Greetings, everyone!
A little personal backstory here. I had originally started this story a little over six years ago under a different handle. However, I have since totally forgotten the password to that account. Also in that time, I never did quite get back on the ball of continuing that version of the story. Now, I have decided to revisit the idea of the story I had all that time ago.
This story to me is more or less gaining a bit more writing experience when it comes to fan fiction, or even fiction for that matter. In fact, this first chapter of the story pretty much has double the word count of the two chapters I wrote for the original version of this story. I'm rather proud of that.
A couple of things worth noting: I did decide to place Upperton and Middleton in Colorado for the story's sake, since I know there's not a general consensus on where these places exist in the realm of the show. The choice of sending Ron and Kim both to Upperton will be explained in the next chapter, as well.
This first chapter deals with the introduction of the main original character I am using for this story. It is a bit lengthy in terms of detail, but a lot of the key moments in the story will also more than likely be detailed. So, I'm hoping there are a few football fans that will enjoy the method I am enacting in this story to craft some of the action scenes.
Also, the musical selection that is included in this chapter is a song called "This Fire Burns" by Killswitch Engage.
Additionally, I'll also give the disclaimers that I don't own Kim Possible or any of the characters within the show's universe. Those belong to Disney, who I hope will not break my legs for using their property. Also, all original characters, teams, leagues, etc. are purely fictional and created by myself. Any relation to a person living or dead is purely coincidental.
That being said, I hope you guys enjoy the story. Please R/R, for all the feedback really drives me to keep things going at a good pace! Enjoy!
Chapter One: This Fire Burns
It was in the late-afternoon hours of a mid-September day in Upperton, Colorado. The sky above showcased a mix of sunshine and stray clouds. A faint breeze swept across an empty former soccer field, the goalposts on each end stood on the opposite ends of the field, each covered with traces of rust. A chain link fence surrounded the field's perimeter. The wear and tear of the pitch was apparent to those who stepped onto it, divots and dead grass littering the entire area of play. Within these chained confines, a group of people gathered at the center of the field.
"You hear anything from him?" asked a member of the group.
"He texted me just a few minutes ago," replied another member. "He was just getting off shift."
"He better hurry up, we ain't got much daylight left."
"Chill, dude. We got just enough time to get a little something in."
"Well, I didn't drive my ass all the way out here for a one possession game."
Another member chimed in, "He also has to do his pre-game ritual, too." A collective groan came from the group upon this reminder.
Five minutes down the road from the field, a beaten up station wagon rumbled down the one-lane road. The car's black paint was chipping from the bottom of the vehicle; the rumble of the engine could more than likely be heard from a mile away given its state.
Behind the wheel of the vehicle sat a man in his mid-20's. His medium-length brown hair was parted from his left side. He was clean-shaven and of a particularly average build, not overly muscular but by no means out of shape. His one hand gripped the steering wheel while the other was unbuttoning the yellow Bueno Nacho uniform that he was currently sporting.
As he unbuttoned, his eyes darted back and forth from the road in front of him to the surroundings of the inside of his vehicle. Litter was all over the inside of the car, from hamburger wrappers to empty plastic soda bottles. Through all of the mess strewn about, which shifted every time he turned the vehicle, he couldn't spot the item which he was looking for.
"I just had it," he quietly spoke to himself, finally undoing the final button of his uniform and sliding it from off of his right shoulder. "It didn't just walk out of the car and disappear."
He then returned his focus back to the road.
SCREEEEEEEECH!
Stop sign.
He gritted his teeth as he came to a sudden halt at the sign, both hands tightly gripped on the steering wheel. He checked both sides of the four-way stop, seeing no vehicles stopped at either end. He let out a bit of a relieved sigh upon seeing no other traffic around to see his driving gaffe and proceeded on his way.
"Focus, Mike," he softly spoke to himself. "Don't need another fender bender right now, you can't afford it."
Upon his return to accelerating the vehicle, he spotted a glint from down on the passenger's side floor.
"Aha!" he exclaimed, quickly reaching down to the floor to pick up a compact disc that managed to come unhidden following his last stop. He blew on the content side of the disc, then flipping it around to do the same to the label end. He slid the disc into the CD player that he had installed into the vehicle, sacrificing the FM radio that had once been in place in the center of the console. He then turned the volume of the device up a little, pressing "Play".
The next sound that came from the speakers was the thrashing chords of an electric guitar, followed shortly thereafter by a long scream. He turned the volume up a few more notches before the first part of the song kicked in.
-All I've ever wanted was destiny to be fulfilled-
-It is in my hands, I must not fail, I must not fail-
"Mike McCage, ladies and gentlemen, has to be one of the best quarterbacks that Middleton High School has ever seen…"
He remembered the radio calls of greatness. He remembered being on top of the world. He remembered feeling invincible.
-Even through the darkest days-
-This fire burns always-
-This fire burns always-
"ASN is projecting Mike McCage to be one of the top ten quarterback recruits of the season…"
The future was planned. He had a free ride through college by playing the game he had loved since he was just a small child. He couldn't have asked for anything more.
-This is the proving ground-
-Misery begins to rise-
His three years as quarterback for Middleton had been the highest point in his career. He set season school records for passing yards, completion percentage and touchdowns.
-Turn away from yesterday-
-Tomorrow's in my eyes, oh-
Highly touted as one of the best quarterback prospects in the country, he went into Middleton's first game of his Senior year with the highest of confidence. A state championship had not only been predicted for Middleton, it was expected.
-Nevermore to be held down-
-By the wings of history-
"Second and five, ball on the Middleton fourty-four yard line…"
-Nevermore to be cast aside-
-This day is mine-
"Ball snapped to McCage, he steps back in the pocket. Blitz is coming!"
-Even through the darkest days-
-This fire burns always-
-This fire burns always-
"The pocket collapses, McCage has been sa—THE BALL IS LOOSE!"
-I will not be denied in this final hour-
-I will not be denied, this day is mine-
"Middleton recovers the football, but folks, it does not look good for Mike McCage. He is down on the field and he is in pain."
-This passion inside me is burning, is burning-
-This passion inside me is burning, is burning-
That night was burned into his memory, never to be forgotten. He remembered being wheeled into the locker room, his knee swelling to the size of a balloon as the team athletic doctors scurried around the locker room to attend to his gruesome injury.
-Even through the darkest days-
-This fire burns always, always-
"Breaking news coming in to us here at ASN College Football Nightly. Middleton athletic officials have announced that top quarterback prospect Mike McCage suffered a torn ACL in the first quarter of Middleton's Friday night game. He is out for the season…"
And just like that, it was over. The free ride, the confidence, the popularity, the fame: Gone in the matter of just two seconds. Middleton would finish the season with its first losing record in five seasons. Mike would lose out on much more than just a winning season.
-This fire burns, fire burns, always-
-Always, always-
Mike had never lost the passion for football following his gruesome injury nearly a decade ago. Rehab for his injury nearly took a year to complete. It was the slowest year in his life. It would be almost another year before he ever touched a football again, participating in local pickup games over the last few years to scratch the competitive itch that only football could soothe. After graduating from Middleton, Mike floated around from job to job in order to make a living. There was no money for him to go to college or even attend a vocational program to get a better paying job. For the last six years, he had been employed at a local Bueno Nacho franchise and had been daytime shift manager for just the last three.
Mike pulled into the gravel parking area located just a few yards away from the field, he set the car into "park" and killed the engine. He then looked in the back seat of the vehicle, tossing his Bueno Nacho uniform onto it and grabbing a light blue Denver Stampede jersey placed just to the side of where the uniform landed. He slid the uniform on over the undershirt that he wore underneath his uniform, taking a deep breath and exiting the vehicle.
Mike stepped out of the vehicle, pressing the lock down on the inside door of the vehicle and shutting it closed. He started making his way to the field, placing the keys to his vehicle in the left front pocket of his jeans.
"Look who decided to show up!" announced one of the group members. A few laughs from the group followed the announcement.
Mike grinned slightly, walking through the lone entrance gate of the fence. "Aww, did you guys think I wouldn't show up?" he asked.
"We figured we would be waiting another four minutes for your pre-game psyche up," replied the member who had announced Mike's arrival.
"Did that on the way in," Mike explained. "Figured you guys would want to get this thing going sooner than later. Plus, I wasn't counting on a visit from the district manager today. Sorry for being late."
A few members of the group shook their head, some letting out terribly hidden chuckles behind their mouths. A younger man with short blonde hair stepped forward, pointing to Mike. "You've got the B-team, man," he said, pointing behind him and the main group at center. "I already picked my team before you got here."
Mike looked behind the blonde teen, noticing another group that formed just a few feet away from where he was standing. What he saw was a rogue's gallery of athletes standing next to each other. Three were out of shape, one red-haired kid looked like he would barely weight a hundred pounds soaking wet, and two tan-skinned twin brothers wearing matching polo shirts made up his team of gridiron warriors.
"Oh, what the f—…"
The blonde teen interrupted him before he could finish his sentence, "Hey man, next time you get here on time. Otherwise…" he looked back to Mike's team. "You get the greenhorns."
The other team let out a collective laugh, walking down to the North end of the field. Mike watched them, both hands at his sides and he glanced back to his team of misfits. He let out a sigh, starting to make his way over to them.
"Are you on our team?" asked the redheaded teen.
"I, uh…" Mike looked him over once more, thinking to himself that he might have to glue his teammate back together if the other team hit him hard enough. He looked down at the field, shaking his head, "…suppose I am," he sighed.
"Great!" the redhead beamed. "Well, we had decided that I was going the be the quarterback…"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Mike interrupted, placing both of his hands up about chest level in a halt sign. "You're going to be quarterback?"
The redhead nodded. "Well, yeah. I figured that I could throw the ball better than anyone else here on the team."
Mike raised his right eyebrow to the teen, once again peering around his team to see if another candidate was worthy of helming the quarterback position. He turned his attention back to the redhead.
"Yeah, I'm going to be the quarterback today," he flatly stated, stepping around the teen and walking towards the North end of the field.
"Wait a minute!" the redhead exclaimed, starting to follow him. "Why are you the quarterback? We didn't even come to a group vote on whether you would be the quarterback! We had all decided before you got here…"
"Alright, fine!" Mike relented. "You can be the quarterback, but the second you…" he poked his left index finger into the teen's chest. "…screw up. I'm taking control of the snaps. Understood?"
The redhead beamed again, straightening up and lifting his head high. "Won't have to worry about that! I've got it all under control! Now, we've elected you to be the running back for the game, if that's fine."
Mike groaned, "Fine, fine. Let's just go and get this over with."
The redhead grabbed his shoulder; halting his forward progress, "Hang on, man! We have to do our pre-game chant!"
Mike winced upon hearing this, slowly turning back to the redhead. "Pre-game chant? I sincerely hope you're not serious."
The redhead placed his hand out in front of him, motioning with the others to come and join him. They all obliged by placing their hands on top of each others, looking over in Mike's direction to come and join in the group. Mike's look of disdain was clearly apparent to them, almost burning a hole right through them.
"I'm going to go and see who gets possession first, " Mike said, turning back and resuming his progress to the opposing team that gathered at the North end.
"On three! One, two, three…"
"GOOOOOOO TEAM!"
Mike rolled his eyes as he continued to walk from his teammates, "Good lord," he muttered under his breath.
The other team was huddled together, talking to each other in low voices to assemble their gameplan. The blonde teen noticed Mike approaching the group, walking out of the huddle and towards him. "You guys set?" he asked.
"For the most part," Mike nodded. "Who's getting ball first?"
"We decided to defer to you guys," the blonde responded.
"Alright, what are the rules?"
"First and goal for every possession. You either make it or you turn it over wherever you stop," the blonde explained. "Each possession starts with either a kickoff or a throw to the other team. In order to score, you have to walk through the posts at either end. Out of bounds is called if you go into the fence, nothing else." After this explanation, the blonde's expression turned into a sly grin. "By the way, who's the quarterback for your team?"
Mike took a second to gather himself, shaking his head slightly before he answered, "The redhead kid is."
This elicited a group laugh from the opposing team, followed by the blonde teen replying to Mike with a wide grin, "See? I knew he'd take our advice!"
Mike furrowed his brow at the teen, opening his mouth to say something to him. The blonde cupped his hand to his ear, awaiting Mike's response. Mike instead just let out a quick "Pfft," and returned to his arriving teammates. "Get ready for the kickoff!" the blonde shouted as Mike walked away.
Mike made a slow jog to the other end, his teammates noticing and following suit behind him. "We're getting the ball first, guys," Mike explained. "First and goal the whole way through, so make some smart plays and get as many yards as you can."
He turned back to face the North end of the field, watching two of the three soft players of the team huff and puff their way into a return position. Mike once again shook his head, realizing that he probably wasn't going to get the assistance needed to effectively run an offense. He didn't even want to even fathom the problems that would arise on defense.
"You want to take the return?" asked the redhead.
"You better believe it," Mike responded, clapping his hands together once and starting to bounce from one leg to the other. The adrenaline began to rush through his system, feeling like a thousand volts of electricity running through his body.
Showtime.
From the other end of the field, the blonde teen opposing captain ran a few steps and heaved the ball into the air towards the opposite end of the field. Mike judged the arc of the ball as it sailed his way, running up a couple of steps to meet the ball on its downward descent. He extended his arms in front of him, the ball landing in his arms. He brought the ball in with his right arm, starting to make his forward progression down the field.
"I need a block!" he shouted, starting to see the defense grow in his vision. He kept running, but nobody came in front of him to guide his way through the wave of defenders. Shortly after his catch, two defenders met him from both sides. Mike fell to the ground with the weight of two men crashing on top of him. The men stood up after accomplishing their defensive action, allowing Mike to dust himself off and get back up on his feet.
"Where the hell was my blocking?" Mike barked, looking at his team. Each member of his team glanced back and forth at each other for a moment, trying to see who would be voted as the scapegoat for the lousy return.
"I thought you were going to call for a fair catch," piped the redhead.
Mike looked at the teen disbelievingly, "Fair catch? Why in the hell would I call for a fair catch for a kickoff return, let alone one in a PICKUP GAME?" His last two words punctuated with a hint of frustration to the teen, who looked back down at the ground.
"I thought that's what they do on TV," he explained. "They do that wavy arm thing and they don't have to get tackled."
Mike rubbed his temples, letting out a long and loud sigh. "Okay, fine. Whatever. It's first down, dude. Let's see what you can do."
The team formed into their offensive assignments: The twins both standing by each other in wide receiver designations, the three portly players acting as the line for both offense and defense, leaving the overconfident redhead as quarterback and Mike as the running back in the backfield in a Shotgun formation.
Mike lined up to the right hand side of the redhead, taking a quick look over the defensive scheme. He spotted only one safety in the back, one man near the twin receiver set and two more in the box behind the line.
"Be careful," he quietly spoke to the redhead. "I think they might blitz here."
"Don't worry," the redhead said, seeming to try and relax Mike's fears. "I've totally got this under control." Mike smirked, placing both of his hands on his knees as he bent down slightly.
"Here we go!" shouted the redhead. "Hike the ball on three! One…"
Mike raised his brow once more to the actions being performed in front of him. Surely, this kid can't be serious, he thought to himself.
"…Two…"
Mike saw the defense tense up, ready to go full throttle upon the redhead's next word. He prepared for the worst.
"Three!"
The defense crashed the line hard, the left defensive lineman bowling over his assignment and making a path towards the quarterback. The redhead responded the way Mike thought he world.
"OH GEEZ!" the redhead shrieked, starting to run backwards away from the chasing linesman. Mike began to give chase towards the two, waving his arms frantically. "Throw the ball here!" he shouted. The two twin receivers, instead of running routes in attempt to help the situation in any way possible, stood and watched the chaos unfold with a look of bewilderment.
The redhead kept running backwards, finally trying to make an evasive maneuver to elude his pursuer. Once he had a second, he made a weak pass to Mike on his right side. Mike started to make his way to the direction of the pass, then suddenly stopped and let the ball land in front of him.
"Incomplete!" Mike announced, walking forward a few steps and picking the ball up.
"What are you doing?" the redhead asked, making a slow jog to him. "You could've caught that! You didn't even make an attempt to catch that ball!"
"Because we would have lost yards had I caught that," Mike explained. "Hell, if you would've got yourself tackled we'd have given up a safety."
The redhead reached to take the ball away from Mike, in which Mike responded to tightening his grip on the ball and jerking it slightly back into his possession.
"I don't think so, kid," he said. "I think I'll take it over from here. Go ahead and take running back duties." The redhead huffed at this, shaking his head and walking along side Mike as they returned to the group huddle.
Mike looked around at the huddled players, leaning into the center of the group and speaking in a quiet, yet harsh tone. "Listen. You guys can fiddle around all you want, but I want to win this damn thing." This caused some rather uneasy looks between the group. "If you really want to play, start by making some god damn plays out there." He pointed at the two twin receivers, "You two need to get it together and run routes. I don't care how fast you are or where you go, just get open." He pointed to the linesman, "Get me some protection out there, I'm not the only one who needs a little time to get things going," he pointed back at the receivers again, "These guys need it to."
"What about me?" piped the redhead.
Mike looked at him, standing straight up and placing his hands on his sides. "You? You need to just stay out of my way." The redhead looked away from him, giving a slight nod of both acceptance and defeat.
"We'll go on a 'hike', none of this countdown stuff," he looked again at the redhead. "Second down and we've got a long way to go, gentlemen. Let's do this."
Mike gave a clap of his hands as he parted from the group. The rest of the team lined up similarly to the last play, with Mike and the redhead swapping spots.
"New quarterback!" one of the opposing linemen shouted. Upon hearing this, the defensive scheme changed quickly. One of the linemen in the box stepped back a little, appearing to play as a second safety to the play.
Mike peered around the altered defensive scheme, darting back to the twin receivers once again standing next to each other. "Split it up!" he barked, pointing their way. The two twins looked at each other, taking a few seconds before one of them ran to the other side of the line. He then looked at his running back, speaking in a hushed tone, "Hit the flat near the right sideline, be ready for the pass." The redhead acknowledged the play with a quick nod.
Mike raised his hands out in front of him, giving one more glance to the defensive assignments. He then focused on his center.
"HIKE!"
The ball snapped to him, gripping it in his right hand and covering the top with his left. He began to bounce around in the pocket, surveying the progress of his two receivers. The line was holding up at that moment, allowing him to make his proper reads. His mind went into a state of rapid thought.
One receiver ran straight down the left side of the field.
Not enough speed. I'd overthrow him.
His eyes darted to the other receiver on the right, watching him make a quick stop and run a side route through the middle of the field.
Good, good. Get some open field ahead of you, man.
He then spotted one of the safeties move in and take away the open field ahead of the receiver.
Damnit. Alright, move back to the ri-…
He suddenly heard the groan of one of his linemen, who toppled head over heels to the ground just a few feet in front of him. The defensive lineman was now beginning to close in on him.
Time's up.
Mike reared back and threw a pass to the open redhead on the right side flat, who bobbled the reception at first. He quickly regained his composure and secured the ball in his grasp, starting to dart his way upfield. Mike shook off his defensive pursuer and started to make his way behind the running back to attempt to make a few blocks from the side. He was late though, as one of the safeties made the play to bring the running back down near the halfway point of the field.
Mike reached the point of the tackle, extending his hand to the redhead as he was on the ground. "Nice run," he commented as the redhead placed his hand into Mike's, helping him back to his feet. He gave Mike a small grin as walked with him back to the group.
The group gathered again, Mike once again leaning in towards the center. "Alright, that was a good play," he said. "But it's still third down and we've still got a half of a field to go." He looked at his receiving duo. "Both of you, slants across the middle. I want to see if they try and go for the back again if we fake a flat pass like the last play." He looked back at his running back. "Same drill, just act like it's coming your way." The back nodded.
Another clap from Mike signaled the end of their play call selection. Once again, the same Shotgun formation was shown to the defense, and the defense showed the previous play's defense in response. Mike did notice one of the linesmen pointing towards the right side of the field, perhaps giving the linebackers and safeties a heads up that the offense might try and repeat the same play.
All according to plan, Mike thought.
Mike kicked his right foot up slightly, placing it back down onto the ground. He spread his hands out in front of him, ready for the next snap.
"HIKE!"
The ball was snapped into Mike's awaiting hands, clutching it into his grasp tightly as he watched the play form in front of his eyes. The offensive linemen contained their defensive counterparts tightly this time around, buying enough time for the plan to fall into place.
Slants, slants. Come on guys, give me something.
He once again glanced to the right, seeing his back wide open for the second straight play. He took the ball into his right arm and made a throwing motion to the back. The defense bit, sending the middle linebacker and a safety to cover the intended target. Mike finished his motion, holding on to the ball and clutching it back into both of his hands.
Psyche.
He glanced back to the middle of the field, viewing the mismatch now created in the center of the field. Both receivers were the same height, however one of them was taller than the remaining safety on the far left end of the field. Mike reared back his arm, throwing a deep arching pass down the left-center of the field.
The ball sailed in a perfect spiral into the air, hitting its apex and beginning its downward arch to the intended target. The receiver looked behind him, trying to make a quick judgment call on where he should be to complete the catch. His defender was close by on his right hand side, trying to jockey for position to make a defense play. The ball closed in on the duo, making the time for a decision that more imminent. In that split second, the receiver stopped dead in his tracks and turned around to face the pass, bending down very slightly and jumping upward into the air. His defender didn't notice the stop at first, running slightly past the receiver. The defender stumbled, trying to get back into position to disrupt the pass. The ball met with the receiver's fully upward extended hands, clutching the ball back into his chest as the defender crashed in from behind and tackled him to the ground.
"Yes!" Mike emphatically shouted, pumping his fist in the air as he started jogging to the new line of scrimmage just less than five yards away from the goalposts.
The blonde came running towards the spot of the completed play, giving his safety a quick shove, "What the hell are you doing?" he barked.
The safety responded with a shove back, "Me? What are you doing?" he angrily responded. "You bit on the fake! Any other time, you'd be back here helping me out!"
Mike couldn't help but grin at the seeming lack of leadership on the opposing side. He knew that it would be just a matter of time before the explosion of egos would begin to overtake the team.
The blonde stepped away from the confrontation, slitting his eyes at Mike as he spoke, "Fourth down, McCage. You ain't scoring on me."
Mike chuckled, "What? Are you going to stop me?" he asked, mockingly.
Before he could respond, the blonde was pulled back into his group huddle. Mike also returned to his, talking to his team with confidence.
"Alright, here's the deal," he started. "I need a full block, two receiver set here." He pointed to the redhead, "Don't need you to be a hero, just give me some help up front," the redhead nodded. "Receivers, quick slant routes should do it. Just try and get in front of the goalposts however you can," the receivers nodded. "Line, you guys did awesome that last play. Keep it up and we'll be ahead," the line shared a quick round of fist bumps upon their glowing review. With that, he looked around once more to his team as he spoke, "Let's get first blood here, gang."
The group erupted with a audible show of excitement and pride. They clapped their hands in unison and made their way to form the line of scrimmage near the ball, which had been centered on the field of play. The goalposts stood right in front of them, along with the defense scheme that was looking to swing the momentum in their favor with a big stop.
The Shotgun formation was once again shown to the defense, the same in the two plays prior. Mike brought his right hand up to his mouth, licking his index and middle finger quickly before placing his hands in front of him. He glared at the blonde, who in turn returned a glare of his own to the quarterback.
No pressure.
"HIKE!"
The ball snapped to Mike, taking two steps back and giving himself a bit more room behind the line. He waited for the receivers to make their moves, each running forward a few steps and turning back towards him. However, each were covered by two defenders.
Nothing there.
Mike noticed his right linesman losing his battle with his defender, looking to come around and make a route straight for him. He stepped back to the left slightly, looking to buy just a little extra time for something to come about.
"You're mine, McCage!" yelled the defender as he pushed his matchup down to the turf.
Train on the tracks.
Before he could make another adjustment to counter the rushing linesman, his redhead running back sprinted just in front of him and delivered a running shoulder block right into the chest of the defender. The defender let out a "Ooomph!" as he crashed down to the grass.
Good save, kid.
He stepped back out to the right, noticing that a large area of real estate now opened on the right side of the line as the defender slowly reached to one knee to gather himself. The redhead made his way up to the line, looking behind to Mike as if to give him a hint of what should happen next.
Let's see if I can still burn some rubber.
Mike caught on to the impromptu gameplan of the redhead, making his way to get behind him. Once he was close enough, the redhead began his progress past the line of scrimmage. He acted as a running roadblock ahead of Mike, making a path towards the goalposts to secure the first score of the game. As the redhead went to make another block, he was clutched by the incoming defender and taken to the ground hard.
Flying solo now.
Mike saw just one defender left in front of him, the blonde teen. The blonde hunkered down, his arms extended to try and trap Mike into a tackle as he started to close in on him. Mike saw this, reacting instinctively as made a quick stop in his tracks. Upon this sudden and quick halt, he planted his right foot out and swung his body around to his left. The momentum spun him around, taking the blonde off balance for a second as he tried to reposition and make the tackle. Mike felt the blonde tug on the left side of his jersey as he moved the ball into his right hand. He took his left arm and stiffly planted his palm into the face of the teen, pushing him off and forcing him to relinquish the grip on the jersey as he fell onto the pitch.
Mike made a low dive in-between the goalposts, sliding on his stomach into the designated goal area. His team let out a victorious cheer as they saw him score, some applauding his effort as they rushed in to meet him. Mike's teammates all came to offer their help to assist him off of the ground, all either slapping him on the back or congratulating him on the play. As he rose, he saw the blonde also returning to his feet. Of course, this was done without the help of his teammates.
Mike walked toward the blonde, huffing from the last play. Once he stood in front of him, he flashed him the widest of grins, "B-Team is up on the A-Team, buddy."
The blonde flashed him a look of disdain, quickly turning and walking back with the rest of his team down to the other end of the field for their upcoming possession. Mike chuckled, turning around and looking at the ragtag team of misfits with a sense of pride.
"You just gotta love the underdogs!" he said in a proud tone to his team, who each responded in their own form of agreement with Mike's statement.
This is how Mike spent a lot of his free time. He knew that the feelings and emotions he felt while playing with Middleton would never reach that peak again. Deep inside, he wished it all would have ended far differently than it had. But, he still had the game and he knew how to play it well. In time, he knew this would be a phase that would ultimately pass. But until then, something itched at him that told him that he still had something to prove.
The fire still burned.