07-06-2024, 12:08 AM
(This post was last modified: 07-07-2024, 08:50 PM by wetwilleh. Edited 1 time in total.)
Confurius came into these games with high hopes and soaring confidence. He’d put in a lot of time and effort in preparation. He trained, he lifted, he sprinted. He studied film and drilled technique. It was his first chance to show the world what the future looked like for offensive linemen in the DSFL. And the ISFL, for that matter. He’d be damned if he’d let anything happen to his quarterback. The tragedy of his best friend and quarterback through high school and college, Thaddeus Forrester, still haunted him, spurring him forward with an indomitable ambition. He would be the best offensive linemen there ever was because he owed it to Thaddeus. To start, though, he wanted to establish himself as the top offensive line option for the upcoming DSFL draft. As much as he appreciated his classmates, he knew that his skill and dedication set him apart from them, and the managers of the DSFL teams needed to know that. What better way than to come out swinging in the first round of the Prospect Bowl? He wanted to knock as many socks off the managers as he knew he’d knock down opponents. He dreamed of pancaking defenders and stunned linebackers. He rested when he needed to and ate healthy to keep his body and mind as ready as possible.
He’d gotten to meet some of his contemporaries among the S49 prospect class and got along with them swimmingly. As he visited numerous locker rooms throughout the scouting process, the welcoming nature of players new and old reinforced that he was on the right path. This was his dream and his destiny.
As the first round of the Prospect Bowl approached, he discovered a new facet of the game that he had previously ignored: the media. At Overlake High School and the Alki College of the Arts, he was always far too busy with classes, homework, projects, clubs, along with football itself, to concern himself with what the papers were saying about him or his team. He didn’t need to: they were always winning. He figured they were heaping praise on him and the Fighting Palettes, and engaging in that kind of content, he suspected, could threaten the humility that enabled the endless determination for which his coaches and teammates lauded him.
Arriving early for practice one day, he lingered for a moment in the lobby of the facility. The physical plant guys hadn’t come by yet, so the gym wasn’t open. He looked around at this empty waiting area, considering how he’d fill the time. Do some shuttle run drills in the parking lot? Re-read part of his tattered and taped copy of Larry Manfull’s Offensive Line Technique Manual? He usually preferred focusing on the work ethic and good character sections of Rick Trickett’s Complete Offensive Line for the days he was working out in the gym. That felt like just the thing. He strode over to the beautiful but uncomfortable chairs and dropped his bag on the floor beside one of them.
As he turned to sit down, he noticed, on the table in front of him, a newspaper that must’ve been left by one of the players or visitors yesterday. It was somewhat sloppily folded in order to feature a recent opinion piece by a local writer, who was a particular fan of his new Guadalajara Guardians teammates, Bachira. This Bachira fan had taken some time to evaluate the rosters of all three Prospect Bowl teams: their own Guardians, the Mexico City Aztecs, and the Baja Barracuda, in that order. Whether it was humility, avoidance, or superstition, he first skimmed down to read the analysis of the other two teams. The Mexico City team boasted some pretty impressive players in the secondary and he believed the upcoming matchup between their two teams would be a tough-fought game. The Guardians would win, of course, but he always looked forward to a challenge. The Baja Barracudas had a downright scary wide receiver corps and the impressive Jonathan Dailey on the defensive line. He couldn’t wait to battle him in the trenches. He had a feeling this might be the beginnings of an intense and respectful rivalry that could last for years to come. He was raring to break into this next era of his football journey, marked with cross-team camaraderie and dead-serious competition.
He returned to the top of the article, expecting to read glowing predictions, a slight sinking feeling settled into his chest. It would be the first of many, each sinking a little deeper than the last. Calling out a weak wide receiver group and a similarly weak secondary. The author highlighted his favorite player, Bachira, of course, and called out Confurius’ impressive pedigree. Beyond that, confidence in the Guardians didn’t exactly jump off of the page.
That was okay, though. Very few of the players had been seen in action in a professional setting, let alone had the opportunity to develop chemistry with the other players. Sheer talent and stats can mean a lot, but what really drives success for a team is how well they can play together. And no one’s seen the Guardians really play yet. He believed they could really impress their future coaches, regardless of the broad opinions of this article.
The facility manager showed up as Confurius was reading and opened the doors, turning on the lights inside and unlocking equipment and work out machines. Confurius dropped the paper back on the table as he stood up, grabbed his bag, and entered the gym with a purpose, ready to start training.
It was exhilarating to watch the first Prospect Bowl game. The Barracudas hosted the Aztecs but pretty quickly it looked more like the Aztecs had home field advantage. It felt so good to be back where he belonged after the seemingly interminable off-season! The game got out of hand before too long, pumping him up for his turn to show what he and the Guardians could do. He kept a close eye on how each team called plays, how the linemen on both sides managed their responsibilities and handled (or did not handle) their match-ups. He smiled a wry smile, which always made him think of Thaddeus, as he watched the Barracuda defense get by the Aztec offensive line, bringing their quarterback down twice. He was impressed, though, by the aggressive attack of the Aztec line. Despite the sacks, they served up two dozen Barracuda pancakes by the end of the game. Confurius still knew he was bound to be the best but he liked the idea of being sharpened by working with and competing against such talented peers.
His first game pitted the Guardians against the recently defeated Barracudas. Confurius was confident this was going to go well. The Aztec offensive line had dominated their defensive line in the previous game, so he was sure that he and his teammates would have little trouble topping their performance against them.
It did not go as he’d hoped.
Something was wrong that day for him. Maybe it was the jitters of his first professional game, maybe it was the Mexico heat, but Confurius struggled with focus throughout the game. The offense had a difficult time getting first downs throughout the first and second quarter, not helped by Confurius giving up his first professional sack to Alexander Hortle. The first quarter was salvaged by none other than Bachira, who sniped a pass and ran it back for a pick six at the end of the quarter.
It didn’t get better though. Confurius ended up drawing three penalties in the game, tied for the most in the game with his defensive teammate, Monster, though taking the specious prize of costing the team more yards. Confurius with twenty-five, Monster with twenty-four. He had a false start in the second quarter which was painfully followed with a successful touchdown drive by Baja. In the third quarter, he was unfairly called for unnecessary roughness, which must have thrown off the offensive rhythm because it was only a few plays later that the Barracuda managed to pick off a pass and take possession. Further, his dream of a tall stack performance was dashed, only managing to pancake one defender late in the third quarter. This was not how this was supposed to go.
The next match-up, this time against the Aztecs, who’d already dominated the Barracuda, did not turn out all that much better, as he had begun to suspect it might. He managed to keep his head about him more effectively, avoiding drawing any penalties at all. He’d had plenty in the first game to last him for the whole Prospect Bowl series. A single pancake, not even a short stack, was the only stat he logged in the contest. Barely a whole breakfast between the two games. Meanwhile, from the sidelines, he watched his team’s defenders get flattened repeatedly as Mexico City shattered their previous mark, recording twenty-nine pancakes, nine of which came from a single player, Drapal. Confurius could feel the shame flushing in his cheeks as he walked off the field, eyeing the box score. He didn’t know how much better his Prospect Bowl performance could get. He thought he had prepared, planned, and practiced to give him the best chance at dominance for these games and it was a tough pill to swallow to feel more dominated than dominant. He knew he was good enough to be a leading offensive lineman in the DSFL and eventually the ISFL, but this was an inauspicious beginning of that journey. The Guardians had the fewest pancakes among all three contests. If he’d learned anything from his experiences at Overlake High School and the Alki College of the Arts, it’s that survival and success comes from a combination of talent, dedication, and a supportive community to teach you and help you grow. It was time to connect with the linemen from these other teams. This was his future professional community and as always, that investment is the most important and the most rewarding.
He’d gotten to meet some of his contemporaries among the S49 prospect class and got along with them swimmingly. As he visited numerous locker rooms throughout the scouting process, the welcoming nature of players new and old reinforced that he was on the right path. This was his dream and his destiny.
As the first round of the Prospect Bowl approached, he discovered a new facet of the game that he had previously ignored: the media. At Overlake High School and the Alki College of the Arts, he was always far too busy with classes, homework, projects, clubs, along with football itself, to concern himself with what the papers were saying about him or his team. He didn’t need to: they were always winning. He figured they were heaping praise on him and the Fighting Palettes, and engaging in that kind of content, he suspected, could threaten the humility that enabled the endless determination for which his coaches and teammates lauded him.
Arriving early for practice one day, he lingered for a moment in the lobby of the facility. The physical plant guys hadn’t come by yet, so the gym wasn’t open. He looked around at this empty waiting area, considering how he’d fill the time. Do some shuttle run drills in the parking lot? Re-read part of his tattered and taped copy of Larry Manfull’s Offensive Line Technique Manual? He usually preferred focusing on the work ethic and good character sections of Rick Trickett’s Complete Offensive Line for the days he was working out in the gym. That felt like just the thing. He strode over to the beautiful but uncomfortable chairs and dropped his bag on the floor beside one of them.
As he turned to sit down, he noticed, on the table in front of him, a newspaper that must’ve been left by one of the players or visitors yesterday. It was somewhat sloppily folded in order to feature a recent opinion piece by a local writer, who was a particular fan of his new Guadalajara Guardians teammates, Bachira. This Bachira fan had taken some time to evaluate the rosters of all three Prospect Bowl teams: their own Guardians, the Mexico City Aztecs, and the Baja Barracuda, in that order. Whether it was humility, avoidance, or superstition, he first skimmed down to read the analysis of the other two teams. The Mexico City team boasted some pretty impressive players in the secondary and he believed the upcoming matchup between their two teams would be a tough-fought game. The Guardians would win, of course, but he always looked forward to a challenge. The Baja Barracudas had a downright scary wide receiver corps and the impressive Jonathan Dailey on the defensive line. He couldn’t wait to battle him in the trenches. He had a feeling this might be the beginnings of an intense and respectful rivalry that could last for years to come. He was raring to break into this next era of his football journey, marked with cross-team camaraderie and dead-serious competition.
He returned to the top of the article, expecting to read glowing predictions, a slight sinking feeling settled into his chest. It would be the first of many, each sinking a little deeper than the last. Calling out a weak wide receiver group and a similarly weak secondary. The author highlighted his favorite player, Bachira, of course, and called out Confurius’ impressive pedigree. Beyond that, confidence in the Guardians didn’t exactly jump off of the page.
That was okay, though. Very few of the players had been seen in action in a professional setting, let alone had the opportunity to develop chemistry with the other players. Sheer talent and stats can mean a lot, but what really drives success for a team is how well they can play together. And no one’s seen the Guardians really play yet. He believed they could really impress their future coaches, regardless of the broad opinions of this article.
The facility manager showed up as Confurius was reading and opened the doors, turning on the lights inside and unlocking equipment and work out machines. Confurius dropped the paper back on the table as he stood up, grabbed his bag, and entered the gym with a purpose, ready to start training.
It was exhilarating to watch the first Prospect Bowl game. The Barracudas hosted the Aztecs but pretty quickly it looked more like the Aztecs had home field advantage. It felt so good to be back where he belonged after the seemingly interminable off-season! The game got out of hand before too long, pumping him up for his turn to show what he and the Guardians could do. He kept a close eye on how each team called plays, how the linemen on both sides managed their responsibilities and handled (or did not handle) their match-ups. He smiled a wry smile, which always made him think of Thaddeus, as he watched the Barracuda defense get by the Aztec offensive line, bringing their quarterback down twice. He was impressed, though, by the aggressive attack of the Aztec line. Despite the sacks, they served up two dozen Barracuda pancakes by the end of the game. Confurius still knew he was bound to be the best but he liked the idea of being sharpened by working with and competing against such talented peers.
His first game pitted the Guardians against the recently defeated Barracudas. Confurius was confident this was going to go well. The Aztec offensive line had dominated their defensive line in the previous game, so he was sure that he and his teammates would have little trouble topping their performance against them.
It did not go as he’d hoped.
Something was wrong that day for him. Maybe it was the jitters of his first professional game, maybe it was the Mexico heat, but Confurius struggled with focus throughout the game. The offense had a difficult time getting first downs throughout the first and second quarter, not helped by Confurius giving up his first professional sack to Alexander Hortle. The first quarter was salvaged by none other than Bachira, who sniped a pass and ran it back for a pick six at the end of the quarter.
It didn’t get better though. Confurius ended up drawing three penalties in the game, tied for the most in the game with his defensive teammate, Monster, though taking the specious prize of costing the team more yards. Confurius with twenty-five, Monster with twenty-four. He had a false start in the second quarter which was painfully followed with a successful touchdown drive by Baja. In the third quarter, he was unfairly called for unnecessary roughness, which must have thrown off the offensive rhythm because it was only a few plays later that the Barracuda managed to pick off a pass and take possession. Further, his dream of a tall stack performance was dashed, only managing to pancake one defender late in the third quarter. This was not how this was supposed to go.
The next match-up, this time against the Aztecs, who’d already dominated the Barracuda, did not turn out all that much better, as he had begun to suspect it might. He managed to keep his head about him more effectively, avoiding drawing any penalties at all. He’d had plenty in the first game to last him for the whole Prospect Bowl series. A single pancake, not even a short stack, was the only stat he logged in the contest. Barely a whole breakfast between the two games. Meanwhile, from the sidelines, he watched his team’s defenders get flattened repeatedly as Mexico City shattered their previous mark, recording twenty-nine pancakes, nine of which came from a single player, Drapal. Confurius could feel the shame flushing in his cheeks as he walked off the field, eyeing the box score. He didn’t know how much better his Prospect Bowl performance could get. He thought he had prepared, planned, and practiced to give him the best chance at dominance for these games and it was a tough pill to swallow to feel more dominated than dominant. He knew he was good enough to be a leading offensive lineman in the DSFL and eventually the ISFL, but this was an inauspicious beginning of that journey. The Guardians had the fewest pancakes among all three contests. If he’d learned anything from his experiences at Overlake High School and the Alki College of the Arts, it’s that survival and success comes from a combination of talent, dedication, and a supportive community to teach you and help you grow. It was time to connect with the linemen from these other teams. This was his future professional community and as always, that investment is the most important and the most rewarding.