson running behind excellent blocking from the interior line and breaking multiple tackles at the second level. McKenzie opens up the play-calling, but Maverick gets flushed with pass rushers, forced to scramble on almost every dropback. The drive ends just beyond McCabe’s range, and Harden angrily orders out the punt team.

 

“This ain’t the ’85 Bears, Mac,” Harden says.

 

McKenzie ignores him, focusing on his players. “Talk to me, ladies!”

 

Maverick takes a seat on the bench, knowing exactly what (or who) the problem is. Adams and Fowler are getting dominated on the outside, forcing him to step up, disrupting the rhythm of McKenzie’s calls.

 

“We gotta mix things up, coach,” Maverick says. “Some rollouts, maybe.”

 

Matt Forte puts together a couple of nice runs, reaching midfield. Harden calls an all-out blitz with Flash doubling Jeffrey. From centerfield, Flash stares down the 6’3” receiver as Stone bumps him and gets beat. Cutler lofts a pass as Flash reaches full speed with Jeffrey in his crosshairs. The ball sails out of bounds. Flash lowers his shoulders and crushes Jeffrey, whose helmet goes flying, along with a yellow flag. The crowd boos as Flash walks back to formation.

 

Harden screams into his headset as the penalty takes the Bears inside field goal range. The next play, he watches a blitz surround Cutler, who throws up a deep ball. Forte streaks down the sideline, two steps ahead of Brock, and catches the pass in stride, strolling into the end zone.

 

Gravity sets in for everyone in the stadium and watching on TV: the winless Bears are beating the Super Bowl champions 13-0.

 

Harden chews out Brock for atrocious coverage but doesn’t change his plan. Maverick retakes the field ready for some rollouts, which work. He hits Bishop and Johnson for multiple first downs, and the Knights feel momentum swinging back their way. McKenzie calls play-action, and Wilkes surges through a hole in the secondary, running deep. Maverick doesn’t miss, and the Knights finally find the end zone.

 

On their first possession of the second half, the Bears add another field goal. The Knights respond with more rollouts and max protection plays, reaching the red zone before Watson drops a would-be touchdown, and they settle for a field goal.

 

The score now 16-10, Harden finds a rhythm with his blitzes. He times them almost perfectly with passing plays, and the Knights dominate the game, reminiscent of last year’s defense.

 

A few drives later, the Knights offense gets the ball with great field position. Jameson breaks three tackles on a twenty-four-yard run, then Johnson runs a perfect post-corner route, and Maverick hits him in the hands as he crosses the goal line. McCabe’s extra point gives Los Angeles its first lead of the day.

 

The defense picks up where it left off, forcing third and nine for the Bears. Flash tracks Jeffrey on a slant and runs for an interception, but pressure flushes Cutler from the pocket before he can throw. Flash keeps running toward the offensive line, finding a hole and going for the sack. Cutler sets his feet with defenders closing and heaves it up for Jeffrey, who leaps over Stone for an acrobatic fifteen-yard catch.

 

The Bears ride the energy of the home crowd, leaning on Forte to get them in field goal range as the fourth quarter begins. Gould attempts a fifty-four-yarder, which sails low and down the middle, retaking the lead for Chicago, 19-17.

 

Maverick relaxes the offense in the huddle, reminding them how much time is left. McKenzie goes back to his initial game plan, pounding the rock with Jameson. This gets a first down and quiets the crowd.

 

Watson hears a call he likes, a complex passing play that has him running an option route, an old favorite of his at North Dakota State and another reminder how lucky he is to be playing for Coach McKenzie. He lines up in the slot and runs straight. Both safeties cover deep, so Watson cuts toward the sideline, into a soft spot in coverage. He sees the pass flying in, jumps, and it bounces off his hands.

 

The third down formation returns Watson to the sideline, where he hides on the bench. The next play is an incompletion, and McKenzie walks up to him before the rest of the offense gets there.

 

“I call those option routes that get you open so you can catch the goddamn ball, Joe, not drop it!” McKenzie says, remembering all too well Watson’s history with drops and confidence problems at North Dakota State. He doesn’t need them resurfacing now.

 

“Yessir,” Watson says.

 

The offense waits on the sideline down by two, glancing up at the game clock every other play, hoping for another chance. When Randall breaks up a would-be first down pass, they get it.

 

They take the field with 8:49 on the clock. Maverick drops back, throwing for Wilkes before taking a hit. After connecting with Bishop for another first down and getting blindsided, Penner helps him up. He steps gingerly towards the new huddle, today’s hits finally taking their toll. He looks forward to a post-game ice bath.

 

McKenzie is aware of the disruptive pass rush, but first downs are more important, and with his receivers getting open almost every play, he doesn’t change course. Johnson, in particular, has been open all game, but Maverick has thrown his way enough, so he doesn’t complain.

 

A Jameson draw from shotgun gets another first down, into field goal range, and McKenzie hears Harden say, through his headset, “Milk it, Mac.” It’s not like Harden to be a master clock controller; does he not want Chicago to get the ball back? Is his confidence in his defense shaken?

 

Whatever the case, after radioing the next call to Maverick, McKenzie adds, “Under six on the play clock from here out, Mav.”

 

Doing so gets the game clock under three minutes as the Knights face third and five from the twenty. Maverick fakes a handoff and rolls right just as Watson breaks right, again finding a soft spot. Don’t drop it, he tells himself. He slows down, approaching the sidelines, and extends his hands for the pass, which hits his jersey and bounces out of bounds.

 

McKenzie says nothing to Watson, or anyone, as the offense sulks to the bench. McCabe’s field goal splits the uprights, and the Knights take the lead, 20-19, with 2:52 left.

 

Harden has Flash double Jeffrey every play, taking no chances, and doesn’t back off blitzing, knowing how valuable sacks now are. On the Bears’ first play of the would-be game-winning drive, Luck breaks through and brings down Cutler back at the fourteen-yard line. The Bears burn their second timeout.

 

Two quick passes over the middle into tight coverage bring up fourth and three at the two-minute warning. Bears fans come to their feet, knowing this could be the end. Cutler lines up in shotgun and shouts audibles as the Knights set their defense.

 

Randall calls an audible of his own, and the secondary shifts. Flash and Schwinn switch places, moving Schwinn to Cutler’s left. Then, Jeffrey comes in motion toward that side, and Lucas shifts inside to cover the slot, leaving Schwinn on Jeffrey.

 

“Fuck me,” he says as Cutler takes the snap.

 

Schwinn backpedals as Jeffrey runs deep. Schwinn runs as fast as he can, about to be beaten when Cutler throws up a wobbly pass. Both players realize it’s underthrown and try to get under it. Schwinn has good position and gets ready to jump. Jeffrey extends his arms and shoves Schwinn, who falls to the grass. He gets to his feet in time to tackle Jeffrey near the sideline, in front of Coach Harden, who doesn’t see a flag.

 

“COME ON!” he screams to the officials, face red, shoving his hands out, indicating pass interference. “ARE YOU FUCKING BLIND? THAT’S A BLATANT PUSH!”

 

The sideline around him clamors for the same call, but they don’t get it. The Bears set up on the edge of field goal range with the clock ticking. An enraged Harden blitzes aggressively, and the Bears only manage three more yards before calling their final timeout with 0:03 on the clock.

 

“Block the fucking thing!” Harden says to the special teams group that takes the field. Gould sets his feet for a fifty-three-yard kick.

 

The high snap is corralled and placed, and Gould boots it above outstretched arms, down the field, and above the cross bar.

 

Soldier Field rocks in celebration as the Knights walk incredulously to the locker room, the final score somehow Bears 22, Knights 20. Today was not their best performance, but they fought for rightful control of the game only to have the refs take it away from them.

 

 

 

This time, when the lights, cameras, and microphones swarm the locker room, players meet them with disdain. After any loss on the road, players want to get back home as soon as possible, and these post-game interviews are an extra step between them and the airport.

 

Players answer questions in hushed tones with no propensity to elaborate or ramble. Bobby Schwinn draws the biggest crowd of reporters, all asking about the fateful play against Alshon Jeffrey. Schwinn only says, “He pushed off. It was pass interference. They didn’t call it. That’s that.”

 

A few rooms over, Coach Harden employs more colorful vocabulary in his description of the play, calling it “utter horseshit” that a flag was not thrown and branding the officials “a disgrace.”

 

Another player who unwillingly draws a crowd is Joseph Watson. The questions come like quick punches, one after another after another. Why do you think your drops are up this year? What was going through your mind? What did you say to your teammates? Watson answers slowly, taking long, extended pauses between sentences.

 

“When you see a ball coming towards you…I-I just couldn’t…I let my teammates down, I think…and…” The heat from the lights burns on his sweaty face. The microphones feel like they’re pressing against his noise. “N-No more questions,” he says, sitting down at the locker, back to the cameras.

 

 

 

Monday at the MedComm Center is a sharp reversal from last week. Bad officiating or not, the Knights are 2-2 and about to play the 4-0 Broncos on Sunday Night Football. Mercifully, the Chargers (2-2) and Chiefs (1-3) aren’t off to good starts either, but the Knights are Super Bowl champions. They should be contending for the division, not fighting for a wild card.

 

Schneider keeps Phillips busy, insisting either they sit in on coaches meetings together or Phillips sit in and report back to Schneider. Phillips almost forgets about his scheduled meeting with Keegan, who has been finalizing the team’s quarterly report since last night.

 

Last year, Phillips included Harden and DeMartine in this meeting; this year, it’s just Stein. He’s not quite ready to include Schneider on these directly, though Keegan is, in Phillips’ eyes, on his way to being in charge of the team’s analytics department. Such a department doesn’t exist yet, of course, but it soon could, depending on how useful Keegan proves.

 

The three sit down in Phillips’ office and Keegan hands thick packets of paper to Phillips and Stein (much thicker than last year). Phillips wonders how Keegan can squeeze so much information out of four weeks of football.

 

“Gentlemen, we’re off to a late start,” Phillips says. “I apologize, Michal. Things have been a little hectic today. Why don’t we cut to the chase, cover the highlights, do some independent studying, and then reconvene for more detailed discussion later in the week?”

 

“Agreed,” Stein says. “Let’s just jump right in to the list of largest concerns.”

 

Phillips almost corrects him, intending to start with positives first, but at least Stein wants to get out of here too.

 

“Okay, there’s a summary on page three,” Keegan says. “The biggest positional problem is cornerback. Julian Stone and Ken Lucas are in the bottom quartile of the league in YSPR.”

 

“YSPR?” Stein asks.

 

“Yards of Separation per Route,” Phillips says. “I’ll explain later.”

 

“Per Targeted Route,” Keegan says. “They’re both weak in coverage, allowing plenty of room for catches. And it doesn’t help that play-calling leaves them in single coverage most of the time.”

 

“You want to tell Merle?” Stein says. “Best of luck to you.”

 

“And Flash’s metrics are down too,” Keegan says in stride. “He’s still top quartile in the league, but not as good as the last two years. Whether it’s simple regression or something else—”

 

“—is a long debate we don’t have time for,” Stein says.

 

“Either way, the secondary is definitely the team’s biggest weakness.”

 

“And the front seven?” Phillips asks.

 

“Incredibly good. Similar metrics to last year. Some differences, of course, but again, it’s only four games.”

 

“What about on offense?”

 

“Same as last year, for better and worse. Offensive tackles still poor, interior line strong, though Penner’s numbers are declining. That’s expected with age, of course.”

 

“So, let me ask this: is there any weakness on the roster as close to glaring as the secondary?”

 

“No. Biggest weakness by far.”

 

“Yeah,” Stein says, “but again, good luck talking to Merle about—”

 

“We all know how Harden is about his defense, Allan,” Phillips says. “Michal, that will be all. As I said, we’ll get together later this week for more detail. For now, great work. Keep it up.”

 

 

 

The next day, Schneider has Phillips monitor practice closely, a minor nuisance. Phillips is technically supposed to observe most of practice anyway, but he desperately wants to watch some film from the first four games. Schneider, however, wants to see some sort of spark or sense of urgency.

 

Harden, however, kicks things off as if it’s a normal week. He seems more excited than stressed, looking forward to facing Denver with no mention of the Knights’ record.

 

Phillips reports to Schneider that all is well, players are being properly motivated, and he is optimistic about a victory Sunday night.

 

In fairness, McKenzie faces a greater challenge than Harden this week. After replacing John Fox with Gary Kubiak, Denver has started 4-0 thanks to its dominating defense. Coming off a game where Maverick was sacked three times and under constant duress, McKenzie must neutralize a pass rush including Von Miller and DeMarcus Ware while attacking a secondary led by Chris Harris and Aqib Talib.

 

The Knights were relatively successful in the ground game last week, so McKenzie puts plenty of runs into the playbook. He channels his creativity in the pass game, incorporating lots of play-action, screens, and misdirection. It’s the most complicated playbook of the year, and McKenzie presses the players with what little practice time he has to master it by week’s end.

 

 

 

The lights atop Farmers field shine against a cloudy evening as the crowd prepares for Sunday Night Football. NBC begins its broadcast with a montage detailing the Broncos/Knights rivalry, from which there is plenty of recent history: the Knights’ dramatic win in 2012 that put the franchise on the map, the blowout in the AFC Championship Game, Jonathan Maverick’s triumphant return from the injury report last year.

 

The Knights get the ball first, lining up against a vaunted Broncos defense. Jameson finds little running room, and when Maverick drops back, he falls under pressure, reminding him of last week’s game.

 

The Broncos fare no better on offense, with black jerseys crashing the line of scrimmage every play, rushing off-target passes from Peyton Manning and forcing a quick punt.

 

McKenzie digs into his well of creative plays, dialing up a fake reverse pass. Maverick fakes a handoff to Jameson, then sells a reverse to Wilkes. He looks up, white jerseys all around him, and fires over the middle. It bounces off Bishop’s helmet and into the arms of Danny Trevathan, setting the Broncos up in field goal range.

 

“That’s on me,” Maverick says on the sideline. “I hurried it. Stupid. Should have taken the sack.”

 

“I should have turned quicker,” Bishop says. “It’s on us both.”

 

“You shoulda handed it to me, man!” Wilkes says. “I had tons of space.”

 

Harden watches as Denver rides its run game to the red zone, where Manning finally throws a good pass to Demaryius Thomas in the end zone, and the Broncos take an early lead.

 

A few possessions later, the Broncos take over near the end of the first quarter. Harden calls an all-out blitz that forces a rushed throw from Manning towards Thomas. But the receiver and corner keep running, an apparent miscommunication, and Flash comes out of nowhere for the interception. His momentum carries him out of bounds, but the Knights take over in field goal range with the crowd back in the game.

 

Two stuffed run plays bring up third and nine. Maverick drops back, feeling pressure, but waits for Wilkes to break. He steps up and fires, taking a big hit, and Wilkes runs into the end zone, open by half a step. He spins in mid-air and one-arms the catch, landing gracefully on purple grass, celebrating one for the highlight reel. Players and fans celebrate a tie game—until McCabe’s extra point bangs off the right post.

 

The first quarter ends a few minutes later with the score 7-6, and a defensive battle takes place. While his defense rests, Harden watches in near admiration as the Broncos defense dominates. If there’s one thing, second to ambition, that propelled Harden’s climb from high school to college to pro, it’s defense. Only in the NFL are there defensive battles like this on a semi-regular basis.

 

On the other side of Denver’s defense, the Knights’ offensive struggles don’t worry Harden. McKenzie will punch through eventually. And in a game like this, if the Knights can crack 20 points, that should be enough.

 

The Broncos offense struggles too, unable to cross midfield. Though Ripka informs Harden of a coverage breakdown every other play, the Knights are spared by horrible, inaccurate passes. Harden remembers week 17 last year, where Manning looked like a shell of his former self. Tonight, he looks just as bad.

 

When players take the field for the second half, they feel a playoff atmosphere in the air. Stakes are as high as they can be for a week 5 contest.

 

The Broncos find rhythm on offense. Manning starts connecting on short, safe throws, which Harden gladly yields. This was his strategy against good quarterbacks even when he had Rose and Marshall at corner: give up the short stuff, just don’t get beat over the top.

 

The chains keep moving. The Broncos are past midfield, then into field goal range, then into the red zone. Harden has Flash double Thomas as Manning drops back and lobs it up for Emmanuel Sanders. Lucas gets turned around in coverage, and Sanders makes an easy catch, keeping his feet in bounds for the touchdown.

 

The Knights take over with a sense of uneasiness permeating the stadium. McKenzie has Maverick drop back on consecutive plays, falling victim to pressure off the edge. In the trenches, Grodd and Penner block their assignments easily but sense chaos around them. They can tell this won’t be an easy fight.

 

Denver gets the ball back and resumes their strategy, eating up large chunks of yards in the pass game, working the Knights cornerbacks underneath. They mix in runs and screens at just the right time, crossing midfield.

 

Harden considers a timeout just to yell at everyone as Manning calls audibles from under center. Defenders run around as Randall directs traffic, and Flash inches toward the box on a safety blitz. Manning takes the snap, drops back, and throws deep for Thomas, in single coverage. Stone runs with him, but Thomas outmuscles him in the end zone to come down with the touchdown pass.

 

Harden is ready to chew out everyone on defense when Ripka gets in front of him.

 

“We need some help in the secondary, coach,” Ripka says.

 

“Julian won’t get beat deep like that again.”

 

“It’s not the deep passes I’m concerned with. It’s all the underneath stuff. We need something to undercut them, some soft zones maybe.”

 

“You use the word ‘zone’ on my sideline again, I’ll shove that playbook up your colon.”

 

Maverick leads the offense onto the field down 21-6, trying to convey a sense of urgency to his teammates. It doesn’t work. Denver’s pass rush proves relentless, and the Knights go three and out. McKenzie unleashes one of his usual tirades, criticizing the offense for unacceptable effort and failure to execute before letting the positional coaches go to work.

 

“Mav,” Wilkes says, trying to catch his breath, “what’s the sense in me running deep if you can’t stand up long enough to get it to me?”

 

“Ask Coach, D-Jam.”

 

“Fuck. C’mon, man.”

 

In subsequent drives, the Knights manage a few first downs but nothing more, unable to string together enough to put points on the board. Watson has a particularly frustrating night. He wants to end his struggles with drops, but he sees no second half targets.

 

A couple minutes into the fourth quarter, the Broncos offense gets rolling again, with Manning looking more competent than he has all year.

 

From his suite, Phillips analyzes the game more carefully than the 72,000 angry fans below him, but he sees what they see: inexperienced, overmatched corners left on an island. He knows Harden only plays man coverage, but where is Flash? A different sort of blitz, maybe? There must be something.

 

If there is, the Knights don’t show it tonight. Broncos receivers get the team into the red zone, where linebackers get crossed up in coverage against a five-receiver set, leaving Andre Caldwell wide open, and it’s 28-6, Broncos.

 

On the sideline, urgency and panic give way to defeat. In the stands, anger gives way to resignation. The Knights are about to be 2-3, an uncomfortable record by any measure. Four weeks ago, fans left this stadium agitated at the Patriots loss but optimistic, aware of the long road ahead. Tonight, they leave wondering if it’s time to sound the alarm.

 

Very few Knights fans stick around to see Ronnie Hillman make it 35-6.

 

 

 

Chance closes the door gently behind him, trying not to make noise. Footsteps come running down the stairs.

 

“Dad! Dad!”

 

“Jack, it’s midnight. What are you doing up?”

 

“Want to watch a movie?”

 

“Jack, you need to go to sleep.”

 

“I slept in till two today, I’m not tired. Besides, Mom already said I could stay up and watch Mad Max with you if I wanted.”

 

“Well, if—the new one?” Chance looks between the top of the stairs and the living room. “Okay, set it up. I’ll be right back.”

 

“Everyone else is already asleep, Dad.”

 

Chance relents and stretches out on the recliner as Jack gets the movie going. Don’t fall asleep, he tells himself.

 

The movie starts so loud Jack has to turn down the sound. Chance considers asking Jack about school, but now probably isn’t the best time. The special effects look terrific, though it takes a while for Chance to figure out what’s going on.

 

Jack gets up to go to the bathroom. Should they pause it? No, he’s seen it before.

 

It’s dark. The TV is off. Chance leans forward, and the recliner snaps back into place, waking him up. He rights himself and looks around, alone in the living room.

 

Chance checks his phone, which is almost dead: 5:33. Without much time before he has to head in—and today promises to be a rough day—he considers his options. Wake the kids up, lay in bed with Melissa for a few minutes…he looks at the clock again. He doesn’t have time.

 

He puts on a pot of coffee and hops in the shower.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[RazorStar 4,025]

We lost to the Bears? Yep, that's the dagger. RIP this season. They should just move Marlon to safety with the way our guys are playing.

[Bangy 19]

Well seeing as it's the Chargers game next week. I am excited about this.

[Cherry 1,302]

Randall gonna need to start smacking some heads back in that secondary

 

Bobby Schwinn with the fuck me was amazing though.

 

TRADE FLASH TO SD. DO IT.

[theMileHighGuy 656]

What a mess. Peypey throwin TDs on us.

 

Offense needs to step up in a big way cus the defense is goin nowhere.

 

“You use the word ‘zone’ on my sideline again, I’ll shove that playbook up your colon.” that was amazing

[Thanatos 2,847]

Love it. I enjoy seeing how you write all the different characters and keep them realistic to boot.

[Zack_of_Steel+ 3,014]

Tellin' ya, drop Zack back into some zones underneath Julian...

[Barracuda 629]

Lmao Harden

 

Content with giving up short passes, minutes later wants to call timeout to yell at everybody because Manning dink and dunks them all the way to the end zone. Try yelling into a mirror asshole.