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MD - Chapter 145: The boys
🕑 Added 2025-06-25 16:14:28 +0000 UTCFebruary 10, 2010
The sky over Los Angeles was clear, a pale blue that signaled the approach of sunset. The air had that deceptive winter freshness only February could deliver: neither cold nor truly warm. The temperature hovered around 57°F (14°C).
The doorbell at Jay Pritchett’s house rang with a sharp ding-dong.
Jay walked toward the front door with that mix of confident stride and mild annoyance he reserved for anything that interrupted his afternoon rest.
When he opened it, he was met with a very familiar face: messy hair, a grin from ear to ear, a Palisades team sweatshirt half-zipped, and a backpack slung over one shoulder.
“Mr. Pritchett!” Steve greeted with exaggerated confidence, raising a hand like he was saluting an old war buddy. “How’s that golf swing holding up?”
Jay pursed his lips, staring at him with that usual expression, equal parts annoyance and affection.
“Steve…” he grunted, barely, without much intent to sound stern. “Come in. They’re in the backyard, by the pool.”
“Thanks, boss,” Steve replied, giving the doorframe a light pat like it was his own home.
Jay shook his head as he watched him walk past.
Steve crossed the spacious living room in long strides, skirted the large window, and stepped out through the side door that led to the garden. The golden sunlight fell diagonally across the warm patio tiles.
The lawn was perfectly trimmed, and near the pool a few folding chairs were set up. Sitting there in a circle were Andrew, Reggie, Archie, and Kevin, all laughing at something as they were passing a ball around
“The cavalry has arrived!” Steve announced, hoisting his backpack like it was a war trophy. “I brought beer! No Coca-Cola or energy drinks… this is a man’s afternoon.”
All of them turned their heads at the same time.
Reggie and Archie began clapping with exaggerated enthusiasm, like the MVP of the barbecue had just shown up.
“How the hell did you get beer?” Kevin asked, amused, spinning the football in his hands before passing it to Andrew, who caught it one-handed like it was nothing.
“I could tell you an epic story involving a fake ID or something… but truth is, my dad left them for me with a note that said, ‘Have fun, and toast to the good news.’ Which, in his language, is as close to a hug as I’m gonna get,” Steve said, collapsing into the empty chair waiting for him.
He opened his backpack and pulled out two six-packs of Corona. He handed them out one by one like Santa Claus.
“Cold, legal beer. February sun. Offseason. What could be better?” Steve said, stretching in his chair and raising his beer with a grin.
“Corona? Toretto style,” said Andrew with a slight smirk, looking at the bottle in his hand.
“It’s true,” nodded Archie. “He could be in a 200-mile-per-hour chase dodging helicopters, but if there’s beer, it’s gonna be this one.”
Steve smiled and said in a deep voice, “You can drink any beer you want… as long as it’s a Corona.”
The laughter was instant.
But then, Reggie looked down at his bottle, turning it in his fingers with a frown. “All nice… but how the hell do we open these? I don’t have super strength, I need a bottle opener.”
“Maybe Andrew does,” Kevin joked, referring to super strength. Reggie nodded.
“Of course I can’t open a bottle barehanded,” Andrew laughed, shaking his head.
Then all eyes turned to Steve, silently expecting him to pull a bottle opener from his backpack.
Steve froze for a split second. Then he pressed his lips into a guilty grimace. “Shit. I forgot it.”
“Come on!” they all groaned in unison, shaking their heads and shooting him exaggerated looks of disappointment.
Before Steve could embarrass himself any further for forgetting something so crucial, a raspy voice rang out. Everyone turned around quickly.
“Catch!” said Jay, leaning against the doorframe with an expression that was half amused, half resigned. He tossed a metal bottle opener with precision. It flew through the air, and Reggie caught it mid-flight, barely rising from his chair.
“Thanks, Grandpa!” Andrew called out, raising his bottle. The others followed suit, lifting theirs in appreciation.
Jay snorted, half-smiling as he turned to head back inside.
“Don’t thank me. Just don’t puke in the pool or break anything,” he grumbled over his shoulder.
Reggie was the first to pop open his beer and passed the opener to Archie, who took it like he’d just been handed the Olympic torch.
As the metallic sound of caps being popped off filled the air, Kevin glanced sideways at Andrew, who was still holding his unopened bottle.
“And what about you, Mr. Quarterback, macros and protein maniac?” Kevin asked with a teasing grin. “Gonna allow yourself one beer today?”
Andrew turned his head slightly, raising an eyebrow and giving a half-smile.
“I’m only correcting you because you gave me the perfect setup,” he replied in a casual, classroom-style tone. “Protein is a type of macronutrient. Macros include protein, carbs, and fats. So saying ‘macros and protein’ is like saying: fruit and apples.”
Kevin rolled his eyes and clutched his chest dramatically.
“Oh, forgive me, Master of Nutrients! Punish my dietary ignorance!”
The others burst out laughing as Andrew finally opened his beer with a crisp clack and raised the bottle toward Kevin.
“You’re forgiven. As for your question…” Andrew said, “This is a special occasion, isn’t it?”
He turned his head toward Steve, who was still holding his bottle, the backpack resting at his feet.
“You said your dad gave you the beers to toast the good news. So… what exactly is the good news?”
Everyone turned to look at Steve, their once-relaxed and smiling faces now focused, curious.
Steve shifted in his chair, and for the first time that afternoon, his smile faded a bit. His expression turned more serious. He took a sip of his beer, cleared his throat, and got ready to speak.
“Come on, don’t be dramatic,” Archie said, raising an eyebrow with a half-smile.
“Spit it out, man!” added Reggie, giving him a gentle elbow from the next chair over.
Steve sighed.
“Alright… but don’t freak out,” he said, with a tone somewhere between serious and slightly theatrical. “Next year… I won’t be at Palisades anymore.”
Silence hit instantly. The laughter vanished. Four pairs of eyes stared at him in complete quiet.
Until Archie broke the tension.
“You too?”
Steve blinked. “What? What do you mean ‘too’?”
“I got a few offers too,” Archie said, scratching his head. “Went over them with my parents… and accepted one.”
“Looks like I’m not the only one,” Reggie chimed in, half amused, half relieved. “I’ve been stressing all week about how to tell you guys I accepted a scholarship… and turns out we’re all in the same boat.”
“Whoa…” Steve muttered, turning to Kevin. “What about you, Kev?”
“What’d you think?” Kevin replied. “That I was gonna stay behind and guard ghosts? Of course I got offers. I accepted one. No way I’m staying at Palisades watching the offense fall apart.”
And suddenly, all eyes turned to Andrew.
They already knew the answer… but they wanted to hear it from him.
Andrew nodded with a slight smile at the strange turn of events, he had been planning to tell them he was also leaving Palisades next year to play at Mater Dei.
They all looked at each other.
The surprise on their faces slowly began to fade.
And without anyone needing to say it… the laughter returned.
First came a pffff, then an explosion of laughter.
“Man… and here I was thinking you guys would hang me by my ankles for being a traitor,” Steve said, exhaling like a huge weight had been lifted off his chest.
“Alright then, I’ll go first,” he continued, standing up and raising his bottle. “I’m heading to Notre Dame! Home of the mighty, competitive Serra League!”
The others clapped and whistled like he’d just won a championship.
Andrew smiled too, raising his bottle. “Oh, we almost ended up playing together.”
Steve raised an eyebrow. “Wait, what? You got an offer from Notre Dame too?”
“Yeah. I was this close to accepting,” Andrew admitted. “Seriously. It was the best offer I had… well, second best.”
“What school could possibly be above Notre Dame?” Kevin asked, half-joking, half-curious.
“It’s gotta be one from the Trinity League…” Archie said, letting the words hang in the air.
Andrew didn’t answer right away. He took a sip of his beer, glanced around at them, building just a bit of tension.
“Mater Dei.”
The silence was instant. Eyes widened.
“Mater Dei?” Steve repeated, almost choking on his drink. “Are you serious?”
“Dude!” said Reggie, sitting up in his chair. “You got an offer from Mater Dei and almost said no?!”
“It’s really far,” Andrew explained with a shrug. “My dad couldn’t drive me; he’d always be late to work. So I pretty much ruled it out at first.”
“And now?” Kevin asked, eyes locked on him.
“My grandpa said he’d buy me a car. So… problem solved,” Andrew said with a slight smile.
“They’re getting you a car and you’re playing at Mater Dei?!” Steve shouted, throwing his arms up in disbelief.
“Yeah… he actually offered. Said he wasn’t going to let a logistics issue ruin it for me.”
“That’s great. From Palisades to the titan of the Trinity League,” said Archie, raising his bottle in a toast.
“Well, Notre Dame isn’t exactly small-time,” Andrew added. “It’s Division 1, we might see each other in the playoffs.”
Steve thought about it for a second and said, “True… if we were facing Mater Dei, I’d usually think we had a shot. But you as their quarterback…” he pointed at Andrew with his bottle. “Yeah, I see that as a guaranteed loss. All I can do is pray we don’t face off.”
“Well… since everyone’s dropping bombshells, it’s my turn. I’m going to Loyola High School,” said Kevin.
“Oh, Loyola!” said Steve with a grin, nodding. “Good school. D1, right?”
“Yeah. Mission League. Not as competitive as Serra, but it’s a definite step up from Palisades. They haven’t won regionals in a while, but they’ve got great facilities, solid coaching, and for a lineman like me… the exposure is way better.”
Andrew nodded, knowing Kevin was the kind of player who needed to be seen in the right place to take off.
“What about you, Reggie?” Andrew asked.
Reggie shifted in his seat, took a long swig, and said, “I got two offers. One D1 from the Serra League, but it was from a team that never shines. My dad and I ruled it out. I chose Alemany High School. D2.”
“Alemany?” Kevin repeated. “Haven’t they had a couple solid years recently?”
“Exactly. Three strong seasons in a row. My dad did a deep dive, like a detective. He said with another good season, they might move up. And if I play there, the chances of making a regional title run are legit.”
“Smart call,” said Andrew with a sincere smile. “And you’ll be a key player from day one.”
“Damn right!” Reggie replied with a smile.
“What about you, Archie?” asked Steve.
Archie gave a sideways smile. “St. Francis High School. D1, Mission League.”
“Nice,” said Kevin. “That school’s got tradition.”
“Yeah. Academic and athletic balance. I like the vibe. And if we have a good season, who knows—maybe we’ll meet in the playoffs… and I’ll ruin Andrew’s year.”
“Oh… I like that attitude. No mercy if we cross paths,” Andrew grinned, clinking bottles with Archie, who smirked in return.
Steve stretched out and looked up at the sky with a melodramatic gesture.
“And so… the golden generation of Palisades splits up.”
“No, no,” Andrew corrected with a half-smile. “We weren’t the golden generation… we were the miracle generation.”
The others looked at him.
“Yeah,” Andrew continued, raising his bottle. “Miracles. Because we took a team that couldn’t even make it to the regional playoffs in Division 5… and made it state champion. Twice. Regionals and state in D5. Then we moved up… and did it again in D4. Undefeated.”
Reggie let out a low whistle. “When you put it like that… it sounds unreal.”
“But we did it,” Kevin said, raising his bottle.
“Miraculous,” Archie murmured, smiling.
“Then let’s toast to that,” said Steve, lifting his bottle with theatrical flair. “To the generation of miracles.”
And without needing to coordinate, they all raised their bottles to the sky.
“To the miracles!” they said in unison.
Then they drank.
And for a few seconds, the silence was filled with shared pride.
After that brief solemn silence, Steve broke it.
“You think they’ll ever make a movie about us?” he blurted out, eyes gleaming like he already had the trailer in his head.
Reggie looked at him like he’d just asked if aliens played football. “A movie?”
“Yeah, a sports one! You know… one of those inspirational ones. Emotional. A team with no history rises to the top. Two years in a row. The Miracle Generation. Boom! Dramatic ending, the star players take different paths… and years later, reunite in the NFL as rivals or teammates.”
“How many kids do you have while imagining all that?” Archie asked, amused.
Steve raised his bottle with fake solemnity. “Three. Two boys, one girl. My wife’s Scarlett Johansson. We live in Malibu. But I never forget where I came from.”
There was a pause… and then they all burst into laughter.
Reggie put a hand to his forehead. “Bro! Not only did you make the movie, you came up with the sequel and the behind-the-scenes documentary!”
“Scarlett Johansson?” Kevin said, laughing, not out of cruelty, but seriously, they were talking about Scarlett Johansson.
“She’s like ten years older than you,” Andrew added.
“Love knows no barriers, not age, not fame!” said Steve with a shameless grin. “And if I become the best wide receiver in the NFL, my chances go up exponentially. That’s just pure statistics.”
“If that happens, I want to be your daughter’s godfather,” said Archie, raising his hand.
“Deal,” Steve replied, clinking bottles with him.
“Well, being serious for a second…” Kevin chimed in, now with a more thoughtful tone. “At the very least, a documentary could happen. And it doesn’t sound that crazy. As long as one of us makes it big… there’s plenty of material.”
“Right,” added Reggie. “Workouts, pre-games, matches, stories… all with hundreds of thousands of views. Thanks to you, Andrew.”
Andrew shrugged with a half-smile. “Maybe… Who knows. We might only be a few years away from seeing a documentary about our high school days. ‘Miracle at Palisades’, narrated by Morgan Freeman.”
Steve let out a dramatic sigh and sank even deeper into his chair, staring up at the sky.
“Ugh… I already feel old.”
“Easy, Grandpa,” Archie teased. “You’re still missing gray hair and a hip replacement.”
They all laughed and went on talking, about the present, and the future.
Comments
Josh Muggs
I’m convinced they’ll have to rename Pallisades’ stadium after Andrew cause he’s their goat
Josh Muggs
I think it’s been made clear from the start that Andrew is a once in a lifetime Talent as a quarterback. He’s got a great arm or arms And he’s really fast as a rusher and breaks tackles when he runs cause he’s just so huge on top of that he’s been keeping his body in peak condition since he was 5 years old he’s practically an alien. He’s lamer Jackson and Cam newton in terms of rushing and probably has the composure of Joe Montana and precision of Brady in clutch moments and has that rocket arm like Payton manning or Aaron Rogers
Joshua David
I'd have to assume that the only reason Andrew's friends got D1 offers is because of the team's success and not because of how good they are individually. It's hard to reconcile the idea that the team was barely beating D4 teams when 5 people in their starting lineup are D1 caliber players, including Andrew, who you've made seem like the best high school QB in the nation.
