Chapter 43

All that week and early into the next, we worked hard getting ready for the big game, it was as if we had new life. Being the defending World Champions the pressure would be on us, but with that said, we were still only two point favorites to win the game. By the time the week of the game had rolled around, the odds had dropped to dead even, the experts figured it could be anyone’s game.

We left for Arizona on Tuesday, Alexis would fly in Friday night after work. Alexis had spoken to Ashley late in the week, she unfortunately couldn’t attend due to problems with her schedule at school. We were settled into our hotel on Tuesday evening, then given the night off, we would practice early in the morning.

We practiced both Wednesday morning, then Thursday evening alternating with our opponent, leading up to Friday’s Media Day, which was always a circus. The city was packed with fans, you couldn’t walk five feet out of the hotel lobby door without being surrounded by fans seeking autographs. We arrived at the arena around ten in the morning, we had a complete schedule of events that would take us late into the afternoon. I had no sooner entered the arena when a young man from a national TV affiliate came up to me asking for an interview. I followed him to the booth where his crew was set up, a very attractive young reporter was behind the news desk. I was ushered into the chair next to her, the crew scrabbled, within minutes the camera operator was pointing at her.

“Good morning, this is Pam Morgan and I’m here with Brian Stevens, the extremely talented tight end from San Diego. Thank you for joining me Brian, how are you today?” she started.

“I’m fine. Thank you for having me.” I replied.

“Brian, you guys haven’t had the magical season you had last year. You personally dealt with a possible career ending injury earlier this year. How does it feel to be sitting here today?” she inquired.

“Really strange Pam, it’s been an up and down year for us. We haven’t always played to the level we wanted to, but still here we are. This team is probably better than last year’s team that won this thing, but for some reason, we have struggled more this year.” I answered.

“You’re in an option year, has the team started any talks about locking you up long term?” she asked.

“Actually yes, my agent has entered into talks with the team, we are hoping to get a long term deal signed, I really want to stay with this team.” I responded.

“I have heard some teams may be interested in tossing huge amounts of money at you. What would it take to get you to leave San Diego?” she said.

“I leave those things to my agent, Pam.” I answered.

“You’re wife is your agent is she not?” she laughed.

“Yes she is, that’s why I keep my mouth shut.” I laughed back.

Everyone on the set laughed at my comment, I guess it was an odd situation to say the least.

“Brian, we have heard Steve Tillman, the Green Bay Defensive Coordinator, state he’s not going to let you and Scott Douglas beat him. He has emphasized that he will pay particular attention to both of you. In fact, some of the defensive players have came right out and said, they will be looking for you. Any comment?” she asked, trying to get a reaction from me.

“Well I can’t speak for Scott Douglas, but I’m almost six foot seven, two hundred sixty five pounds. They won’t have to look hard to find me.” I replied.

“Everyone is pointing to the matchup between you and Greg Jackson, the very talented free safety from Green Bay. He’s one of the most physical defensive backs in the league, he’s also one of the most vocal. He has already promised to introduce himself to you early in the game.” she ended.

“That’s fine Pam, he’s entitled to his opinion. I’m playing with the best quarterback in the league in Josh Henson, I’m not worried.” I answered.

We finished up the interview and I moved on to another set. It seemed the recurring theme of every interview was based on the talk that was coming from our opponents camp. Scott and I would be targeted, shut down so to speak. As I was waiting to be interviewed for the last time, I noticed they had Greg Jackson in the chair before me. I noticed that he was smiling and nodding his head in my direction as he answered questions. I turned and ignored him, waiting for him to finish. As he got up and took off his microphone, I walked past him to sit in the chair he had just gotten up from. Once again, he had this idiotic smile on his face, nodding his head up and down in my direction.

“Enjoy it baby, it’s all downhill from here.” he laughed.

“Now I’m frightened.” I replied quickly, laughing.

“Damn right you are man, you should be, you’re gonna get hurt.” he shot back.

“I won’t be hard to find, boy.” I responded.

Quickly members of the production crew stepped between us, pushing him off and out the tent, trying to calm him down. I sat down in the chair, connected the microphone and turned to the commentator who was still trying to take in what had just happened.

“Seems you two are ready for war?” he asked.

“It’s all trash, Sunday is all that matters.” I answered.

I finished up the interview, with basically all the same questions being asked again, it was like an old movie that you had seen several times before. We left the arena a little after three in the evening, heading straight back to the hotel. Alexis arrived that night, we had dinner together, then spent a little quiet time in her room.

The game was scheduled to start at 3:30 in the evening, we arrived at the stadium just after ten. I dressed in shorts and a compression tee shirt, grabbed several pair of shoes, then head out to the field. I went through my normal two hour ritual warming up, running then trying different shoes on the synthetic turfs, trying to find the right shoe. I entered our locker room right after noon and hit the trainer’s table to get taped up. I then dressed in my game pants and jersey, then headed back out on the field for team warmup’s.

We were sitting in the locker room about a half hour before game time, I was in a corner alone, my eyes closed. For some reason I was thinking of Courtney, I couldn’t get her out of my head. I was thinking back to the day I was drafted, the party on her parent’s patio. How excited she was for me, when San Diego finally called me name. I wondered how different my life would be had she not gotten sick, where would the two of us be right now? I was jolted back to reality by the sound of the entire team moving towards the tunnel, the introductions were about to begin.

We won the toss and elected to receive the ball first, both teams lined up for the kick off. After a long kickoff and a touchback, the ball was placed on our twenty yard line. Josh knelt in the huddle, he was in full command, his voice clear and crisp.

“I’ve heard nothing but fucking shit from this defense all week. Let’s stick it in them and break it off early.” he growled.

“Power left, 56 toss on three.” he barked.

We broke the huddle and lined up in a standard running formation, one receiver on each side of the formation, I was lined up tight next to our right tackle. As Josh began to call cadence, their defense shifted into a run blitz, bringing eight men to the line of scrimmage. They were covering our wide outs man on man, Greg Jackson was lined up maybe five yards down the field, directly across from me.

“Kill, Kill, Kill, 17 Go, Omaha, 17 Go, Omaha.” Josh called out, changing the play.

We were using our number signals, combined with city names in this audible package. I was number eighty nine, eight plus seven was seventeen, I was the primary target on this route. Omaha was a northern city which meant I was going on a deep seam route. I wanted to laugh as I looked back at Josh, he was going at Jackson on the first play. The ball was snapped, I came off the line at half speed colliding with my opponent maybe seven yards down the field. I could see he was going to try and chuck me high under the pads, so just a split second before contact I lowered my upper body. He lifted both hands to contact my shoulder pads, but with my head down, one hand missed badly, going off my helmet, causing him to stumble slightly. With my left hand inside of our bodies, I pushed off and accelerated up the field, using the hash marks as a target. Josh had seen the mistake immediately, but he was holding on to the ball as long as possible. Jackson was frantically trying to close the gap, but it wouldn’t be in time. Josh launched the ball, it was dead on the hash marks, I never missed a stride. I pulled the ball in somewhere around their forty five yard line and was inside the ten before Jackson and one of their other corner backs ran me down. As we unpiled I could tell he was livid, now was my chance to really get in his head.

“You’re right, that was all downhill.” I laughed at him.

“Fuck you eight nine, you won’t get another one.” he shouted, pushing me in the chest.

I laughed at him once again, then trotted back to the huddle. Josh slapped me on the helmet as I leaned over.

“Big catch baby, way to get it started.” he shouted.

“I want this fucker Josh, let’s clean his clock early.” I urged.

“Split right, Scat Right, 639 Y, Power Right Angle”, Josh called, “It’s Hyper Dunk time baby.”

This play was designed as a simple corner fade, I would simply hold the block on the linebacker for a second or two, then head right to the back right hand corner of the end zone. Josh would just throw the ball up, depending on the coverage, either to the pylon, or my back shoulder, whatever was open. I sensed that Jackson would try and immediately settle the score, he was that emotional of a player.

We lined up again in our power formation, two receivers one on each side, with me next to the left tackle this time. They were in a standard zone under, man over package. They were crowding the line with players again, matching up man on the outside.

On the first number called, I went in motion to my right, lining up in the slot, between the right tackle and the wide receiver. As thought, Jackson slid over in my direction, at least looking like he was matching me man to man. On the snap, I came off inside first, then broke hard to the right corner pylon. Josh and I had run this pattern so many times, we could probably both do it blindfolded. As I accelerated to the corner, I knew the ball was already coming. I snapped my head back and there it was, high and on my outside shoulder. I went up with Jackson on my back, made the catch then landed with both feet in bounds before he pushed me out. I jumped up quickly, the ball in my hand and started towards the goal post. After being beat twice in as many plays, he was not in the mood for me show boating. He blocked my path quickly, squaring up with me chest to chest. I went to step around him but he quickly stepped with me, trying to stay between me and the goal. By then two of our offensive lineman showed up and pushed him aside, slapping my back.

“This is for you baby.” I yelled at him.

I accelerated towards the goal post, planted my feet and elevated as high as I ever had, slamming the ball down over the goal post with tremendous force. I headed to the sideline, where everyone was still celebrating our quick score.

Coach Reed met me at midfield, one arm around my shoulder, shaking me.

“You’re money baby, you never let me down son.” he shouted.

I sat down on the end of the bench, taking a water bottle with me. We had just covered eighty yards in two plays, there was still 13:56 left in the first quarter, we already had a 7-0 lead. Josh fell on the bench next to me, he was all smiles as he looked my way.

“That motherfucker is out of control HD. He’s going to have a long day, you got him psyched.” he laughed.

Josh was on the headset listening to Coach Cullen who was upstairs in the press box. They were going over a series of plays that we would run on the next possession, both of them going back and forth with each other. Sometimes the two of them reminded me of an old married couple with all of the arguing. Suddenly the crowd erupted in an roar, one that I had come to learn meant something big was happening. I got up and scanned the field just in time to see our defense celebrating, running off the field. I looked up at one of the giant screens directly across from where I was sitting. The replay showed our linebacker Sam Watkins stripping the ball from their running back, then falling on it himself giving us the ball inside of their thirty yard line. The offense jumped up and headed back on the field, we were in business again. After the television time up, the referee blew his whistle, Josh knelt down in the huddle.

“Double Slant, Max Protect, Hot Read on three. I’ll call the route at the line.” he shouted.

Josh was in one of his zones, he was going for kill right away. He was going to go at the weakest corner in an iso move right away. He simply had to scan the field, to see who was matched on whom. I trotted out to the left slot as usual, surprised to see Greg Jackson, once again matching up on me man to man. I looked to my left and saw Nate Collins the rookie lined up on my outside shoulder, he looked like a deer in the head lights. I smiled and nodded at him, he smiled back weakly, I knew what he was thinking.

“Blue fifty eight, Iso sixteen, Tulsa, Iso sixteen Tulsa.” he called.

I put my head down and smiled, sixteen, double eights, Nate’s number was being called. He was going to run a mid range post right across the middle. I was going to drag out under him, working the sideline in case he was covered. The ball was snapped, we came off hard together. Nate broke his route off at eight yards, the ball was already in the air. He plucked it clean with both hands extended from his body as he had been taught. He side stepped one tackle, then accelerated up the field, finally being tackled at the eleven yard line. He was all smiles as he came back to the huddle, you could see relief on his face.

“Good one Nate.” I said, slamming my fist into his upper pads.

“Thanks man.” he replied.

“Ok here we go, Power Left, Scat Right, Dive Left, Option Pitch Right.” he called.

This was a play we rarely used, but if it was run right and the defense bit early, it worked. We would line up one receiver to the right, I would line up tight next to the left tackle. Josh would be under center, with both running backs in an I formation behind him. On the snap, everyone would zone block down to the left. Josh would open up to his left and face the fullback who would be coming right at him. Scott Douglas would delay for a full second, then break hard to the right way from everyone. Josh would then flip the ball like an option read ahead of Scott, who was running naked to the right.

The play worked perfectly, the entire defense bit going left. By the time Scott gathered in the pitch from Josh he only had one man between him and the goal line. Trying to tackle Scott in the open field was next to impossible, much less after he had a full head of steam. He made one one fake to the inside freezing the defensive back in his tracks then practically walked into the end zone. As we sat down on the bench once again, I looked at the clock. There was a little over ten minutes left in the first half, we were already up 14-0, this was unbelievable.

Once again we were on the sideline scheming plays for our next possession. But this time our opponent went on a long sustained drive, scoring with just a few minutes left in first quarter, cutting our lead to 14-7. Once again we started our drive from our own twenty yard line, Josh determined to get the touchdown back as soon as possible.

“Overload Left, Double Cross, Max Protect, Circle Right on Two.” he called.

Seven plays later, we were inside of their thirty attempting to score again. After two short runs, we were facing third and six, at the twenty four yard line. He called a quick slant to Nate Collins who lined up on the left side. It was a five yard pattern, should be easy enough to convert. They made an excellent adjustment on the snap moving up to jam Nate on the line of scrimmage. I was running a delayed out then stop and run across the field trying to slide either under or over the safety who had deep responsibility. I saw Josh scramble out of the pocket moving to his right, just as I was. I saw what appeared to be a soft spot in the coverage so I moved up towards the area. Josh threw the ball on a dead run, it was high, really high. I went up to get it, but realized right away, I had no chance. I was on the way down, when I felt the impact rock me, slamming me straight back to the turf. I laid there for a second, everything was spinning, my ears were ringing. As I went to get up, I saw the yellow flag had been thrown right at my feet. Their safety Greg Jackson was pleading his case to the official a few yards away. I got up to one knee as the trainers were talking to me, trying to make sure I was ok. I stood up with a bit of assistance, then slowly walked off the field under my own power. I heard the referee on the microphone just as I got to the sidelines.

“Personal foul on the defense, number 41, contact with a defenceless receiver. The result of the penalty will result in a ... first down.” he announced.

They marched off the penalty as I was led over to the bench to sit down. I was handed a drink, I took a long gulp, then threw the rest on my face. As I looked up at the screen, I saw just how brutal the hit was. They kept replaying it over and over. There was no doubt, he was looking for a knock out hit, he went in helmet first to my head. Score one for him I thought to myself, he took a big step to getting us back on a level field. Three plays later we kicked a field goal extending our lead to 17-7.

As the defense took the field, first Josh came over and checked on me. Right behind him was Nate Collins, the rookie. He looked like he had seen a ghost.

“Are you ok, man? Jesus that was fucking brutal.” he said, kneeling in front of me.

“I’m ok man, thanks.” I replied, slapping his shoulder pads.

On our next offensive possession I took the field, getting into the huddle, the ball was on our own thirty six. After a draw play and a quick screen pass, we crossed mid field, we were in sync again.

“Overload right, Y Weak Cross, Double Post Right, 89 Wheel Left, Waggle on two.” Josh shouted.

This was one of my favorite plays, I got to run a wheel route after a delay, hopefully isolating myself on a linebacker along the sideline. I was the third read, but if I got open, it was usually for a nice gain. The ball was snapped, I dropped into pass coverage, chipping the defensive end with our left tackle, all the while watching the Will Linebacker. He started to rush a few steps, then back peddled, watching Josh’s eyes. At the count of three, I released the end and broke up field, five yards then cut out hard to the sidelines. The linebacker saw me maybe three steps too late, he was in trouble. As soon as I hit the hash marks, I turned up field looking the ball. Josh saw me late and put way too much air on the ball. I had to slow up and wait on it, giving the defender a chance to catch me from behind at the twenty four yard line. Once again, I took a pretty good hit on the sideline driving me out of bounds. As I got up and headed back to the huddle, their corner back was jawing in my direction after his hit.

“Come on boy, I got a lotta more for your ass.” he shouted.

I simply shook my head running back to the huddle. No matter what profession you were in, no matter how much money was paid, there were always going to be ignorant people. We’re up by ten and driving again and this asshole is talking smack. We picked up another first down on the eight yard line, it was first and goal. We ran an off tackle play first, then a delayed trap getting the ball to the three yard line. On third down, Josh threw a pretty good pass to Nate Collins in the end zone, he just couldn’t hold on to it. Coach Reed took a time out immediately, discussing the possibility of going for it on fourth down. It was a two possession game at this time, a field goal would still only make it a two possession game. But a touchdown here would really make a statement going into halftime.

I watched the discussion between Josh, Coach Reed and Coach Cullen intently. I could see Josh pleading his case with passion. Finally I saw Coach Reed nod to him, I knew he had won. He trotted back on the field with a confident look on his face. He knelt down in the huddle and called the play, one we had used only once this year.

“Power Left, Max Protect, Delay Giant Slide Right, on three.” he called.

We were going to run a pass play, to our fullback, who would go in motion to the right. He would then come off to the goal line, cut out hard, the ball would be thrown immediately. If the timing was right, it was impossible to defend, but timing was everything.

“Blue Seventy Two, Blue Seventy Two ... Fifty Eight ... Fifty Eight ... Hut, Hut... “ Josh started.

Because he was so good at voice inflection, we would call a double quick count like this trying to get someone to jump offsides. Unfortunately before Josh could finish our right guard flinched, causing the flags to fly.

“False Start, Number Seventy Two on the Offense, Five Yard Penalty, it’s still Fourth Down.” barked the official.

We turned to the sidelines to see the field goal unit running on the field, we had blew it. Coach Reed wasn’t going to gamble on a fourth and goal from just outside the eight. As we trotted off, I slapped our big offensive guard, Max Brown, who had just moved on the back.