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MATEO
The Buffalo Titans are coming off a winning season with star quarterback Mateo Boone becoming the youngest to win The Legacy Championship. With the new season set to start, does the team have what it takes to win back-to-back championships? Time will tell if Mateo Boone is up for the challenge again!
“Good job, boys. Hit the showers and be back here at six a.m. sharp for practice.” Coach's voice echoed across the open field.
The amount of groans that filled the air was almost comical. For a bunch of professional athletes, we sure were whiney bitches.
With my hands on my hips, I paced in the grass, trying to slow my breathing down. Sweat ran down my nose and back, soaking my T-shirt and making the fabric stick uncomfortably to my skin.
“Boone, a second,” Coach Reggie called from the sidelines. Clapping a few guys on the back as I passed, I made my way toward him.
Coach Reggie James was one of the most intimidatingmen I’d ever met. And trust me, I’d met a lot. He was a beast of a guy for being in his early fifties, standing at six two with a truck-like build. He was one of the younger coaches in the league.
“Yeah, Coach?”
“You’re looking good out there. How’s the arm?”
“It feels good. Ready for the season to start.”
The new season was just around the corner, which was a little crazy since last season only ended a few months ago. The team was coming off a high of winning The Legacy Championship, the biggest game any professional football team could win. Most of us were eager to get back out there.
“Good. Make sure you see the physical therapist after every practice,” he instructed. It was more of a demand than a request. Coach was big on all of us players taking physical therapy so we were in top shape to play. It’s because of that our team had the least amount of injuries last year.
“Got it, Coach.”
“Go over the playbook tonight and come back tomorrow ready to try a few.” With a nod, Coach Reggie turned on his heel and stalked off. A man of few words.
“Ohh, trouble with the coach already,” a familiar voice teased from behind me. I rolled my eyes as Jake Henderson came up to my side, his dark brown skin had a light sheen of sweat to it and his braided hair didn’t have a single strand out of place, despite spending the last four hours running drills.
I shoved him to the side. “We both know I'm the coach's favorite.”
“Yeah, right. Just because you're a quarterback doesn’t make you the favorite.” He scoffed as the two of us crossed the grass toward the practice building.
“Everyone loves me.” I shrugged. “Burgus! Do you love me?!” I yelled to the big man walking in front of me. Theman was my center—the guy who hiked me the ball—so the two of us spent a lot of time together during practices.
“Uh…”
“See—loves me.”
“Uh huh.”
“You’re just jealous of my wit and humor,” I shot back.
“So jealous,” a new voice piped up from behind us. Coming into view was our tight end and my other best friend, Perry Withers. His shoulder-length blond hair was pulled back into a bun, his face flushed.
None of us wore shoulder pads or guards—thank god—or we’d be even more sweaty. Even though practice started early, the blaring summer sun was relentless today. Every player around us was soaked with sweat, dumping water on their heads to cool off.
“I knew it. You guys have been jealous this whole time.”
“Cocky bastard.” Perry shoved my arm, making me grin.
“Sorry you guys can’t be as cool as me,” I teased.
“I think you’re getting a bigger ego every season.”
“Comes with winning.” I shrugged as the three of us walked through the double doors into the team’s locker room. I wasn’t necessarily cocky, but winning the biggest game of any football player's career came with a bit of an ego boost.
