Gladiators of the Gridiron

Jackson wandered through the halls. They were quieter now that the rush had passed him by. The quiet gave him time to think, time to prepare himself. He was sure Coach Otsen wouldn’t let him waltz back onto the field without any challenge, but what would he have to do?

He’d have to find out. He marched to the practice field and over to Coach Otsen just before everything started.

Jackson stood beside Coach Otsen, not saying anything. Coach hadn’t acknowledged him yet. Jackson looked out across the field. Most players had arrived already, and of that group, most were still relaxing and using the time to chat, though some were already stretching and warming up.

Jackson needed to be out there. He thought about just walking onto the field and joining those warming up, but he stayed by Coach Otsen. After a deep breath, he cleared his throat and spoke up.

‘Coach Otsen?’

Coach Otsen turned his head, looking Jackson over briefly, then turned his gaze back to the others. ‘Ready to join us?’

‘Yes, sir. My doctor’s cleared me. I’m ready to train and I’ll be ready to help the team win this weekend.’

Coach Otsen held back a chuckle. ‘You might be ready to join the team in practice, but I’ll be the judge if you’re ready for a game.’

‘I understand, sir. I’ll do whatever it takes to prove to you that I’m ready.’

Coach Otsen looked down at Jackson again. Jackson met his gaze without flinching or hesitating. ‘Yes. I believe you will. If only it was that easy.’

‘Sir?’

Coach Otsen didn’t answer. He stepped forward and whistled sharply, bringing the team before him as the final stragglers had arrived.

‘Listen up! We’ve made it to Regionals. For the varsity team, this was inevitable. For J-V, you only managed to scrape in by the skin of your teeth. The goal is the same for both of you: win.’

As Coach Otsen addressed the team, and the players were all huddled together to listen, some of the JV members noticed that Jackson was here, not just on the sidelines to watch like he usually did, but right next to them, and without his crutches too.

‘Yo, are you training today?’ Kenny asked.

Jackson looked back and nodded, unable to keep the smile off his face.

Pete whacked him on the back. ‘Congratulations, amigo, it’s great to have you back.’

‘Welcome back … just in time for Regionals,’ Lonnie said.

Vincent sighed. ‘Does this mean we have a bench? Ohh, thank you, Jesus, now we can finally rest during the game.’

‘I-I’ll probably be the one who’s on the bench the whole time,’ Freddy said.

Jackson didn’t want to push Freddy to the bench, but … someone had to sit out if he was going to play. If anything, it meant they’d be able to play with different schemes. Now they could go with more DBs on defence if necessary, or they could use more WRs on offence.

Before Jackson could voice these thoughts, Coach Otsen cleared his throat. ‘Is there something important you all need to share?’ The coaches were all sternly staring at the little group of chatterers.

‘Sorry, sir,’ they said.

Coach Otsen softened. ‘No. I suppose it makes sense that you’re all excited. For those of you who haven’t noticed yet, we’ve got a member back. Jackson here, who missed the season with a broken leg, has recovered enough to rejoin practice.’

There was a quiet round of applause for Jackson who had to lower his head and hide his face. He never was good with being the centre of attention.

Coach Otsen continued, ‘However, I’ve yet to determine if he’s strong enough to play a full game.’

There were discontent murmurs through the JV team, though Coach Otsen pressed on.

‘Winning State has always, and will always be the goal. The opponent’s we’ll face now aren’t the kind we can beat if we half-ass things. Everyone has to be at their best if we want to win. A championship team is only as strong as their weakest member.’ Coach Otsen looked directly at Jackson. ‘If one member falls behind, we’ll all drown.’

Jackson wouldn’t let that happen, he wouldn’t drag anyone down with him … he’d drag them forward to the championship.

‘Alright, everybody, get to work.’ The teams cleared out and separated. ‘Jackson. Come with me.’

Jackson followed Coach Otsen and was led over to the rack of weighted vests, where Jackson’s was waiting for them.

Doubts crept into his mind at the sight of the vest and the memory of its heaviness from training camp, but Jackson didn’t protest. He steeled himself as Coach Otsen draped it onto his shoulders. Jackson sagged under the weight but stayed standing. His leg throbbed and his bones creaked but he stayed strong, trembling slightly.

‘Do you need me to take it off?’ Coach Otsen asked.

Jackson knew that meant admitting defeat, admitting he wasn’t ready to return. He shook his head. ‘I’m okay.’

‘Good. Get your pads then go join your team.’

Jackson tried to use the time as he was putting on his pads to get used to the vest, but he was still struggling. It wasn’t as bad as his first days of training camp, but it was pretty close. He gritted his teeth before slowly walking to the rest of the JV team.

Rudy watched. He didn’t understand why everyone else seemed so excited and happy about Jackson’s return.

Jackson approached Rudy and smiled through the strain, holding a hand out. ‘Hey, we haven’t really met yet, have we? I’m Jackson.’

‘How the hell is this guy gonna help us?’ Rudy said.

‘Hey, worry about yourself.’ Kenny stepped between the two. ‘Jackson was a leader during training camp, and even when he was injured, I bet he could’ve played better defence than you.’

‘Defence isn’t shit. Who gives a fuck. This guy couldn’t score on anyone.’

‘I could score on you,’ Jackson said.

‘What?’ Rudy leaned around Kenny, glaring at Jackson.

Lonnie grabbed Rudy’s shoulder and pulled him back. ‘Leave it … we’re on the same team.’

‘Enough chatting, ladies. Start running!’ Coach Otsen ordered. He was keeping a close eye on the JV team, and he continued to do so throughout the day’s training.

As the JV team ran their laps around the field, Jackson lagged behind, running alongside Vincent, Owen, and the other Linemen.

His leg held up, it didn’t really hurt, it was his shoulders that were hurting. He was still trying to get used to this weight again. It was heavy enough to make him feel like he was sinking, every step felt like he was running through quicksand, but he remained resolute, and pushed through to the end.

When Jackson was done, he hunched over. He was already panting hard, already sweating. He looked up at the bright sky; the sun felt extra hot today. Winter couldn’t come fast enough.

‘This ain’t no time for breaks. Get your ass moving!’ Coach Otsen shouted.

Jackson dragged himself over to the next drill. Three narrow, rectangular blocks were set out in a row on the ground. There were gaps of just under a foot between them.

‘You need to be faster, stronger. Push off from the ground, use the turf as your springboard. Go! Stomp the ground, dig into the dirt and PUSH!’ Coach Otsen instructed the team through the drill. They had to run sideways, planting both feet before the blocks, high step over them, then at the end, sprint forward and catch a pass on the run.

He directed each and every player through the drill multiple times, always screaming for Jackson to go faster.

Jackson slammed his feet down, stomping the ground angrily. Each impact sent shockwaves through his bones. He winced but pushed through, though Coach continued screaming in his ear “faster, faster!”.

Everyone went through the exercise five times, and on Jackson’s last attempt, the ball hit his hands and bounced off. He winced and jogged over, picking the ball up and taking it over to Coach Vasquez who had been throwing the passes.

‘Thank you, thank you! Remember to keep those hands MAXIMUM soft. You’ll get the next one.’

Jackson nodded and went back to the line, wiping his brow.

‘You’re not going to win anything if that’s the best you can do,’ Coach Otsen said before moving the team to the next drill.

It was simple, but this one focused on power. A sled was set up. It consisted of a wide, three-pronged metal base like a stretched out “H” with another vertical line through the middle. This vertical middle line also curved up into an S shape on one end, and held up a heavy blocking pad. Six of these pads and bases were connected in the same sled.

‘Don’t think this only applies to your Linemen,’ Coach Otsen said. ‘You ALL need to be strong. You can’t let anyone bully you around. You need to block for your Running Back, you need to block for your punt and kick returns, for your punting and field goals, when your teammate catches a pass and is running to the endzone, you need to block and escort him. Championships are won in the trenches. Line up!’

Half the team went at a time. Lonnie and the Linemen went first. They got into position before the pads, and on Coach Otsen’s whistle they lunged forward, driving the pads up and back.

‘PUSH!’ Coach Otsen demanded. Only when they drove the sled back three yards did he blow the whistle again and have them stop.

Jackson lined up with the second half of the team. Jackson was positioned on the centre right, with Isaac on his left, and Kenny on his right.

Coach Otsen blew his whistle. The six boys charged forward and smashed against the pads, pushing fiercely. The sled jolted a yard back, then Jackson’s leg slipped out from under him and he fell to his knees.

‘Stop, stop, stop.’ Coach Otsen stepped in as the other boys backed off. Jackson stood, brushing himself off. ‘Everything okay, Jackson?’

‘Yes, sir. I just slipped.’

‘Good. Bring it back.’ Coach Otsen helped the boys drag the sled forward a yard to reset it, then had them line up again. Upon his whistle, they tried again, and this time managed to rock the sled back the required distance.

Each group went through this ten times. Jackson’s shoulders and knees ached when they were done, but still Coach Otsen wouldn’t give them any respite.

‘Come here, you’ll like this one. Everybody always does.’ Coach Otsen had a smile on his face, it wasn’t a pleasant sight. ‘Time to go to Oklahoma.’

Rudy laughed, while others groaned.

‘No complaining! Shut your mouths and get in close,’ Coach Otsen ordered.

The players crowded in, circling around a spot on the field, leaving an empty space only a yard wide, and a few yards long. Coach Otsen wasn’t about to waste any time, and called Jackson into the circle. ‘And … Rudy.’

The circle filled around the two, keeping the same space before as Rudy and Jackson stepped up. Coach Otsen handed Jackson a ball then told them both to get set.

Both boys hunkered down. Most onlookers cheered for Jackson, but Rudy had a few supporters.

Jackson tried to steady his breathing as he clutched the ball tight. Rudy got down in a three-point stance, eyes locked on Jackson. ‘You think you’ll make a difference? Prove it.’

Jackson’s body thrummed with anticipation.

Coach Otsen’s whistle pierced the air again. Jackson burst forward, straining hard, he slammed into Rudy who welcomed him with open arms. Rudy slid back a step, then twisted as Jackson kept pounding forward. Rudy spun fully and flung Jackson to the ground.

The players surrounding them whooped and cheered, helping both boys to their feet, and the next pair was called forward.

The drill cycled through every player, giving them different pairings and matchups. Some big collisions were from Vincent and Owen, Lonnie and Rudy, Isaac and Pete, and Kenny and Freddy, where Freddy surprisingly scrambled past Kenny and stayed on his feet to reach the other side of the circle.

Jackson had a few more turns at the drill, one where he was pancaked by a Linemen, then another where he was matched up with Lonnie, who had been doing the best throughout. Jackson learned just how deceptively strong Lonnie was. His arms felt like an anaconda constricting around Jackson’s body, and Lonnie was as sturdy as a tree. There was no getting past him, and Jackson was driven into the turf.

Lastly, Jackson was matched up against Kenny. Kenny was given the ball, and before they began, he reached out and offered a handshake. Jackson accepted.

‘Good luck,’ Kenny said, smiling.

‘You too.’

Jackson shook out his sore leg and dropped into his stance. Kenny looked at him with some concern but hunkered down as well. He wasn’t about to take it easy on Jackson just because the injury was lingering. He wanted his partner back, the one who was always pushing at the forefront of practice with him. To get that, he had to push Jackson too.

The whistle blew and both boys dove forward. Jackson drove his shoulder into Kenny’s chest. Kenny protected the ball and lowered his shoulders, pushing forward. Jackson slid back as he dug his cleats into the ground.

Kenny kept driving forward, unrelenting as he forced Jackson back. Jackson dropped to his knees, his feet touched against someone else’s. The spectators circling around them hopped back and the whistle blew again. Kenny pushed forward that little bit extra then stopped and backed off.

Jackson was helped to his feet, though he left the circle and sat down outside of it, rubbing at his leg.

Coach Otsen called for a break and everyone went over to the benches to rest and recover. Kenny went over to Jackson. ‘You okay?’

Jackson nodded. ‘Yeah, just gimme a sec, I’ll be fine.’

Kenny offered him a helping hand. Jackson took it, and together they went over to the bench.

‘Sorry if I pushed you too hard,’ Kenny said.

‘You don’t have anything to be sorry about, I told you I’m fine. Besides, our opponents aren’t going to play nice.’

‘That’s true. You’ll be alright, you’re just getting back into the flow of things.’

Coach Otsen watched Jackson throughout the break. When the break was over, he called Jackson and Freddy over whilst Coach Knight managed the JV team.

‘I need a one-on-one between you two,’ Coach Otsen said. ‘Frederick, you’re offence. Jackson, defence. Give us a moment, to go over the route.’

Jackson stepped away as Coach Otsen told Freddy what he needed to run. In the meantime, Jackson limbered up, never taking his eyes off the pair.

It wasn’t long before Freddy came over to Jackson. Standing face to face with him, duelling against the boy he replaced, Freddy was even more self-conscious than usual, he kept his eyes on the ground.

‘Ready?’ Coach Otsen asked. Both boys confirmed that they were.

‘Good luck,’ Jackson said, sticking close to Freddy.

‘Y-You too,’ Freddy mumbled.

‘Hut.’

Freddy fought through Jackson’s press, though was forced outside further away from Coach Otsen who acted as the QB for the duel.

Freddy wiggled, then slashed across to the inside. Pain stabbed through Jackson’s leg at the sharp change of direction, but he kept up with Freddy, just half a step behind.

Freddy cut back to the outside. Jackson dug in his feet to stop. Pain erupted from his leg and he hopped off it. Freddy raced away into the open, and Coach Otsen easily connected with the pass.

Jackson hadn’t even turned around yet. He lowered down, massaging his leg.

Freddy ran back over. ‘Crap. Are you okay?’

‘Yeah, yeah, it’s just… I’ll be okay.’

‘Jackson.’

Jackson flinched at Coach Otsen’s voice. He looked up. Coach Otsen wasn’t mad, which was more terrifying. Jackson quickly looked away. ‘I’m okay, Coach, I just need a minute.’

‘You won’t have a minute in a game.’

The words stabbed at him more painfully than his leg ever could.

Coach Otsen sighed. ‘It’s good that you’re able to join in with practice. We’ll take things slow for now … but …’

“Don’t say it. Please don’t say it. I’m ready. I can still …”

‘…You’re not ready for playing time.’

Jackson hung his head.

‘We’ll take it game by game and see how you’re feeling.’ Coach Otsen patted Jackson on the back, then turned away.

Jackson was grateful he left without pushing it further. It let him believe Coach didn’t see him crying.