Rookie Teammate

Damn!

Humphrey stopped, hands on his hips, panting like an old man as he watched the rookie pull farther and farther ahead, shrinking into the distance with every stride. Before he knew it, Lance had completely outpaced him. Humphrey was stunned, his confidence shattered.

Originally, he'd just wanted to mess with the rookie, but now—he'd lost it all, even his pride.

He wanted to curse out loud.

"Rookie! Where the hell did you come from? Are you some kind of freakin' monster?"

Lance approached, smiling brightly and full of energy, his eyes sparkling as he nodded. "Ah, you caught me. Actually, I'm Cthulhu. You guys better watch your Sanity scores at all times, or your lives might be in danger."

Humphrey froze, not knowing how to respond to Lance's deadpan delivery.

Slowly, he turned his head toward Clark, hoping for an explanation.

Clark was desperately holding back laughter, but with a straight face, he said, "Cthulhu... is from sci-fi mythology."

Humphrey shot him a dark look. "I know what Cthulhu is!" After a pause, he turned to Lance, still a bit unsure. "It's like... a vampire, right?"

Lance nodded sincerely, "Very close."

Humphrey straightened his posture, proud of himself. "See? I knew it." His voice got louder. "Rookie, where the heck have you been hiding? Coach said you're into combat sports, so sure, strength and explosive power I get, but how are you this fast at interval running? I'm not just any guy."

Clark nodded vigorously, "Marlon's a five-star recruit. Not for football, but for cross-country running."

Lance's eyes lit up—

A fellow runner!

Just like the NCAA has rankings, high schools also have competitive sports and training programs. Four major media outlets, including ESPN, evaluate and rank high school athletes annually, based on their physical abilities, personal skills, and game performance. The highest rank is five stars, the lowest is zero. These rankings are used as a reference for both colleges and professional leagues.

Lance hadn't expected to meet another cross-country runner at Alabama. It seemed he wasn't the first—or the last—athlete to switch sports.

Clark continued, "When Marlon was applying to colleges, countless schools made him offers. Besides our football team, he had offers from baseball, basketball, and cross-country programs. In our team, no one can beat him in interval running."

Ahem.

Clark paused, glanced at Lance, and added silently: Well, until now.

Lance caught Clark's look and returned a knowing nod, the two exchanging a silent agreement. Lance then turned to Humphrey—

Update: Dog-eating-dirt cornerback now renamed fellow runner cornerback.

"But seriously, with so many offers, why did you choose Alabama?" Lance was genuinely curious.

Humphrey puffed out his chest, not hiding his pride, and answered without hesitation, "Because the jerseys look cool."

Lance blinked, confused. "What?"

Humphrey repeated, "The jerseys look cool. Plus, the logo is awesome. It catches the girls' attention—see, I'm smart."

He then stood proudly, hands on his hips, laughing at his own cleverness.

Lance blinked again.

Sure, the color scheme wasn't bad—crimson jerseys with white pants—but, uh, football uniforms are pretty tight-fitting. How exactly does that attract girls?

Lance turned to Clark, "He's single, isn't he?"

Clark blurted out, "How did you know?!"

Humphrey's face turned dark. "You're the one who's single! Your whole family's single! I'm saving myself for my future wife, okay? Unlike you guys, I'm a man of faith, with principles. I'm a three-good man!"

"Three-good?" Lance raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious. "Faith and principles are two. What's the third?"

"..."

Watching Humphrey's smile freeze on his face, Lance nodded in satisfaction. Great, from now on, his label is three-good cornerback.

Ignoring the now awkwardly silent three-good cornerback, Lance turned to Clark and extended his hand, "Lance."

"Ronnie Clark. I'm a running back like you, though I'm just a backup. Actually... the fifth backup," Clark added, with a shy smile.

Currently, Clark was the team's second-string running back.

If not for the fact that three of the team's running backs had been injured recently, Clark wouldn't have even been in the lineup.

In fact, after two seasons on the team, Clark had yet to play in a single game—not even for one down.

Clark loved football. His whole family loved football, and they were die-hard fans of the Alabama Crimson Tide. From childhood, he had never missed a single Crimson Tide game. Despite his limited talent, Clark had always dreamed of joining the team.

Through hard work and perseverance, Clark's dream had come true. Even though he hadn't played in a game yet, he cherished every moment. Being part of the Crimson Tide, even as a backup player helping the starters in practice, was enough for him.

He was living his dream.

Of course, if—just if—one day he could wear the Crimson Tide jersey and step onto Bryant-Denny Stadium, that would be a dream come true.

But for now, it was just a hope, one he didn't dare ask for too much.

So, in Clark's mind, he and Lance were on the same level, if not worse. Based on yesterday's tryout, Lance had potential.

But Lance didn't seem to care about the pecking order. "Hey, you're the fifth backup, and I'm just the rookie—not even a backup yet. So I'd say you're ahead of me by a little."

As he said this, Lance playfully pinched his fingers together to show just how small the difference was.

Clark's smile brightened. Looking at Lance's sincere expression, Clark wanted to offer, "If you ever need help, just ask," but he swallowed the words shyly and simply smiled.

Lance patted Clark on the shoulder. "I see you're busy. Can I help out?"

Clark nodded quickly, "Of course, let's do it together. I'm just setting up the training equipment, nothing complicated. Marlon, you helping too?"

Humphrey didn't decline, though he was still lost in thought. After a long pause, he suddenly burst out, "Looks!"

Lance and Clark exchanged confused looks.

Humphrey waved his hands dramatically, "The third good thing—good looks!"

Lance blinked. "Remind me again, what were the three-good traits?"

Humphrey stared, speechless. Uh... I kinda made those up as I went along...

Lance burst out laughing. "Alright, Mr. Good-Looks, help us carry this stuff, would you?"

Humphrey stood there, baffled, but eventually shrugged and joined them in moving the equipment.

As more players trickled into the stadium, they naturally joined in, helping to set up the field.

Lance had assumed that this would be a freshman's job, a standard tradition in college football, but Clark explained that the Crimson Tide did things a little differently.

Technically, yes, it was the freshmen's duty, but they valued every second of practice time so much that whoever arrived first just started setting up to ensure they could begin training as soon as possible. It wasn't until after practice that the freshmen were required to pack everything up.

This small detail showed why the Crimson Tide had been one of the most competitive teams in the NCAA for so many years.

Even setting up the equipment felt like light strength training. These massive contraptions looked more like siege weapons than exercise gear.

Before practice had even begun, Lance was already getting a taste of how intense football training could be.