Lessons to be learned

There were a few minutes left until the captains met at midfield for the coin-flip, the lengthy pause in the start of the game created to accommodate the world-wide television coverage and allow the networks to shill on behalf of their sponsors. Sena approached Shin where he sat on the bench, discussing strategy with the Defensive Backs coach, the Linebackers coach and a majority of the younger defensive players.

"Shin," the D.B. coach was requesting, "one more time, just like in the film session on Friday…"

"This quarterback," Shin responded, eyes scanning the faces in front of him, "just as you saw on film, can throw the ball the length of the field on a line. But," Shin raised his eyebrows, eyes level and lit with a predatory gleam, "this strength of arm handicaps him on short outs, drags and curl patterns. He has little touch on these throws, firing the ball like a bullet when it should land softly, as a dragonfly. This indicates a flaw we can exploit: he is too excitable during the first few sets of downs."

The D.B. coach nodded, crouching down near Shin. "Exactly. We've all seen the trending on film… they test short early before taking their shots at mid- and long range." He held up a fist. "But, all this depends on stopping the run… they're not great at it, but they'll keep after it. It's simple: we control the line, they give up and start with the short passes, and then it's your turn."

Shin dropped one gloved fist into the open palm of the other hand. "Stay close to your targets. The quarterback is canny, but do not be fooled by his eye movements. I can tell you from experience, he will always look off his primary receiver, so do not leave your man." Shin put both hands out in a pushing motion. "Make good contact off the line of scrimmage, do not get impacted…"

"Knocked…" intoned the L.B. coach in his deep bass. "Don't let them drive you…"

Shin smiled in thanks. "…knocked from blanketing the short patterns. And," he raised a finger, "they often wait to release the running back – do not flow to another man's coverage area, wait for the back to emerge and then mark him as a target." He made an overhand slapping motion. "Slap and rip. Time it correctly. When the ball goes short, slap down, rip out, no penalties." Shin leaned forward, jaw muscles tight. "Make them regret they every thought about opposing our will."

The D.B. coach leaned back in his crouch, and turned to the players. "You got it? The man's been there and done that, he's right on. Remember your assignments, don't hit early but hit real hard."

"REAL real hard." Added the L.B. coach, with a nasty laugh. Both coaches began to clap. "That's it, let's kick ass!" The group dispersed.

"Shin."

Shin turned his head. The rain collected on the bristly hairs of his shaved scalp, and ran in streams down his sharp, strong features. "Sena."

Sena stopped a few steps away from Shin, mind still in turmoil, knowing he should have explained himself before now. After a lengthening pause, Shin raised an eyebrow at him, and lifted his hands up and out, palms up, in a shrug-like prompt for him to continue speaking.

"Captains! We need captains to the front! Coin-flip!" A loud voice interrupted the tableau as an assistant coach jogged by. "Number 21! Front and center!"

Sena tightened his lips, stood formally and bowed deeply to Shin, who recoiled slightly in surprise. "I owe you an apology, Seijuro Shin-san – my team-mate. My friend." Sena spoke quickly and forcefully in Japanese, still frozen in his bow. "I have presumed much, and by my actions I might be guilty of causing offense to you and your family. Please know, I hold you in the utmost respect."

"What?" Shin stood. "What do you mean, my family, Kobayakawa-san."

"CAPTAINS!"

Sena rose from his bow, facing Shin squarely. "You have not said as much, Shin-san, but this is your final game of football. Win or lose, you will return to Japan and go through treatment to conquer cancer. Your body, even your body, will be affected… you know as well as I how difficult it would be to return: with a family at home yet travelling across the world to the States; a year older after treatment that might take months and still not in playing shape; committing every last fraction of energy to this game of constant collisions…" Sena nodded slowly. "I know, Seijuro."

Shin was silent, head tilted down slightly so that his eyes were hidden in shadow, rain-water flowing down the hard planes of his face like tears. Now, it was his turn to pause before speaking.

"Could somebody find the damned captains and get their asses over here!" The assistant coach was wailing, now.

"What do you mean, my family, Sena." Shin repeated, softly.

"I have brought your wife here to watch you. Kaede-san is in my luxury box, with my family."

Shin's eyes opened wide, and he twisted in place, attempting to spy through the rain and mist and blinding light, as if he could spot his wife through all of it purely because he willed it. Slightly crazed, his eyes pivoted back on Sena. "That was not a choice that was yours to make!"

Sena bowed again, quickly. "And yet, she and I made it. For you. So that, when you score a touchdown today, the eyes of your wife will be on you. The ears of your unborn child will hear the vibrations as the crowd calls your name." Sena stepped closer, almost nose to nose with Shin. "So that your memory of your last game will be triumphant, and bring a smile to your face whenever you speak of it… whatever might happen in the future." Sena's eyes were commanding, not to be denied. "You will score a touchdown today, Shin, if I have to pick you up and carry you into the end-zone on my back. I will."

Shin stared, head tilting back and eyes squinted slightly, as if measuring this new, ferocious personality in the man he knew. His thin lips straightened from their frown. "Why." He asked, finally. "Why such lengths, for me?"

Sena shrugged. "That is an easy answer: because you are the best of us. Leading from the front, never relaxing, always the hard way – your example was what drove all of us to be the best that we could be. When you score a touchdown, it is me, and Sakuraba and Takami that run beside you. It's Monta, and Kid, and Riku that have their hands on the ball with you when you cross the goal – the entire generation that has wanted this football dream." Sena stepped back, eyes determined, and poked forward an index finger. "When you retire, it marks the end of our era."

Shin's mouth grimaced. He stepped forward and reached up a hand, paused with the white-crossed glove before his eyes, and then put the hand on Sena's shoulder pad. "Not true. You will still be here, Sena. As the example, as banner-carrier…"

Sena cocked his head to the side, shook it in a negating gesture and interrupted him. "Today is not about me, Shin. It's about you. You will take the ball to start the game, and you will…ERP?!"

"There you are, you little sonfagun!" One of the other captains, the cyclopean offensive lineman who had called the team to order in the tunnel, appeared behind Sena and effortlessly picked him up off the ground in a backwards bear-hug. "Coach has been calling for captains, Sena… where you been, man?" The giant turned, still with Sena locked in his arms, and lumbered off.

Shin stood, helmet dangling forgotten in one hand, nostrils flaring as he forced deep breaths to calm himself. After a moment he, again, turned his face upwards to the sky.