Chapter 23 You Are The Man

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As Jace stood back up, brushing the turf from his uniform, the stark reality of his predicament crystallized with each echoing cheer of the crowd and the sombre faces of his teammates. He could feel the weight of their expectations as if each glance added another pound to his already burdened shoulders.

The game resumed, but the dreamlike euphoria of playing in the Super Bowl had evaporated for Jace. Each snap became relentless as no matter what he tried reality found a way to knock him back to reality. The skill gap quickly became prevalent as passes flew wide and he crumbled in the pocket when his O line collapsed.

When he did try to scramble, he was quickly taught to behave by the Chief tight ends and linebackers who proceeded to sack him. His next passes—a desperate attempt to make up for the last—was picked off by a Chiefs cornerback who read his eyes like an open book. The interception was returned for a significant gain, setting up a touchdown for the opposing team. The scoreboard now screamed the disparity, 24:10 in favour of the Chiefs, like a taunt.

The faces around him quickly became blurry as he simply went through the motions utilising every trick in the book he could think of. "Reset, refocus," he muttered to himself as he jogged back onto the field. But confidence, once shattered, is like glass—difficult to piece back seamlessly. His subsequent drives were a series of missteps and misfires. Passes that should have been sharp and direct were hesitant, as he started to second guess himself.

This allowed defenders to easily break on the ball easily. Twice more his throws ended in the arms of the enemy, and the interceptions seemed to chain him down, each one a shackle tightening around his neck as his breathing became laboured. He felt like he was underwater with no one to rely on as no matter what he tried he couldn't dig himself out of the hole he found himself in.

The offensive line did what they could to protect their young quarterback, but the Chiefs' defence, smelling blood in the water, intensified their assault. Jace was sacked three times in quick succession. Each hit was a physical blow, sure, but it served more to make him feel isolated from his O-line as he subconsciously stopped trusting them.

The turf felt harder with each fall, the stadium lights brighter and more blinding, the roars of the crowd muddling his thoughts. With each drive, the realization sank in deeper he was out of his depth and the skill gap between an NFL player and a high school recruit was wider than he had ever imagined. This understanding was as harsh as the hits he absorbed and far more painful.

His ego the armour he had relied on to protect him ever since life decided to send him a curveball was blown open. His entire identity which was built upon his pride in his hard work and his abilities now seemed useless. As the fourth quarter ticked down, Jace's struggles on the field became a sombre ballet of defeat.

His uniform had now been dyed green resembling a Packer's uniform with grass stains and dirt. His helmet, a diary of hits taken, scuffed and scratched in various places. Each huddle was notably quieter than the last, the energy sapped, as they went through the motion knowing that the game was already lost. However, in the middle of the gloom with only 30 seconds to go something within him snapped.

He felt his heartbeat noticeably pick up in rhythm resounding loudly in his ears as his hands started to tremble lightly. Not out of anxiety or fear but out of anger and desire to as for the first time since his downward spiral his mind cleared. The Faces which had blurred now came back into focus as his green eyes emitted a glow as he eyed Everett calling out a play in the huddle.

"Hey," he found himself saying but it was too quiet for anyone to hear. "Hey! I'm still your QB, right?" he exclaimed now much louder immediately earning everyone's attention.

"I don't care about losing or how much I sucked today but I'm not leaving here without a touchdown." He stated with an anger-filled tone as the glow in his eyes intensified as his desire for glory bled through his being. "We're going for a Hail Mary, Blue Panther 88. Just make the run and the ball will be there even if I have to get run over to make the throw,"

Everett looked eyes with him not saying anything for a few seconds as the rest of the attacking lineup remained silent. "You're finally awake I see, hahaha, you heard your QB Blue Panther 88, let's go out with a bang." Everett clapped his hands, rallying the team, as they broke from the huddle and lined up for what would be one of the final plays of the Super Bowl. The Chiefs' defence, seemingly wanting to end this lined-up or a blitz adjusted their positions, ready to counter the Chargers' last effort.

Jace took his position behind the centre, his heart thundering in his chest, the noise of the crowd now a distant roar in his ears. He took a deep breath, feeling the crisp air fill his bruised lunges steeling himself for the play. His fingers brushed against his own hands as he decided to pinch himself letting the jolt of pain focus him.

"Blue Panther 88! Blue Panther 88! Set, HUT!" The ball snapped into his hands, and time seemed to slow for Jace. The defensive line surged like a tidal wave, but his offensive line, reinvigorated by his renewed vigour, held firm, giving him the pocket he needed. Jace stepped back, scanning the field as his receivers sprinted down towards the end zone.

They were on the 30-yard line meaning that they had a lot of room to run into if they managed to lose their man. The Chiefs' defence, who had anticipated a shorter play, was momentarily caught off guard by the deep routes. Jace saw his chance. He stepped up, ignoring the defender lunging at him as he kept his gaze ahead.

Stiff arming a lunging linebacker he barely glanced at him as he sidestepped only to instinctively roll to his right side. It was just in time as another Chies linebacker came charging past him only to be taken out by one of his blockers. Moving his hurt and tired legs he stepped out of the collapsing pocket as he drew back his arm causing the blue line which had been there for every throw to turn green.

Without hesitation, his arm shot forward putting every ounce of power and skill behind that throw as he ate another tackle from a Chiefs player. Despite being taken down his eyes remained on the ball he had just released, as he watched it trail a blaze along the green line. The football soared through the air, a perfect spiral cutting through the cold night like a comet.

Jace's body hit the ground with a thud, his helmet slamming against the turf, his vision blurring momentarily. He lay there, gasping for air, pain shooting through his body, but his eyes never left the ball. The stadium fell into a tense silence, every spectator holding their breath as the ball travelled towards the end zone.

On the giant screens, the slow-motion replay magnified every rotation of the football, the green line from Jace's vision seemingly superimposed onto reality as it traced the path towards glory. Everett, having shaken off his defender with a swift cut, sprinted towards the spot where the ball was predicted to land.

The Chiefs' safeties, realizing too late the real threat, scrambled to adjust their positions. The ball descended a hopeful arc against the dark sky, towards the outstretched hands of Everett. With a leap, Everett soared above the defenders. His hands met the ball at its highest point; fingers wrapping around the leather as if it were the most precious jewel. The crowd erupted as he secured the catch, tucking the ball safely as he came crashing down just inside the end zone.

Touchdown, Chargers. For a moment, everything else faded as Jaace revelled in the 70-yardard touchdown pass. The world around him started to blur as Jace muttered to himself. "You did it, you are the man, Jace," he whispered as his vision started to fade all the strength seeping from his body.

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To Be Continued...