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~~~
Dixon let out a low chuckle, finally breaking into a grin. "I like that." he laughed for a few more moments before suddenly getting serious. "I'll be honest, I see a lot of potential in you kid, your instincts are spot on and added to your physique that matches making you a dangerous running back."
After hearing him say so much a confident smirk started creeping its way onto Tariq's face only to be shattered the next second. "But all of that is wasted by your decision-making poor execution of mechanics and worse of all overreliance on your physical abilities." He paused after saying that match as he stared Tariq right in the face.
"I've watched some of your game tape and the common trait I can gather is that if not for your body's resilience you would be majorly injured and if you continue on that track, you will kill yourself on the field. In colleges, the kids are bigger than you, stronger than you, and hit harder than you."
Listening to Coach Mike list out all his faults rage and disappointment started to bubble up within him. He had tried his best; he would train as hard as he possibly could and then proceed to push that limit. Some days he could barely walk but would still drag his ass into the gym to get that work in. When other kids played video games, he was doing yoga or agility drills but listening to the coach in front of him all of that seemed to have been a waste of time.
His breathing became laboured as the images of his 3 younger sisters and brother flashed in front of his eyes. The image of his two brothers who were taken from him in their own ways, one in jail and the other dead. 'No, it can't end here, no matter what I can't let it end here.'
As he was in mental turmoil his gaze started to slowly focus as he listened to the accomplished coach in front of him. He wasn't going to blame the man in front of him, life had never been easy for him, and this was just another setback. All he could do was take in his criticism and work hard to turn them into his strengths.
"I'm sure you have heard this before but it's the cold hard truth and if you don't adapt your game, you will have a short and forgotten college career. After hearing all this I only have one question for you, how much do you want this?" Those final words startled him, to him, it sounded as if someone was asking a thirsty man whether he could use a drink.
"I don't want this Coach; I need this to work!" he responded with a determined gaze as he directly stood up knocking the chair he was seated on over. "There is no plan B for me, I need to be able to provide for myself and my family and football is the only thing I'm good at, but I want to be great. More than anything I need to be great at this."
Coach Mike matched his gaze looking into his eyes for a good minute as silence prevailed over the room with neither of them speaking. If a Gen-Z YouTuber were present, he wouldn't have hesitated to shout sus as two grown men stared intensely into each other's eyes with neither of them speaking. None of the two in the room cared though as they seemingly tried to read the other thoughts, but Coach Mike eventually broke the silence.
"Well, congratulations kid the Crimson Tides are officially offering you a full ride to play football for us," The old man stated with a bright smile as he proceeded to pull out an envelope from his desk drawer. "Head Coach Nick is also excited to have you but I wanted to be the one to officially invite you."
Tariq's trembling hands reached out to grasp the letter not saying a word as he looked at the Red A logo. Tears quickly streamed from his eyes staining the envelope as a tide of joy washed over his shoulder. The burden he had been carrying now seemed to become a little lighter. "Thank you, coach I will do whatever you need me to do to get better and contribute to the tides, you won't regret this decision."
"I know I won't congratulations," Mike said with a smile as he reached out to shake his hand only to be pulled into a half hug by the still-crying Tariq. "You have earned this, enjoy the moment and be ready to get to work when you reach Alabama."
"I will you won't be disappointed," Tariq said again as they separated as he sheepishly wiped his tears.
"By the way, you should probably thank that kid playing quarterback for you, from the tape I've seen, he would pick the best running play that allowed you to break through the defence. Whenever someone troublesome was on the opposing side he would change the angle of your run or instruct one of your blockers to take him out for you. Honestly, if he had played more this season your ranking would have risen to at least a 4-star recruit as most of your flaws became more exposed with that freshman quarterback." Mike off-handedly commented letting Tariq know where most of his observations came from.
~~~
[USC, 17:25]
Jace ran a hand through his Afro as he leaned back slightly in his chair, listening to the USC recruiter, a sharp-eyed man with a deep tan and salt-and-pepper hair, flip through his notes. He had the air of someone who had seen a thousand kids sit in this exact chair, and only a handful had ever truly impressed him.
"So, Jace," the recruiter began, looking up at him with a smirk, "you've got the arm, you've got the legs, and from what I've heard, you've got the leadership qualities to command a huddle. But let's cut the crap—what happens when you're in the huddle, the clock's ticking and one of your receivers is visibly shaken? Maybe he just dropped a big pass. Maybe he's rattled after taking a big hit. What do you do?"
Jace didn't hesitate. "I look him dead in the eyes and ask him why he played the game, no matter the answer I will tell him that it's on him to make the game-winning catch, so he better fight like hell to get open. I'd say to him 'whether you get open or not the ball is coming your way, look around all our dreams are on your back and it's time for you to carry us across that line."
The recruiter was taken back at how quickly Jace's intensity shifted but before he could say anything Jace continued. "I promise you no matter what was troubling the boy he will fight run through Goliath, fight the bogeyman, and wrestle a tiger if it means he gets to make that catch."
The USC recruiter leaned back in his chair, impressed but clearly measuring Jace's response. His fingers tapped lightly against the table as he studied the quarterback in front of him. "That's a swing for the fence's response if I ever heard one," he said finally, a smirk curling on his lips. "You think every receiver is built like that? You really believe you can reach every one of them with that kind of speech?"
Jace didn't miss a beat. "Nah, I know I can't reach all of them," he admitted with a casual shrug, his confidence unwavering. "Some dudes fold under pressure no matter what you tell 'em. But if I don't try, I'm already failing them as a leader. I need them to believe in themselves as much as I believe in myself to deliver them the ball. Because if they do—" he leaned forward slightly, voice steady, "—we're winning that game and every other damn game."
The recruiter let out a short chuckle, shaking his head. "I like you, kid. You've got that dog in you. But let me hit you with something different." He crossed his arms and fixed Jace with a knowing look. "Say you come into USC as a freshman. You're not starting right away. You're backing up a guy who's been here two years, has the experience, knows the system. He gets all the first-team reps. You're stuck behind him, barely seeing the field. How do you handle it?"
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To Be Continued...