A Quiet Scrimmage, an Unquiet Crowd
Football fandom in the state of Alabama bordered on religious devotion. If anything, the locals were even more fanatical about college football than the NFL, and a great deal of that fervor owed itself to the existence of the Alabama Crimson Tide.
"Whew."
Which was probably why the people of Alabama had been doing nothing but sighing lately.
The Crimson Tide, for all their reputation as the winningest program in college football history, were languishing just inside the top ten. Worse, a streak of ten-win seasons they had maintained for over fifteen years had ended with back-to-back nine-win finishes. Enraged Tide fans across the state were howling for Kalen DeBoer to be fired on the spot.
"Hm? Looks like there's a scrimmage today?"
Gilbert, who ran the local sporting goods store, muttered to himself as he checked his phone. A few customers who happened to be in the shop perked up with interest.
"A scrimmage?"
"Yeah. Huh, I hadn't heard anything about that."
Practically everyone here was a Crimson Tide fan. As such, the locals knew the team's schedule inside and out.
"Must be one of those quiet, closed-door scrimmages."
"Who are they playing?"
"North Carolina Tar Heels?"
The customers began to stir with excitement at Gilbert's words, and it soon came out that his source was a University of Alabama student.
"ACC!"
"Ooh, now I want to know how it turns out."
The prevailing wisdom held that the Tar Heels were a few notches below Alabama. Their conference as a whole had never measured up to the SEC, which put everyone's minds at ease.
"Still... what if they actually lose?"
"Aw, come on! No way the Tide lose to the Tar Heels. Not happening!"
"No, think about it. Would the Tide even put their starters on the roster for something like this? It's just a scrimmage. They've probably fielded mostly second-stringers. If we somehow lose—"
It sounded plausible. The starters themselves were no cause for worry, but the backups were another story.
"Absolutely not. Losing to some ACC team is unthinkable."
"Even if the roster's all bench players, Alabama losing to North Carolina? I'd rather have dirt in my eyes."
The tension in the shop kept climbing until, one after another, the men were on their feet and heading for the door.
"Let's go right now!"
"The second they lose, I'm marching in to yank DeBoer by the collar!!"
"Closing the shop today!"
It was only a scrimmage. Even so, the die-hard fans sprinted straight toward the University of Alabama.
The field where the game was being held was one the Alabama players frequented for outdoor practice. Supposedly secret, yes—but honestly, no one could have failed to guess where it was.
"Where is it?!"
"Over here!"
"Whoa! There's a hole in the fence here!"
The fanatics, having driven all the way over, swarmed up the nearby trees and squeezed themselves through the gaps in the fence. Before long, the field lay spread out before them, and the game was already in full swing.
"Is that our defense?"
"They're looking solid!"
"What's the score? What's the score?"
Checking was the first order of business. Seeing Alabama up 7-0, they erupted in cheers.
"Hell yes! Now that's more like it!"
"That's right! There's no way Alabama loses!"
"So who's starting on offense? The backups?"
"The defense is a mix of backups and starters. Wait—only two starters out there? The Tar Heels are all starters."
"Hah, and we're still holding them off. Look at that."
"Why do the Tar Heels keep trying to run it, though? Are they testing something?"
Before long, the Tar Heel offense stalled out and lined up to punt. Having failed to pick up a first down, they were simply burning a play to boot the ball as far downfield as possible. Alabama responded with a substitution of its own—preparation for the punt return.
"The returner is..."
"Huh? Who's that returner?"
"Never seen that jersey number before. Twenty-one?"
"Oh! Twenty-one!! Isn't that the running back who signed early?!"
"Gasp! The Asian running back?!"
While everyone gaped, the players took their positions and readied for the play.
Booooom!
The punt sailed through the air in a long, graceful arc toward the Alabama formation.
"Is he gonna catch it?"
"Will he?"
Most of the onlookers assumed he might let it go on purpose. After all, simply letting a punt bounce gave Alabama possession without any fuss. Catching it might buy a few extra yards, sure, but it was a play stacked with risk. And this was a scrimmage—given the need to avoid injuries at all costs, a dangerous return was the last thing anyone expected to see...
Thwack!!
"He caught it!!!"
The substitute returner, number twenty-one. He snagged the falling ball off his back foot and immediately began slipping past the defenders converging on him from every direction.
"Oooh..."
"Whoa."
"......"
The maneuver was so reckless, so razor-thin, that the fans couldn't manage a single word—they could only bury themselves in the play unfolding on the field.
But number twenty-one wove through the coverage with quick, powerful movement, shedding defenders one measured step at a time.
Whoosh—BANG!
Every move was a feast for the eyes. And each time another defender hit the turf, a fresh jolt of dopamine went off in the crowd.
"Fuck..."
"What the..."
Cheering never even crossed their minds. They simply stood there, jaws hanging open, watching Jaehyuk's craft unfold.
Whoosh!
"HOLY SHIIIT!!"
"How is he getting past them?!"
Even the safety bearing down on him from behind met the same fate—Jaehyuk hurdled the man outright, legs clearing the tackle in full stride. A hand grazed his calf, but he shrugged it off without so much as a stutter and pulled away.
Then, riding his teammates' blocks, he cruised untouched into the end zone.
At that jaw-dropping sight, the Alabama fans were trembling from head to toe.
"H-holy... holy..."
"What did we just watch?"
"A return touchdown."
"I believed in him! I watched the early signing broadcast too! Kim Jaehyuk is our savior!"
So beside themselves with excitement, the fans forgot entirely that they had snuck in, and started hollering at the top of their lungs. Which was, of course, exactly how they got caught by the staff.
"Hey! How the hell did you people get in here?!"
"Eep! Run!"
"But I still want to watch the game!!"
"Goddammit!"
And so a miniature game of football broke out—staff chasing fans, fans dodging staff—while inside the fence, the mood on the field was every bit as electric as what the trespassers had felt.
"Damn it! What the hell was that!!"
"A return touchdown?! On the very first play?!"
"Fucking hell. I guess that's why they promised him a starting job, huh."
"Two touchdowns in a row. God, I hope he brings that same fire to the regular season..."
Jaehyuk's teammates' cheers washed over him as he jogged back. But unlike everyone else, there wasn't much joy on his face.
He simply sat down on the bench as though he'd done nothing more than take out the trash, and the players gathered around him.
"Thought he'd be all hype, but the guy can actually play, huh?"
"How is he so different from practice?"
"Hey, bro! Great stuff out there! Haha!"
Jaehyuk was mobbed from all sides. Watching the scene with a fond smile, DeBoer quickly caught himself and fixed his expression.
Nobody saw that, right?
He stole a glance toward the North Carolina Tar Heels' bench, where players sat frozen-faced and head coach Belichick was bellowing at the top of his lungs.
"Pffhaha."
The laugh escaped him before he could stop it.
Ah, if only this were a regular season game.
Just then, as luck would have it, Coach Belichick looked his way—and caught the smile on DeBoer's face.
Grin. Grin.
DeBoer turned his head away, playing innocent, at the sight of a Belichick whose fury was obvious from a hundred yards off.
Serves him right, scraping for a fight against Alabama's second-stringers like that.
The man had gone on about the gulf in level between their universities and dismissed Jaehyuk outright—and now he'd been burned twice, badly, by the very player he'd sneered at. Conceding back-to-back touchdowns wasn't just a defense getting gashed; the psychological impact was enormous. No wonder Belichick was seeing red.
"A windfall just rolled right in, huh."
Still, it was no time to let his guard down. North Carolina was a tier below the SEC's programs, and for all anyone knew, Jaehyuk was simply feasting on weaker opposition—the classic strong-against-the-weak archetype. Of course, having just watched the man move, that concern felt like little more than needless worry.
The game rolled on, and Alabama steamrolled North Carolina 35-6. Had they not pulled Jaehyuk—who accounted for two of those touchdowns—for other players, the margin would have been even uglier. But a scrimmage existed precisely to give everyone reps, so the substitution had been unavoidable.
"Great work out there, everyone."
The staff exchanged their goodbyes, and finally the two head coaches shook hands.
Crunch.
"Heh heh. Your boys certainly had some juice left over, didn't they? Couldn't quite empty the tank today?"
"......Good work, Coach."
Belichick, having come away with nothing to show for it, stalked off with a thunderous face. The Tar Heel players weren't in much better spirits—and no wonder. They'd just been crushed, decisively, by an Alabama squad made up almost entirely of backups.
And truth be told, nearly all of that was thanks to Jaehyuk. By seizing the momentum and the swagger from the opening whistle, he'd dragged the Tar Heels into a current they never escaped—they could never get their footing.
After the game, the players filed into the war room. By the time the film review wrapped up, the day's schedule was finally done. Every player who'd taken part took notes from the coaching staff—corrections to make before the regular season began. Every player, that is, except one.
"Keep doing exactly that."
A simple compliment, and that was all.
But not a single player voiced a complaint. Having seen today's game with their own eyes, none of them had grounds to say a word against Jaehyuk.
"Aaahh, so we're done?"
"I'm heading to the spa."
"Anyone up for some PlayStation?!"
The moment the meeting broke, the players scattered to their own devices. The flurry of attention Jaehyuk had drawn during the game had already died down—a scrimmage against an ACC team simply didn't warrant more.
Jaehyuk was getting up from his seat when someone tapped his shoulder.
"Hm?"
"Jaehyuk. Guess you really are just as sharp as ever."
Isaiah Horton flashed a wide grin, bright white teeth and all, his usual scowling features softened by the smile.
"Hey."
When Jaehyuk gave a casual nod, Horton asked, "What are you up to now? Busy?"
"Up to? Working out, obviously."
"What? The game just ended!"
At Horton's flustered voice, Jaehyuk actually frowned.
"I got subbed out today, remember? I ran less, so I've got energy to spare. And I feel great."
"Really? Huh, I guess that's true..."
"What about you? Got free time? Then come lift."
"W-well, sure, I guess..."
Horton had wandered over intending nothing more than a bit of idle chatter, and somehow found himself roped into a workout.
But the party didn't stop there.
"I'm in too."
Someone slid in alongside them. Jaehyuk turned—and found a familiar face.
"Who are you?"
"......"
The face was definitely familiar. But for some reason, the name wouldn't come.
It wasn't that he was prejudiced—Jaehyuk just had a hard time telling Black players apart.
"It's Marcus."
"Marcus? Blue Valley?"
"Yeah."
An unexpected reunion. Weeks had passed since the early enrollment, and yet this was the first time the two had crossed paths.
"You went to Alabama?"
"Yeah."
"Hm? You two know each other?"
Jaehyuk nodded at Horton's question.
"Then that works out great. The more the merrier."
"Hey! You all heading to work out? Can I come too?!"
Even Jayden was waving from across the room.
And beside him, Ryan shouted with a beaming face, "Wow! We're working out again?! This is getting intense! I wanna join too!"
At Ryan's gleeful cry, the players who'd been about to scatter to the four winds stopped dead in their tracks. One by one, they started glancing around, clearing their throats, dropping into light stretches.
"Ahem. My muscles are a bit stiff, actually. Might as well do a cooldown before I head out."
"Oh, I was planning to stop by the gym on my way home anyway. Wanna come with?"
The atmosphere shifted to a workout, just like that. To be fair, these were all diligent players even on a normal day—but there was an unspoken understanding that game days were for rest. With results slumping these past couple of years, that understanding had only grown stronger.
But today was the day they'd happily demolished a team from another conference. Spirits were high, morale was soaring, and everyone's conditioning felt sky-high.
"The gym's about to get wrecked today!"
"Let's go! Hard work! HARD WORK!"
And so the whole team headed off to the training facility in high spirits. A few headed straight for the indoor performance center to grind through skill work. The coaches, who'd been watching all of this unfold, scrambled to follow and put them through their paces.
"Heh heh."
DeBoer, catching the current of change sweeping through his team, trailed after them with a contented smile.
This season, he had a feeling the Alabama Crimson Tide were going to be something else entirely.