The cheerleaders have set up a banner for us to run through. I glimpse Hannah and see her standing at the end of the double line they’ve formed. She’s easy to pick out because she’s tall. The MC announces our team, Tyler chants Titans, and we all rip through the paper banner. Last year, the three of us were always at the head of the group, but this year we decided we needed to run at the end of the line. We run through the ripped banner chanting Titans and follow our teammates over to the sidelines.
After all the fanfare, everyone stands, and the marching band plays the national anthem.
The referee comes over to the coaches, telling us they’re ready for the coin toss. Jack, Ty, and I remove our helmets and walk out to the middle of the field.
“If it isn’t the famous Crawford Cross in the flesh.”
“Braxton Timms, still a cocky S.O.B., I see.” I laugh.
“Hell, yeah. I’ve got an image to uphold.” Braxton smirks.
I take a step closer to him, and the referee puts his whistle to his mouth. “How are you, bro?” I hold out my hand, and Brax shakes it, and we slap our hand’s knuckle to knuckle, then palm to palm, then pull back, snapping our fingers.
“I’m good.” Brax smiles. We both glance at the referee with the whistle in his mouth, and he lets it drop. Braxton Timms went to Lakeland Middle school with the three of us until his family moved during the eighth grade. We all went to the same Football Camp this year over spring break.
“Braxton.” Ty holds his hand out, and they do the same handshake.
And then Jack holds his hand out, and the two shake. “Damn, Fitzgerald, what’s your mama feeding you? You a big boy now.”
“Just my Wheaties.” Jack winks at Brax.
Braxton calls heads for the coin toss and its tails. “We want the ball,” I say.
“See ya around, Ford.” Braxton nods.
“Take care, Brax.”
I swing my left arm around, warming it up. I warmed up when I got to the school tonight, but I didn’t get as much time as I would’ve liked. The receiving team lines up, and Freeman starts the game with a kickoff. Jaden Collins, a junior, rushes the ball up to the thirty-five-yard line.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” T. hollers as the special teams come off the field.
“Are you ready for this Cross?” Coach Richland, the offensive coach, slaps my pads.
“I was born ready,” I say, holding out my fist, and the coach pounds it.
“Cross!” Coach Anderson yells.
“Yes, sir.” I run up to him.
“Let’s see if Freeman’s defense is as fast as they are big. I want a crimson six reverse.”
“Yes, sir.”
He smacks my helmet. “Have a great game.”
I nod, then run out onto the field and join my team’s huddle. “Coach wants to start with crimson six reverse.”
“Damn,” Rob Martin, the right tackle, says. A couple of other guys whistle.
“We’ve got this. We know this defense can block. Let’s see how well. Bring it in,” I say. All the guys put their hands in.
“Go, Titans.” We all cheer.
The line takes their place. I grab Jack and Tyler, and we huddle together. “This play is why they call us the Holy Trinity. We’ve got this.”
“Hell yes,” Ty says.
I line up behind Spencer Gains. This guy has been my center since eighth-grade grid kid. He knows how I move, and I know how he moves. Tyler lines up to my right. His primary position is wide receiver, but for this play, he’s going to run the ball. Jack lines up to my right behind the line of scrimmage in the tight end position. He’s big and fast. In this play, I hand the ball off to Tyler, and Jack blocks, helping the line make a hole for T. to run through. We usually run this play when we only need a few yards to make a first down, but coach wants to test the waters and see how the Freeman defensive line blocks.
