Westbrook Academy for Metahumans: Forums

PRE-GAME

The stadium lights flicked on, the crowd letting loose with a thundering roar that matched the feelings of those waiting to take to the field. The Spartans came out first. The Mustangs could see their red and gold flag flying and hear mixed cheers from the crowd as the rival team made their way to the sidelines. Finally it was time. The Mustang football team batted helmets, slapped shoulder pads and in general made a lot of noise. The bandstand band was on their feet, the cheer squad was rallying the maroon and grey side of the crowd, until finally the voice came over the loud speaker:

"Ladies and Gentlemen! Your Westbrook MUSTANGS!"

Chase Masters was the first on the field followed closely by Guillermo Espinosa while the cheerleaders waved their pom-poms and shouted loud enough to be heard over the din. Wyatt Wyborn clapped his hands with a plastered on grin while Ar tumbled down the sidelines in rapid flip-flop succession. The crowd was on their feet, the marching band playing the “Hail to the Victors” following the ‘play so loud people think you’re good’ rule of thumb.

The rest of the players formed two lines, hand slapping their teammates as they ran through the gauntlet. Quatertback Henry Hawkins and Coach TJ Armstrong were the last ones through.

"LET'S SHOW THEM SOME FOOTBALL!" He shouted before giving a few short blasts of his whistle. The team huddled around him, raising their hands in the air towards the center, joining in with their own chant.

"BEAT DELMONT! BEAT DELMONT! BREAK!"

"Come on MUSTANGS!" The stadium was packed. Nearly everyone from the school was in the stands, stomping their feet and screaming. One particular section, filled with students decked out in maroon and gray, yelled the loudest. The team catered to them, pointing and waving at friends in the crowd. Recent graduates and alumni had their own section as well, the college set and beyond bringing a little extra rowdiness to the crowd, while the cheer squad did their best to give everyone reason to cheer Mia Cobol was back on the field along with newcomer Jeanette Ellis, Sondra Blake’s hair was in two perfect donuts atop her head and Lauren Lombardi waved to her parents in the stands. Peyton Meredith took a moment to breathe it all in, looking around the stands at the crowd and the team. This was it. Homecoming.

The enthusiasm was quieted a bit when the announcer called the name of the school’s rivals.

“YOUR DELMONT SPARTANS!”

The Spartans cheer squad held a large banner stating "BEAT THE DEAD HORSES! HERE COMES THE WINNING TEAM!” But the Spartans didn't run onto the field. They marched. They tore through the paper banner holding their helmets up high as if they'd already won the game. The Delmont crowd was on their feet, stomping and yelling for their team. The Mustangs watched the meant-to-intimidate display with disdain, rolling their eyes and thumping each other on the shoulder pads to stay psyched up.

“We got this!” Espinosa called out. “The Spartans are going down!”

Coming off the bus that afternoon, Brodi walked down the line of band members as they readied their equipment. Eddie was looking around as if a little lost. Faige watched Brodi approach him but the general noise was so loud that she couldn't hear the conversation.

Brodi ran over to her, hat under his arm and quickly explained that Eddie's tuba had been left on campus, not really making any reference to the who-dun-it but Faige could gather by the sheepish look on Jitters' face that it likely had something to do with him. The feathered hat was passed to her as Brodi returned to campus for the tuba. The band was now Faige's charge.

Placing the hat carefully on her head she turned to face her band mates. "It's a big game guys, we gotta really rock it out. We've been practicing hard all week and I'm totally proud of you all. Don't worry, we'll get that tuba back before halftime. Hands in the middle!"

It was a silly thing, but Faige felt it made them feel like more of a team. Everyone made their way over and put their hands on hers (including three of Frankie Russo's six) and Faige muttered "one, two, three" before everyone in the group said "Westbrook Bandstand!"

They headed out to take their seats beside the field, readying for their first song. Eddie was in the back, playing "supporting triangle" for now. Still, they did a pretty decent job of it.

Lark checked water bottles; tucking her clipboard underneath her arm as she followed the players out from the bus towards the field. She still wore Matt’s letter jacket; she even managed to find a skirt in Westbrook colors somewhere from the bottom of her closet and despite them not matching her outfit she chose to wear the earrings he’d gotten her. It seemed like a good luck thing.

“Go get ‘em, Tiger.”

She leaned over to give Matt a kiss on the cheek before he put on his helmet and took the field to run in with the others, smiling brightly at him as she clap-rallied with the rest of the team as they headed out onto the field.

“Don’t even think about the kiss, Masters. Go on, get out there and show everyone that you’re as good as you say you are.” She gave him a slap on the shoulder before heading over to make sure that the rest of the equipment was ready.

Mia grinned as widely as she could, cheering as the team ran out. But the smile never quite reached her eyes.

I can do this. Peppy. Smile. Drink a Sun Drop if the pep runs out. She stood next to Wyatt and Peyton, cupping her hands around her mouth and letting out a "Go Mustangs!" to the crowd. She waved her arms to direct the crowd to respond.

I can do this.

Espy thumped helmets with Chase before speaking to the rest of the huddle.

"Alright men! This is it! This is our house, our field, our game. If we lose, we're not only letting down ourselves, but we're letting down our entire school! We ‘re here today for one reason and one reason only! We’re here to win! Warriors are built through pain and perseverance! We are warriors! We hold the key to our own glory, our own destiny! Chase, take us out!”

The team put their hands in the middle, some pumped up, some nervous as Chase gave the final chant.

“Whaaaat are we gonna do?” yelled Chase Masters.

“WIN! WIN! WIN!”

“I CAN’T HERE YOU! I SAID WHAT ARE WE GONNA DO?”

“WIN! WIN! WIN!”

Espy came out of the huddle absolutely fired up. All the anger, all the emotion he had felt was sure to be left on the field today. He wasn't going to waste it. He muttered under his breath.

"Time to kick some fucking Spartan ass."

Sondra jumped and cheered, waving her pom poms and shouting encouragement as the team ran on to the field. She saved her biggest cheer for JD of course, pausing afterward to blow him a kiss.

FIRST QUARTER


The fact that the Spartans won the toss-up didn't do much to help morale, but Henry Hawkins wished them luck all the same. The Delmont quarterback reluctantly shook Hawkins hand, telling him that luck was for losers. Hawkins took it in stride. The Mustangs were fired up, most having stayed at afternoon practice well until dark practicing up on drills. Most of them converged during lunch hour and study halls to memorize the new calls. Coach Armstrong knew they were ready.

Diya Behari was sorely missed. She sat in her uniform sans pads on the sidelines, and watched as the Spartans took Cody Ward’s opening kickoff and putting together an impressive 80 yard drive that bit up a large chunk of the first quarter clock. The Spartan’s quarterback threw three passes, completing all of them. The Mustangs defensive line cursed as linemen once again took Espinosa down early on. Peyton thought she saw a smirk cross Wyatt’s face on the third hit, but any fleeting anger was quickly replaced with worry for the team. “One person does not make a defensive line!” Coach Armstrong yelled. “Let’s see some work out there defense!” He clapped his hands together and turned his attention back towards the game.

The Spartans final 35 yard pass placed the ball at the Mustang's 10, where the receiver was taken down by Espinosa. Two attempts to move the ball on the ground actually lost a few yards, but the Spartans weren't done. The quarterback lined up and flicked the ball to his halfback, and the Spartan crowd groaned when he was pushed out of bounds by Shanna Lasseter. It brought up a fourth-and-goal from the three yardline, but Delmont was confident in their offensive line. The Spartan quarterback waved off his kicker, lining up in a short-yardage formation.

“Sugar and cream, sugar and cream, what's the matter with the other team?
Nothing at all, nothing at all, they just can’t play football!” Delmont’s cheer squad taunted.

Shanna Lasseter and Derrick Cork stood ready, flexing their muscles and gritting their teeth against their mouthguards. Guillermo Espinosa shifted his eyes around the line. He knew the formation. The quarterback would likely fake hand-off and run it in himself. He heard he was a bit of a show-stealer, Spartans #1 would take any opportunity he could to cross the end-zone himself. He kept his eyes trained on him. Delmont’s center handed the ball back, and the quarterback spun to hand off to his fullback. Espy ignored the fake and headed for the quarterback, taking him down just shy of the one yard line.

The Mustang crowd was on their feet.

“E-S-P-Y! Hit them hard and make them cry!” Most of the cheer squad called out. Wyatt Wyborn smiled, but inside? He seethed.

“Up...up...
Down...down...
We don't get pushed around,
Go, Mustangs, go! Go Mustangs, Go!”

But even with the cheers and trying their hardest, Delmont’s defense was just too intense. Two failed pass attempts lead Hawkins to try keep the ball on the ground, only to be blitzed by the Spartan’s Center. The Spartan’s defensive line chest-bumped to celebrate, one of them - Max Connors making an over-exaggerated gesture of notching his belt to the Mustang’s crowd.

Delmont called for passing play attempt, and the quarterback connected this time as once again Espinosa was kept busy. The offensive line boxed in the smaller, faster defensive players while their tight end snaked through the line, but Espinosa broke free and was hot on his tail. The wiry Spartan tight end was fast, one of the fastest the Spartans had to offer, and Espy made a last ditch diving attempt to keep the boy out of the end zone. The crowd stood on their feet as he connected, holding their breath waiting for the call. Guillermo knew it before they had, The Spartan’s knee went down across the goal line. He’d made it in. The Spartan team held their hands up victoriously as the ref made the call, some flipping off the Westbrook crowd, others high-fiving and over-celebrating. The Spartan’s kicker took the field, and despite being pressured by Derrick Cork, he managed to make the extra kick good.

As the clock ran out, the Mustangs were down by 7 points.


FIRST QUARTER SCORE: MUSTANGS 0, SPARTANS 7

"Shake it off Espy, we'll get 'em. Push 'em hard and make that Quarterback fear you. Mustang Pride." Chase grunted to the large defender, slamming his helmet against the larger boy's. "I'll get us caught up. You keep 'em behind that line."

Espy made his way to the sideline and tossed his helmet in disgust. He curled his fist and looked to the sky, letting out a frustrated, almost blood-curdling scream. In his mind, he should have made that last tackle. An 80 drive to take the whole quarter? They were controlling the pace of the game. This was Mustangs football, not Spartans football.

As he stomped a gatorade bottle flat, Cork looked at him, ready to open his mouth. One look from Espy, and he could tell that he meant business.

Coach Armstrong loved the passion, but he didn't want Espy getting too out of hand.

"Head in the game Espinosa!"

"Yes sir!"

Mia winced with each hit, going through the motions of the cheers. Guillermo was off his game, it didn't take a blind person to see that. She clapped as the defense ran off the field, yelling along with her squad mates. "Come on, Mustangs! You got this!"