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MD - Chapter 133: Pressure? I like it
🕑 Added 2025-06-05 16:01:14 +0000 UTCFriday, December 1st — 2009
Palisades Training Field — 3:47 PM
The football team was in their final practice before the regional semifinal against Moose Ridge.
Today’s practice was shorter, more tactical than physical.
At exactly 7:00 PM, the Palisades home stadium would be lit up, packed with cheers, parents, students, and eyes focused on the players on the field. Especially on Andrew, since he was the star.
But out on the field during practice, the atmosphere was far from the usual excitement.
There was tension, something almost unnatural for a team like Palisades, known for its laid-back, confident, playful, and tight-knit vibe.
But this week had been different.
Liam’s absence, the heart of the defense, had left a visible gap.
The senior, strong, competitive, and respected by all, was sitting beside the coaches, a brace visible under his athletic pants. He had bandages beneath his right sock and a small support cane at his side, which looked more like a formality than a necessity.
Liam had suffered a mild Grade 2 sprain in the final minutes of the second quarter during the game against Venice.
It wasn’t a dramatic twist or a movie scene; just a bad landing, a quick, ugly roll. At first, he wanted to keep playing, but by halftime, he couldn’t even put weight on his foot. The team doctor pulled him out immediately and confirmed the inevitable: at least 10 days of relative rest.
With some luck, he’d be ready by Monday the 4th. Which, if all went well, would make him available for the final.
Of course, that depended on whether they could get past Moose Ridge again.
But today, Liam could only watch. He was clearly frustrated but didn’t want to show his bad mood or irritation to the team.
So, from where he sat, he stayed intense, right beside the head coach and the defensive coordinators, giving suggestions, analyzing plays, shouting corrections.
He wasn’t just involved, he was desperate to contribute.
Meanwhile, the team ran plays at half speed.
Andrew threw passes.
Reggie and Archie ran routes.
Steve and Jack ran their routes with everything they had.
Kevin fine-tuned things with the linemen.
But there were mistakes.
Mistakes that normally didn’t happen.
Andrew’s passes were arriving half a second late. A misread route here and there. A missed signal.
Things that were unthinkable for him, seen for the first time.
And it wasn’t just that. It was his energy.
Since Monday, Andrew had been different.
He showed up late on the first day of the week, something unheard of for him. It was only about ten minutes, but it had never happened before. Just once, the year before, due to some family issues.
This time, there was no explanation, he just took longer.
And that wasn’t all.
All week, he’d seemed distracted. Quieter than usual. Off, in the little things.
He forgot a signal. Threw a pass with mistimed rhythm. Misread a defensive formation.
Small mistakes that might go unnoticed in another player. But in Andrew, the precise machine, the quarterback who never seemed to falter, they stood out like flashing red lights.
His friends couldn’t get anything out of him.
What no one knew was that Andrew was like this because today marked the anniversary of his grandfather’s death, in his past life.
Coach David, who had improved a lot since taking over the team, noticed it. It wasn’t hard to tell.
During a break, David walked up to him. He looked at Andrew firmly, but not harshly.
“You here, number 12?” he asked quietly, just loud enough for only him to hear. “Because tonight, the team’s going to need you more than ever.”
Andrew looked up. His eyes were clear, but there was something dim behind them. A dull glow, like part of him was far away.
“Yes, coach,” Andrew replied. His tone wasn’t exactly enthusiastic, but it wasn’t depressed either. Just neutral.
David sighed but held his gaze, “I know we worked the defense well. I know we prepped for every scenario, every formation, every plan B and C… But I’m not going to lie to myself, or to you.” He paused briefly.
“Without Liam back there, there’s a gap. And you know it.”
Andrew gave a barely noticeable nod. He knew it. Against Venice, when Liam left the field, the defense collapsed.
And now their opponent was even stronger than Venice. Yes, they had put in a replacement. Yes, they trained all week… but the cracks were still there.
He had seen them. He had read them. As a quarterback, he could spot a weakness in a defensive line instantly.
David continued, “So if they score… we’re going to have to answer. Fire with fire. And that means you’re going to have to do what you do best: take us to the end zone every single time we get the ball.”
He stepped half a step closer.
"You always did it. Always. Four, five, six touchdowns per game. Like it was nothing. Like you were some damn point-scoring machine. And tonight, we’re going to need every single one."
He paused, staring at Andrew for another second, "I know I’m asking a lot. Maybe too much. And I don’t want it to sound unfair. I don’t want you to think I’m putting all of this on you, because it shouldn’t be that way."
His eyes softened, and he spoke almost like a father, "But there’s something I can’t ignore: you’re not an ordinary player. And nights like this, they’re not for ordinary players. They’re for the ones who make the difference."
Andrew looked down. Not out of shame.
Because of memories.
An echo.
A phrase hit him suddenly, like someone had whispered it from far away:
[Great players stand out in great and difficult moments]
The phrase the old man used to say. Always.
Andrew looked up again, this time with his usual spark.
Steady. Certain. Lit up.
"We will, Coach," he said with renewed confidence, then smiled. "We’re going to the final."
He patted David on the shoulder, almost reversing the roles for a second.
"Thanks… that was good, you know? Very Mr. Miyagi vibe. It got to me."
David smiled, even if he didn’t fully get the reference.
Andrew walked away with firmer steps, and as he made his way toward the team area, his expression turned thoughtful, almost conspiratorial:
'What if it was my grandpa...? What if he sent the coach a telepathic message from the beyond just to say that line? Sounds like him. Totally something he’d do… Obi-Wan style.'
He pressed his lips together, glancing up at the sky for a moment.
'You there, old man?'
No response. So he sighed and shook his head.
'Doesn’t matter. We’re winning tonight.'
And he rejoined the team.
The strategic practice ended. It hadn’t been long, or particularly demanding.
One by one, the players left the field and headed into the locker room. Some cracked jokes to ease the tension; others walked in silence.
Andrew was gathering his things when he heard a voice behind him.
"Hey, Andrew… got a minute?"
He turned his head and saw Liam. He was sitting on the bench near the sideline, wearing a thick ankle brace, bandaged, his foot barely touching the ground.
He didn’t have his usual confident smile. His expression was serious, calm… but heavy.
Andrew walked over, sat down beside him, and asked, “What’s up, Liam?”
“Look,” Liam began, “I know I’m not playing tonight. And I know it’s no one’s fault I got hurt. It just… happened.”
He paused. His eyes stayed fixed on the empty field.
“But… this is my last year. You know that. And this team…” he said, nodding toward the locker room, “never had a real shot until you came along with Reggie and the others. I was here the first two years, we barely had a decent regular season. Then you showed up. Last year, we won the championship, and not just that, we moved up a division… and now we’re undefeated in Division Four. One game away from another regional final.”
Andrew didn’t interrupt. He watched him attentively.
“If we lose tonight…” Liam continued, lowering his voice, “it’s over for me. The scholarships I’m aiming for depend on us finishing a perfect season, or at the very least, reaching the final and making some noise.
If we get knocked out in the semis… chances are, they won’t even look at me.”
He swallowed hard. He didn’t break, but the emotional weight in his voice was unmistakable.
“I’m not telling you this to pressure you. I know you’ve already got enough on your plate. But I’m asking you just one thing, Andrew: win.”
Liam turned to look at him. There was no blame. Just a sincere request.
Andrew looked back in silence… until he let out a soft nasal laugh and shook his head, “I’m a terrible leader, you know that?”
Liam frowned, confused, “What?”
“I made the coach worry, made you worry, the whole team, even my girlfriend, because I spent this week being some depressed philosopher. And now everyone’s more nervous than usual because the quarterback was off in another galaxy.”
Liam let out a short laugh but didn’t say anything.
Andrew ran a hand through his hair and exhaled. “But don’t worry. We’re gonna win tonight. We already beat those Moose Ridge guys once. We can do it again.”
Andrew turned to Liam and gave him a firm pat on the shoulder, “So you just relax, focus on healing that ankle… and make sure you’re ready for the final. I’m not letting you say goodbye from the bench.”
Liam smiled, more at ease for the first time all day. “Thanks.”
Andrew shook his head and returned the smile, “Thank me when we win tonight… and we’re celebrating at some decent party.”
Liam raised an eyebrow, amused. “A party? You? I thought you already went to one this month.”
“If the occasion calls for it, I might allow myself a second,” Andrew said with a shrug. “As long as it’s a decent party.”
Liam chuckled.
“You going to tonight’s pre-game hangout?” Andrew asked.
“Of course. I never miss those,” Liam replied as he stood with the help of his crutch. “Even if I’m just a spectator this time, I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”
Andrew nodded with satisfaction. “Perfect. See you there in a bit.”
Liam had already noticed Pippa standing a few meters away, waiting for Andrew.
He waved to her with a slight lift of his crutch, then gave Andrew a final glance. “See you soon.”
Liam walked off slowly, but steadily, leaving Andrew alone for a moment… though not for long, Pippa was already walking toward him.
She approached with a calm stride and a smile that mixed affection with mild concern.
“I saw the whole practice,” she said once she was close enough. “Your mistakes… were strange. I’m not used to seeing that from you. I don’t think anyone is, it showed on everyone’s face.”
Andrew looked down slightly, but Pippa wrapped her arms around his neck from behind, ignoring the fact that he was still a bit sweaty.
“But I liked seeing you get back in your zone,” she added with a little smile. “I don’t need to give you some sports-movie pep talk, right?”
“No need, luckily,” Andrew said, smiling. “Believe it or not, the coach gave me one. And somehow… it was actually really good.”
Pippa raised an eyebrow, surprised, “Seriously?”
“Yeah. He said exactly what I needed to hear. Like… I don’t know, like someone whispered it to him from the afterlife.”
She let out a soft laugh, and Andrew took the moment to lean in and kiss her.
When they pulled apart, Pippa looked into his eyes for a moment longer, and her expression turned a little more serious.
“I heard some of what you said to Liam… Are you okay? Isn’t that too much pressure for one person.”
Andrew took a deep breath, but his smile didn’t fade, “I like pressure. That’s when I feel most alive,” he said naturally.
“Of course…” Pippa replied with a mix of pride and resignation.
They chatted for a little while longer, then Andrew went to the locker room to change. When he came out, he walked Pippa home, despite her saying she could go alone.
They strolled together at an easy pace.
When they reached her house, Pippa gave him a short kiss goodbye.
“See you at the game. I want to see some spoiled kids bleed.”
“You can count on it,” Andrew said with a laugh as they parted ways.
Comments
Matt Holmes
Thanks for the chapter
