Motivation
Ty woke up with a start the day after the Dons' victory over the Saints. He sat on his bed, panting heavily. The memories of his dream were vanishing in a haze—all he could recall was he had been on a football field.
He looked around the darkened bedroom, no one else stirred, and the orange light of dawn was squeezing in around the edges of the curtains.
He sat there for a few minutes, but his breathing wouldn't calm. His body tingled all over, like tiny flames were crawling across his skin. His hands trembled uncontrollably as if it was game day again.
He threw himself out of bed and dropped to the floor. Quiet grunts escaped him as he sprinted through a set of push-ups.
He counted them out in his head—48, 49, 50. He was still overflowing with energy. He doubled his efforts—98, 99, 100. He was panting a bit harder, but it wasn't enough.
He stopped and stood up. He threw on some warm clothes and his shoes. He noticed his father passed out on the couch before sneaking out the front door.
Winter was fast approaching, but you could hardly tell, even at this hour.
Ty looked both ways along the quiet street. Some people were getting up, already starting their day. Ty watched a car pull out of a driveway and onto the road.
He took a deep breath and started running.
He forgot to bring his phone with him, so he didn't know how long he'd been running exactly, but by the time he thought to stop, the sun was well and truly risen, and so was the rest of the city as he'd seen many more cars flock out onto the road.
He was breathing harder now so he slowed to a stop. But his body was still burning, his fingers still shaking; it wasn't enough.
He needed more.
He turned back around and ran home, annoyed with himself for forgetting his phone, he raced home even faster and went straight to his room.
The twins were up and about, of course, while his mother and sister tried to keep them occupied and under control; his father wasn't on the couch anymore, and his car wasn't in the drive; but there was still a large lump in Damien's bed.
Ty snatched up his phone then paused in his contacts. He didn't need to work out, he needed to PLAY, but seeing as that wasn't an option, he decided to go for the next best thing. He scrolled back up from JJ's number and called Coach Hoang instead.
It rang a few times before Luke picked up. 'Is everything alright, Tyrese?'
'…It's weird when you use my first name, Coach.'
Coach Hoang sighed, instantly sounding more irritated. 'Okay, what is it, Samuels? …Is that better?'
'Oh yes that's a LOT better—'
'Look, I don't need to deal with your sh… attitude on my Sunday morning. Why'd you call me?'
'Hm. Sorry. I was calling because, well, would you be able to come down to the field and do some training today?'
'Seriously? You just had a game yesterday, you should be resting today.'
'I can't. I've already been for a run. But, I still feel like … like my body's filling up with steam and if I don't let it out, I'll explode, okay?'
There was silence from the other end for a little while. Coach Hoang sighed. 'Alright, give me an hour.'
'Got it. Thanks, Coach.'
'Samuels? You better be prepared to work hard, and don't forget you're the one who asked for this.'
'Hah. You better give me your fucking worst, 'cause I know I can fucking take it.'
Coach Hoang laughed 'We'll see about that, won't we?'
Ty scarfed down some cereal, filled his water bottle, and chucked his cleats into his bag before he left again. While leaving, he shouted that he was just going off to train.
After the door closed, he could hear his mother angry and confused about there being training on a Sunday, accusing him of lying. Meanwhile, Meg was calling out for him to have fun but not push himself too hard.
He pulled his bag further over his shoulders and grabbed up his bike, heading out to the school field.
He got there thirty minutes before Coach Hoang would. Of course, he took the time to stretch and warm up again with more running as he did laps around the field until Coach Hoang arrived.
When the taxi pulled up, Ty finished his current lap and then got a drink, watching as the driver got the wheelchair from the boot then set it up by the passenger seat before Coach Hoang pulled himself onto it.
Ty set his drink back down as Coach Hoang came over. 'Already been working hard, Samuels?'
Ty nodded.
Coach Hoang looked him over. 'Hmm, you've probably done enough running. Come help me with some equipment.' He turned aside and started towards the shed near the field which held most of the general equipment they needed for their team practices.
Ty followed him, and when they got to the doors, Coach Hoang took the keys from his pockets. 'You know, you're lucky Coach Long trusted me with a pair of these.'
'I doubt you'd have offered this private training if you didn't have those keys.'
'Hah, I guess you're smarter than you look.'
Ty frowned but pulled open the doors once Coach Hoang had unlocked them and moved aside. Coach Hoang went in first and switched on the light which flickered to life. He looked around. 'Hmmm…'
Ty stepped in behind Coach Hoang when he picked up a stack of cones. 'Samuels, can you bring out that throwing machine?'
Ty looked at the four-foot-tall contraption that was leaning against the wall. The legs of the tripod frame were folded together. On top of the frame was the "head" of the machine which was made up of two circles, like tyres, hooked up to a small motor which could make them spin at incredible speeds. When the machine was set up, there was just enough space between these two "tyres" for a football. The head could even be angled to adjust the arc of the ball's flight. Behind the head was a tube with a handle where you'd place the ball, then feed it into the two spinning wheels to launch it into the air.
'Yeah, sure,' Ty said before he pulled the machine away from the wall. It was deceptively heavy and he grunted as he held the top against his body, lugging the machine from the shed as the legs dragged on the ground. 'Fucking thing needs a wheel or some shit.'
As Ty did so, Coach Hoang had gotten a small net of balls, laying them on his lap along with the cones. 'I think the wheel for that one broke off a couple of years back. I guess we keep putting off replacing it.' Coach Hoang smiled as he led the way back out to the centre of the field.
'That's fucking great. What do we need this damn thing for anyway?'
'You'll see. Just get it set up there.' Coach Hoang dumped the ball net then spread out the cones in a large square with 15 yards between each cone.
Ty stood the machine by the discarded balls, spreading out the legs of the tripod and locking them in place before he planted it on the ground. He frowned as he watched Coach Hoang return.
'What's that look for? Already wanting to back out?' Coach Hoang said.
'I didn't say that.'
'Good. Now, line up at a cone. We're gonna work on your lateral quickness and backpedalling.'
Ty took his position by one of the cones then looked back at Coach Hoang.
Coach Hoang explained that Ty would have to run from cone to cone around the outside of the square, either by running sideways, or backward depending on what Coach Hoang called out, and he could only stop when Coach Hoang said so.
'Sideways!'
Ty took off, launching sideways as far as he could as he darted from cone to cone, turning at each corner to continue his sideways run/shuffle.
When he got to the third cone, Coach Hoang shouted: 'Backwards!'
Ty planted his foot and pivoted quickly. He continued on the same path, now running backwards.
He went around the square fully, and then when he got to the next cone, Coach Hoang yelled: 'Reverse!'
Ty paused for a moment and looked over to Coach Hoang. Coach Hoang pointed from Ty's current cone, back to the one he'd just come from. 'Reverse your direction.'
Ty groaned but spun around and started sprinting backwards in the opposite direction.
'Sideways!'
Ty jumped into his sideways sprint, then on the next cone he had to reverse direction again. As he ran around the circle, constantly listening to Coach Hoang's various orders, he watched the coach move around the field and set out more cones. These were aligned with the centre of the square, but touching either sideline.
Coach Hoang rolled back over to the throwing machine. 'If I call out sideline, you stop what you're doing, get to that line of the cones there, and start running between the sidelines however you were running around the circle. If you're going side to side, make sure you're facing away from me. Now, sideline!'
Ty rushed to the centre of the square, made sure he was in line with the far cones, then started going back and forth across the field from sideline to sideline, his back to Coach Hoang and the throwing machine. As he was going, he heard the machine whir to life.
'Now, when you hear me yell out "ball", you need to turn around and get those hands up, cause a pass is coming your way. Hey, no looking back, keep your head forward.' Ty's head shot back around and he looked straight ahead. Coach Hoang continued, 'you need to stop this pass no matter what. Catch it, knock it back, whatever, but if it gets past you, that's a completion, and you fail. Got it?'
'Yes Coach.'
'Good. …' Coach Hoang watched Ty closely. 'Ball!'
Ty spun around, hearing the "chthunk" of the ball being fed into the machine and launched out at high speed. His eyes locked onto the ball during its flat flight, but he stood flat-footed as he watched it pass by three yards away from his left arm.
The ball bounced away downfield, tumbling end over end as Ty watched it.
'What are you doing, Samuels? That's a touchdown you just gave up.'
'It was all the way over there!' Ty gestured in frustration.
'The QB isn't passing the ball to YOU during the games.' Coach Hoang narrowed his eyes. 'Go do a lap of lunges, up and back across the field.
Ty groaned and grumbled but went to one end of the field and began his punishment lap. When he was done he ran back to the square.
'Let's try this again,' Coach Hoang said. 'Sideline, backwards.'
Ty began running between the sidelines again. From the corner of his eye, he could see Coach Hoang and the machine flit back into vision as he crossed the middle of the field.
'Ball!'
Ty spun on his toes and, this time, threw himself out in the path of the ball, both hands extended as he tried to catch it. It bounced off his hands and tumbled behind him, landing on the grass.
'That's another reception for the Receiver. Go do some more lunges.'
'Shit!' Ty ground his teeth together.
The training would continue on and on. At random, Coach Hoang would direct Ty back to the square, then again, at random, he'd tell him to run from sideline to sideline, and at any moment a ball could be flung in Ty's direction.
The drill would continue for a while longer until Coach Hoang eventually permitted Ty a water break. As Ty gulped the water down, Coach Hoang sat beside him. Ty was breathing hard now, a thin coating of sweat dripping down his body.
'What's got you so fired up anyway?' Coach Hoang asked. 'We won yesterday.'
Ty wiped his mouth. He had to look inside himself for a moment to get the answer. 'Yesterday didn't matter; Of course we won, they were trash. Winning against them doesn't matter.'
'You're still thinking about the Bears and Vikings? Hm. I'm glad you've got that kind of motivation for revenge, but you can't overlook the opponents in front of you, or else you'll get embarrassed by that "trash" as you called them.'
'I'm not overlooking anyone.' Ty stared into Coach Hoang's eyes. 'I won't lose ever again, no matter who stands before me. And it's not JUST about the Bears and the Vikings.' Ty clenched his fists tightly. 'I won't be satisfied until we're crowned National Champions.'
Coach Hoang laughed. 'You sure are one cocky brat, aren't you, Samuels?' He smiled. 'You've got a long way to go if you want to reach Nationals. Hmmm. Get out of your cleats, I've got something else for you now.'
Ty raised a brow but did as he was ordered and then followed Coach Hoang out to the street. His curiosity grew as they moved further away from the school.
Eventually, they came to the foot of a hill, the footpath stretching high up to its peak. 'Here will do.' Coach Hoang stopped and looked back at Ty.
'Hill sprints?'
Coach Hoang grinned. 'Grab my handlebars. You're gonna push me to the top.'
Ty's brow furrowed.
'What? Is there a problem?' Coach Hoang snickered.
'Hnnnh.' Ty didn't say anything as he stepped forward and grabbed onto the wheelchair firmly.
'Go on, show me how badly you want to win.'
Ty pushed hard but the wheelchair didn't budge. They were at the start of the incline. He looked at Coach Hoang confused then strained further, pushing harder. Still, they didn't budge.
'What's the matter, Samuels? Is this all you can do? Is this as far as you can go? You won't even make it past Regionals if this is all the strength and drive you can muster.'
'Shut up!' Ty lowered his posture, pushing harder against the chair. His body was angled almost parallel to the ground. His wirey muscles flexed all over, but still, they didn't move.
'Are you serious? If you can't even push one cripple up a hill, how the fuck can you expect to win anything?! You might as well give up and never play again.'
'I said shut up!' With a last mighty heave, the chair lurched forward. Ty slipped and fell to a knee, leaning against the chair to hold it in place as he panted hard.
Coach Hoang looked back surprised and then laughed.
'The fuck are you laughing at?' Ty growled as he stood back up.
As his laughter slowly died down, Coach Hoang wiped his eye then disengaged the brakes on his wheels. The chair rolled back slightly to press into Ty more. 'I'm surprised you got it to move.'
Ty blinked and looked down in disbelief. 'You son of a … ugh, fuck you.'
'Haha, come on, put that energy to work. Get me to the top of that hill … and don't even think about letting me roll back down or I'll make sure to come back as a ghost and chop your legs off.'
Ty grunted but began hauling Coach Hoang up the hill.
'Put your back into it!'
Ty ground his teeth, increasing his speed as he moved at the equivalent of a light jog.
Eventually, the pair made it to the top. Ty panted hard, hunching over slightly.
'Catch your breath on the way down, we're going again.'
'Motherfucker…' Ty stayed put.
'Hey. Are you really happy with that effort? You want to be the National Champ, right? Hmph, forget about that, even getting past the Bears would be impossible. You remember their RB? Number 22? If you can't even push me up this hill, well he'd be like a semi-truck, and you want to stop him?! That's just Regionals, you better believe there will be tougher opponents than him in the State tournament, let alone Nationals.'
Ty took a deep breath and turned Coach Hoang around, guiding him back down the hill so they could do it all over again. 'I'm not going to lose to him again. I'll crush that stupid fucking king.'
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