TYSON CAINE: Book 1 in the Brothers in Arms Series (Brothers in Arms Book 1) (10 page)

Our team absolutely loves pep rallies leading up to game day. They totally spark unity and team spirit. The sounds of the cheers, overwhelming support, and enthusiasm from the whole school is awesome.

We sit out on the field as a team, proudly wearing our school colors, as we watch the band and drum line marching in step as they play the school anthem. When they blast out a few lines of “Eye of the Tiger,” we cheer and clap. I’m sure that was courtesy of Tyler. The cheerleaders enthusiastically shout their chants, while flipping in the air and performing cartwheels and dance moves; their new routine also consists of a lot of butt shots.

When it comes to the school dance team, my eyes are glued to one girl. Brooklyn is in her element right now. Her body seductively grinds and moves to every beat. Her movements are precise and on point—she is by far the best in the squad, and I’m not being biased. My girl smashes it out of the park. I love the short hot pants dance teacher Miss Grey chose for the arrangement. Hot!

Coach takes the podium proudly and says his bit. He thanks the school for all of their support, the cheerleaders, families, and of course, the football team.

“Let’s go kick some ass!” he screams into the microphone. We cheer, wolf whistle, and clap loudly at his words. In classic Coach fashion, he doesn’t give a shit about who is around. He is who he is and proud of it; there’s no hiding or pussyfooting around.

****

I chill at home after the rally, then grab my cleats, towel, and sports bag, when I realize it’s only two hours before game time. I reluctantly offer to drive Tyler with me to the stadium. Actually, I contemplated driving off without him, seeing as though he has been mouthing off and is running late. The forty-five-minute walk would do him good, but Coach would kill me.

“Hurry the hell up, Tyler,” I shout as I run down the front steps to my truck.

Tommy is already there warming up; he caught a ride with his friend Hamish as the junior varsity starts an hour before us.

I climb in my faithful pickup and start the ignition, then press hard and honk my horn three times. It’s only the first game of the season, and he still can’t get his shit together.

“Jesus, you are like Hoke in
Driving Miss Daisy
. I’m comin’!” Tyler shouts through the living room window.
I chuckle at the vision
. He does make me laugh most days, but the rest of the time, he is irritating as hell.
Luckily, I overlook a lot of it because we are related.

“Finally,” I call out as he comes sprinting out half dressed, carrying his football gear and cleats. “You gotta get your shit together, dude. Coach will start sidelining you if you are late,” I state to him hopefully as a wake-up call.

“Whatever,” he replies. That’s right; I forgot his IQ is only seventy on a good day. “God, I can’t wait to smash Westfield today,” Tyler states as we drive toward the field.

“You say that about every team,” I respond. It’s the truth—he is a killing machine and wants to defeat and smash them all.

“Well, at least one of us is fired up, Tyson. Are you going to score any touchdowns this year? You know last year, you only scored two.” He’s trying to rile me up. I’m mostly a fullback so it’s my job to stop the other team, but of course, if I intercept or the other team fumbles, the field is mine to score. “Do you know how many I scored last season?” Tyler questions me, sounding cocky and almighty.

Of course, I know. He has rubbed my face in it for the last twelve fucking months. He scored thirteen touchdowns last year from twelve games.

But I won’t give him the satisfaction, so I just shrug my shoulders and tilt my head to stare at the scenery. It’s the start of fall, so the leaves are beginning to turn some pretty cool colors.

“Thirteen Tyson. That is the school record,” he declares, and if he wasn’t such an asshole, I might actually be happy for the guy.
That is a great accomplishment, and breaking the school record is awesome.

I really don’t feel like listening to Tyler talk about how good he is compared to me, so I turn the radio up. Surely, he will get the hint and shut the fuck up.
I see his head shake and his smirk from the corner of my eye.

I drive my truck into the designated parking lot and find a spot easy. In a flash, Tyler is out and jogging to the locker rooms. I take my time; the fewer minutes in a confined space with him the better. My palms feel a little sweaty as I gather my bag and keys. Well, shit, it is the first game—it sets the precedence for the whole season.

We play most of our games on Friday nights, and usually, it's eight to ten games. So far, Coach is saying eight, but it can all change. We have eleven on our team, with close to forty players who interchange.

Tonight’s positions are:

Tyler –
Quarterback
: Jersey #6

He is the leader of the team. Oh, and he loves that.

The quarterback calls the plays in the huddle, yells the signals at the line of scrimmage, and receives the ball from the center.

Jacob –
Running back
: Jersey #31

He runs with the football, running backs are also referred to as tailbacks, halfbacks, and rushers.

Me –
Fullback
: Jersey #21

I’m responsible for blocking for the running back, Jake, and also for pass-blocking to protect the quarterback. I’m a short-yardage runner.

Buzz –
Wide receiver
: Jersey #10

He uses his speed and quickness to elude defenders and catch the football.

Jay –
Center
: Jersey #50

He handles the ball on every play and snaps the ball to the quarterback.

Emmett –
Tight end
: Jersey #12

He serves as a receiver and also as a blocker. He lines up beside the offensive tackle to the right or the left of the quarterback.

John-o –
Defensive end
: Jersey #83

He needs to overcome offensive blocking and meet in the backfield.

He is responsible for forcing the ball carrier either out of bounds or toward the pursuit of their defensive teammates.

Scotty –
Line-backer
: Jersey #46

He is one of the team’s best tacklers. Also having the dual role of defending the run and the pass.

Whipper –
Cornerback
: Jersey #16

He lines up on the wide parts of the field, opposite the offensive receivers.

Cruise –
Left guard
: Jersey #62

His job is to block for and protect the quarterback and ball carriers on the left.

Muz –
Right guard
: Jersey #64

Main job is to block for and protect the quarterback and ball carriers on the right.

I casually make my way inside the locker room. The familiar array of deep heat and massage oils fills the air. The traditional song for our team, “Eye of the Tiger,” is roaring on the boom box to help us get in the pre-game zone.
It is definitely a great song to help fire us up.

I nod my head to a few of the players. It’s not a place for cheers and loudness—most of us are trying to get in the zone, focus on football and nothing else.

Following “Eye of the Tiger” is a new tune. Obviously, Tyler has been playing around on iTunes.
Seriously, my brother should have been born in the eighties.

“The Best Around” from
The Karate Kid
starts to play. Epic song. Listening to the lyrics, I start to think why can’t I be the best around? Today, more than usual, I can feel the suppressed anger building, pressure of being the golden child and stress burning inside me.

“Yo, Tys, you and Tyler have another fight?” Jake questions as he gives me a welcoming high five.

“Just the usual chip on his shoulder,” I respond as I start to dress into my pants with knee and thigh pads, then shoulder pads and my jersey.

A few teammates have traditions like wearing the same socks all season, saying a certain prayer before the game, etc. I guess I have a little tradition myself—I pop in my headphones and listen to “Bitter Sweet Symphony” before every game; it clears my mind and gets me focused.

I’m all dressed except for my helmet. Coach likes us to support the junior varsity team, so we will watch them for the first twenty minutes and then start our warm-up.

“Go Tommy,” I shout out to support my kid brother as we take seats in the bleachers. We are just in time for kickoff. The crowd is awesome, hundreds of students, fans, and parents line the stadium seats; roaring cheers fill my ears, flags wave back and forth, and the delicious smell of the concession stand fills my nose.

I spot Brooklyn—I would notice her anywhere. My pulse increases as she smiles at me and waves sweetly.
Ever since the carnival, I have been pinching myself.

Tommy is the running back—he works in conjunction with Simmo, the quarterback, for the juniors. The first five minutes is slow, and then the center throws a magical ball straight to Tommy. Their defense is doing a great job blocking the opposition. Tommy sprints to the touchdown line and slams the ball down. Touchdown!

“That’s my boy, Tommy!” Tyler shouts out, causing me to roll my eyes in annoyance.
I guess I don’t want Tyler to influence him too much, not in a negative way anyway.

“Woo-hoo Thomas,” I call out waving to my little bro. If I have my way, he will make it to the big time. He looks our way and gives us a thumb-up, looking very proud of himself.

The juniors score one more touchdown bringing the score to 12 - 0. When they break for the first quarter, twelve minutes into the game, Coach signals us.

“Okay, guys, let’s go warm up those muscles.” Coach sends us back inside to get ready for our game.

Our mascot, Wilbur the Wildcat, is on the sideline doing his bit. I try not to notice, but he gets all in your face, and the kids love him. Brooklyn heads over to me. “Good luck, Ty,” she tells me smiling widely.

I wrap my hands around her waist and pull her to me, then kiss her delicious lips. Slowly at first and then as our tongues touch and entwine, the passion increases like it always does. Realizing where we are, I pull back smiling. Who needs luck when I have her kiss lingering on my lips? One last peck and I make my way to the warm-up rooms.

Walking back inside the locker rooms, the guys cheer and wolf whistle at me. Guess I forgot who might be watching when I kissed Brooklyn. I shrug it off and chuckle. Nothing is going to break my stride.
I’m in love.

I take my time stretching each muscle extending and bend my knees, then Jacob and I pair up and take turns tackling the other and throwing passes.

“Okay, boys, drills are set up. Let’s go,” Coach announces, so we line up and get to it. Feeling warm, a touch sweaty, and out of breath is just what we need. “It’s the first game of the season, and for some of you guys, it’s your last year. So let’s make this one count; you are tough. Strong. Brave. Let’s go out there and show Westfield how we kick ass,” Coach says during his pep talk.

We all put on our helmets and jog in our lines out onto the field. The crowd roars, I hear ‘I love you, Tyler’ from a few random girls.
God, they are unbelievable.

There are only a few minutes before the start of the game, so the team captains meet with the referee for the coin toss. The visiting team is Westfield, so they call the toss.

“Heads,” shouts Leroy Black, the captain, as the referee flicks the coin; it lands on the ground tails up.

“We will take the first kickoff,” Tyler announces knowing that is what Coach tells us.

“We choose the top end for defense,” Leroy declares knowing he gets the second option.

It’s kick-off time.

Jay is the first one to touch the ball. Being our center, he runs and offloads to Tyler, who darts and weaves through a few players before their defense smash into him hard. I see his body shake and hit the grass full-throttle from the force of the tackle.

Their fullback climbs off Tyler enabling him to stand up, still a little shaken. He shakes off the pain from the intense blow. Thank God for the helmets or there would be more head injuries than there already are.

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