The Interception
Mark was loaded onto a stretcher.
But the fire in his eyes hadn't dimmed one bit.
If anything, it was the teammates looking down at him who couldn't seem to hold still.
"Tony."
Mark called for the backup quarterback.
Tony Garcia — the guy whose fragile nerves had kept him buried on the second string his entire career.
We'd run quite a few drills together in practice, but could he actually hold his own in a real game?
"Uh—yeah. You called, Mark?"
"You're the commander now."
Mark said it flatly, and Tony flinched.
"We're 5-and-0 this season. We're gunning for the league title, Wichita."
Tony swallowed hard.
"I'm not telling you to be nervous. I'm telling you to get your head straight."
With that, Mark glanced around until he found me, then gestured my way.
"Handle that guy right, and there's no way this team loses. Got it, Tony?"
"Huh?"
"I'll say it again. You're the commander of this team now. And I believe in you."
"M-Mark..."
Sweat poured down Tony's face, but Mark Hamilton spoke with perfect composure.
Then — a grin. A smile none of us had ever seen from him before, as he clapped Tony on the shoulder.
"The team's in your hands. Win it. No matter what."
"You got it! I'll give it everything I have!"
"And Kim Jaehyuk!"
Despite Mark calling my name, I just stood there staring blankly at him.
His smile deepened, and then he burst out laughing.
"Thanks to you, I can leave with peace of mind. Take care of Tony for me."
"If you're hurt, go to the hospital. Don't hold up the game."
"Haha! Fair enough. I'm off, then."
The whole team saw Mark off in solemn silence as he was carried away.
Coach Tyrone followed after him, and the game resumed shortly after.
The silver lining was that thanks to the touchdown I'd just scored, possession was about to switch. That bought some time for Tony, who still looked like his soul had left his body.
"Play it like practice. Don't think of it as a real game."
Sanders told Tony.
Even so, the kid's leg wouldn't stop jittering under him.
"I'll handle the general calls, so you've got nothing to worry about. All you need to do is make good decisions in the moment."
"Y-yes, sir!"
Yeah, this guy is a wreck.
So I smacked him on the back of the head.
Thwack!
"Aagh!"
"If you're nervous, just hand the ball off to me. And the defense is all keyed in on me right now, so the pressure won't be half as bad as you're imagining. If you can't take it, just dump it to me like I said."
"B-but what if I mess up? What if throwing it to you is the wrong call?"
"Did you start playing football so you could sit on the bench?"
"What?"
I grabbed the stunned Tony by the head and looked him dead in the eye.
"You're the starter now. This is the moment every quarterback dreams of. If it were me, I'd pour everything out onto this field, put up numbers, and take that job for good."
"H-how could I ever measure up to Mark, though..."
"So you'd rather be Mark's backup your whole life? You pathetic kid."
At my words, a few of the other teammates nodded along in agreement.
Harsh, but that's sports for you.
Especially football, where injuries are part of the game.
At the end of the day, the world remembers starters, not backups. That's exactly why everyone busted their asses in practice, sweating blood for good numbers.
Thud, thud, thud!
The game marched on.
Derby had driven the ball a good distance down the field.
Mark's injury had clearly taken a bite out of the team's overall morale.
"Either way, there's nowhere left for you to hide. Show what you've got, or give up. Plenty of people can throw a football."
It wasn't that we had more quarterbacks on the roster.
But among football players, it was rarer to find someone who'd never thrown a ball than someone who had.
You could stick any benchwarmer in at QB and get by on nothing but short passes and run plays all game long.
When I finished, everyone watched Tony in silence. My wording had been a bit harsh, but nobody contradicted me.
Even the head coach and the coaching staff just stood there, saying nothing.
"Touchdown!"
Then came the scoring announcement.
Derby's, of course.
"Tch."
"What's wrong with the D-line's heads?"
"We just have to outscore them, that's all."
The offensive players clicked their tongues as they stared out at the field.
The score now stood at 14–10. One touchdown was all it took to flip the game.
And the clock — somewhere along the way, we'd reached the end of the second quarter.
Right after the extra point kick, halftime arrived.
"..."
"..."
We were winning, yet the mood was funeral-dark.
Emotional high schoolers, I suppose — swept away far too easily.
Me? I was perfectly fine.
All I needed was to win.
If anything, it was those kids I couldn't understand.
If we lost like this, do you really think the injured Mark would be pleased?
"Everyone, gather up."
Sanders called the players in.
"Get your heads on straight. You think injuries are some once-in-a-lifetime thing?"
And then came the fastballs, straight to the face.
"Someone gets hurt, so what, you hold a memorial? The whole team's supposed to cry and hand the opponent the game out of sympathy? You spineless idiots!"
Ahh, now THAT'S what I'm talking about.
NFL veterans really do hit different!
"We are WINNING. And winning in the most badass way possible! Any of you actually expect we'd put up numbers like this this season?"
Every head shook at Sanders's question.
And as the point sank in, strength started creeping back into their eyes.
"Our opponent is Derby. The championship favorite, no less. And you're stuffed to the gills facing THEM? Mark's down and we've lost manpower — so what do you think happens if the rest of you start playing like morons too? Is Derby supposed to laugh at us?!"
"No, sir!"
"N-no, sir!"
Someone roared it out first.
Then the rest of the players answered in a rising wave behind him.
"Straighten up. This is still high school ball, but the higher you climb, the crueler and colder this sport gets. That's what American football IS. If this happens one more time, every last one of you is off the team."
Ahh, preach, coach, preach!
When I chimed in with my endorsement, everyone turned to stare at me like, what is this guy's deal now?
What? Did I say something wrong?
"And Tony Garcia!"
"Y-yes, sir!"
"Mistakes are fine. Screw up thirty, forty times, I don't care! But the moment you do something that drags down this team's morale, you're gone on the spot!"
"Yes, sir!"
"Own your mistakes with your chest held high. That's the mindset of a quarterback — no, of every football player out there. Are we clear, everyone?"
"YES, SIR!!"
Right on cue, the referee signaled for the second half to begin.
Derby would receive the second-half kickoff. The defenders rose to their feet and began strapping on their helmets.
"Alright! Go out there and wreck them!"
"Let's GO, Wichita North!"
Chanting their battle cry, the defenders swarmed out onto the field.
And the second half began.
"RAAAGH!"
THUD!!
Sanders's pep talk had done its work — unlike the end of the first half, the team was absolutely surging with fight.
Thanks to that, they shut down Derby's opening drive without incident.
And they pinned the distance at an awkward spot, denying Derby even a field goal attempt.
"Alright, let's go!"
"Tony! Even if you mess up, we've got your back!"
The offense was flying high too.
There was surely anxiety buried under the quarterback swap, but nobody let it show.
And then—
"Hey, James."
"Yeah?"
"Don't you dare change how you play just because the QB changed. Your job is busting open my lane. Nothing else."
"Mmm. Got it."
Classic James.
If I hadn't said anything, he probably would've gone right back to babysitting the quarterback like before.
The moment we stepped onto the field, the crowd's roar crashed down over us. The game was surely being streamed online just as hard as ever, too.
"Whew."
Nothing had changed.
At the end of the day, all I had to do was run.
We lined up, and I waited for Tony's play call.
Being his first snap, Tony looked like a man with a lot on his mind.
I didn't rush him — I just waited — and finally, he spoke.
"Left jungle hatch purple stick."
A pass play.
Trying to catch them off guard, huh.
Derby would obviously be expecting a run.
Not bad.
My route happened to be a lateral one anyway — exactly what this play called for.
Which meant the ball might even come my way.
"Alright — go!"
KSHSAA Football Broadcast.
Once again, the commentary duo today was Ryan and Thomas.
"Wichita North in crisis! How will they work this offensive possession?!"
"A quarterback injury is a major development. Derby has certainly been put on notice because of it."
"And as I say that, the play is underway! The replacement quarterback is Tony Garcia, a senior making his first appearance of the regular season."
The online stream, which normally hovered around five hundred viewers, now had over four thousand people watching.
It was a natural reflection of just how much buzz Wichita North had generated.
A perpetually last-place team sitting at 5-and-0 atop the league, plus the rise of a star player named Kim Jaehyuk — the numbers spoke for themselves.
"The key question is how well the new quarterback and Redline21 mesh together."
"This game could very well see Derby come back. However brilliant a running back Redline21 is, no man can carry a team alone."
"And as I say that — Wichita's quarterback lets it fly!"
"Ooh, that's dangerously close!"
Contrary to everyone's expectations.
Derby had targeted Tony.
Derby's head coach, Steve, had twisted his thinking one layer deeper and dialed up a blitz — a play designed to hunt the quarterback — against a Tony who was still finding his feet in live game action.
And the gambit landed square. Panicked, Tony just hurled the ball forward and hoped for the best.
Whoosh—!
The ball sailed through the air... and settled with pinpoint precision into the arms of a defender.
"AHHH! That's—!"
"Steve Hopkins! Hopkins has the ball! That is a textbook interception!"
It happened in the blink of an eye.
And there was no one standing between Hopkins and the end zone.
"The situation has completely flipped! Hopkins is off to the races with the ball!"
"If he scores here, Derby takes the lead! The score is 14–10! And there's not a single Wichita North defender in sight to stop him!"
The commentary team was in an absolute frenzy over the completely unforeseen turn of events.
This was the first crisis to strike the seemingly invincible Wichita North.
Though overshadowed by Jaehyuk, Hopkins was a player with genuinely blazing speed of his own.
And so it looked like Hopkins would cruise into the end zone without a hitch.
But in that very moment—
"Huh?!"
"Someone is closing on Hopkins from behind!"
Papapapap—!
Someone was tearing up the turf alongside Hopkins at a ferocious pace.
The helmet made his face hard to see.
But the eyes flashing beneath the visor glinted like blades.
Closing the gap in an instant, the red line on his uniform left an afterimage once again.
The crowd went even more berserk at the sight.
It wasn't just the stream — the fans watching live in the stands were screaming their lungs out too.
"REDLINE21!!"
"RUN!"
"Stop him, Kim Jaehyuk! If you don't, you're never going on another blind date!!"
And at last—
Hopkins and Jaehyuk were within arm's reach of each other.