Page 16 of Tangled with the Tight End

~Bear Bryant

A week after winning our first game of the season, we’re at Atlanta’s Mercedes Benz stadium. Because we’re playing our division rivals, the Falcons, the locker-room energy has an extra intensity to it. A win today will set the tone for our chance at the playoffs.

I tape my wrists and pump up my teammates before we split into groups to meet with our position coaches.

“Battle of the Blue Ridge!” Marcus Delaney, our starting quarterback, and one of my best friends on the team, shouts. The sound of his voice echoes off concrete and metal.

A resounding shout of “Thunder!” roars through the room.

“We’re not here to play!” Marcus shouts. “We’re here to …”

“Win!” my teammates and I shout back.

Frank Bennett, the tight end coach, pulls me and the two other tight ends over into a corner of the locker room.

“Listen up, men. Everything we do today will dictate the tempo of this game. Their defensive coach wants to suffocate our quarterback. They’re hungry to sack Delaney. Our number one priority as a unit is protection. I don’t care if you're running a route or chipping on your way out—you do not let them get a clean line to Delaney. You hear me? Stabilize the edges."

We all exchange glances, nodding. We know our roles.

Delaney approaches me when we break from our huddle with our position coach. “Ready for the Houdini?” He smiles broadly.

“Itching to pull that one off,” I tell him.

We’ve been planning a play fake that will throw the defense off and hopefully result in a touchdown. We’ve run it in practice, capitalizing on our opponent’s weakness—one they perceive as a strength.

Football really is a chess game at its heart. We have to stay one move ahead of our opponent, strategizing and anticipating their moves. Physicality matters, but the mental game and the ability to outthink the other team matters just as much.

We gather by our tunnel and the announcer unenthusiastically says, “Please welcome our visitors, the Tennessee Thunder.”

At home when we run out, we enter the field player by player to the sound of cheers and fireworks. Away, we move onto a field in one group, all fifty-three men finding their way to the visiting team benches.

Atlanta’s players come onto the field one-by-one, we stand for the anthem and then the coin toss. They win and defer, which means we have first possession.

Delaney and I exchange a glance as our special receiving team takes the field.

The kickoff is caught and run to our thirty-yard line.

The tension is high as our offense takes to the line of scrimmage. A few of Atlanta’s players trash-talk before the snap. Their linebacker, James “The Wall” Jones, looks over at me and says, “A tight end trying to stop The Wall from getting to your QB? Good luck with that, Thunder. The Flock came to fly.”

I grind my molars, staring him straight in the eyes with a look that says I’m not backing down.

We make a first down. And another. When we’re at their forty-yard line, Delaney calls the Houdini. I block hard for the first two seconds of play. The rest of the offense fakes to the left, and their defenders follow our lead, leaving me open to catch the perfect spiral Delaney sends straight into my hands. I’ve got a good lead on the defense. I take off running, my lungs burning as I dig into the turf, tearing toward the end zone. The defenders behind me pant, the sounds of their grunts and the thump of their feet approaching fast.

I lean in, crossing the end zone just as arms wrap around my waist, pulling me down.

The tackle is awkward. I twist and hear a snapping sound.

My leg goes sideways. A searing pain shoots up through my hip.

The player who tackled me is up and off me in an instant.

I want to get up, do my victory dance and walk to the sideline, but I’m stuck in place. Pain overwhelms me, keeping me down.

Our score is announced, followed by a deafening silence.

I roll onto my back and when I open my eyes, trainers and medical staff are peering down at me, some dropping to their knees to ask me questions.

“Do you know where you are, Declan?”