# October 31, 2016
#-1. Oahu, Hawaii
#-2. Honolulu, Kahuku CDP
#-3. Kahuku High School
#-4. Football Field, Locker Room
Last Friday, as expected, we rose to the top of OIA BLUE. Now, we face the final tournament.
The Open Division Tournament.
This is where the four top-performing teams from the three divisions in Hawaii compete to determine the state's ultimate winner. On the 11th of next month, our opponent will be Kapolei High School from Honolulu. They are in OIA Division 2 and are considered the weakest among the qualifying teams. A smooth victory is expected.
Because of that, we aren't preparing for Kapolei; we're already preparing for the team we'll meet in the finals: St. Louis.
"We have to watch out for this guy!"
"...."
"Tua Tagovailoa. Also known as TT."
TT. Tua Tagovailoa is the best quarterback in Hawaii. Originally from Ewa, near Honolulu, he comes from a family where his grandfather, Seu Tagovailoa, was highly respected in the local Samoan community. Seu passed away two years ago from a chronic illness, but the family name carries weight.
Tua is incredibly famous in Honolulu, both for his talent and his lineage. And as if to prove his reputation as Hawaii's top QB, the TT on the screen was making some very impressive plays.
"He's good."
"Tell me about it."
"His throwing is one thing, but..."
"He's fast." "Moi."
"Yes, sir."
"What do you see?"
Actually, the guys who should be racking their brains right now are the defensive line. But the coach wanted my opinion. I watched the screen for a moment and then checked the stat sheet.
9 games, all starts. 21 touchdown passes. 2,208 passing yards. 89 rushing attempts, 597 yards, and 6 rushing touchdowns.
By the numbers, he's a classic dual-threat. But my impression was different.
"I think TT is a pocket passer."
"Really?"
"Yes. But it looks like he doesn't really like throwing deep. Either his arm is weak, or he's just not comfortable with it."
"Hmm. Anyone else have a thought?"
"...."
"...."
Naturally(?), my teammates remained silent. After a moment, the coach nodded.
"Moi just pointed out something very sharp."
Just as we are the dominant team in our division, St. Louis is the same in theirs. When you only watch highlight reels like this, the true essence can be cleverly hidden. On screen, the St. Louis QB looks like a great runner, but his movements aren't actually that agile. Plus, he has a fear of being tackled. He slides or goes down on his own before the hit comes.
Looking at that, there's no way he's a true dual-threat. A "golden boy" protected by his O-line—a pocket passer is the reality of TT. Our D-line needs to exploit this. TT's weakness is out in the open.
During the meeting, I glanced over at the D-line. Sioele was looking my way too.
What are you looking at, punk? Just do your job.
"Alright. Let's call it a day."
The team meeting ended in about 40 minutes. Tension was visible on my teammates' faces as they walked out. St. Louis is strong, even without TT. Their overall level is definitely higher than ours.
"Dammit. I lost my confidence."
"Did you forget what I said before?"
"Huh?"
"That they're just high schoolers, same as us." "Yeah, same high schoolers. It's just that they're way better at football. You saw the video."
It was a pity to see the confidence they gained from the Bishop Gorman game fading. But it's unavoidable. That's just how normal high schoolers are. Expecting a professional level of mental toughness is asking too much.
Because of this, the task ahead is clear.
Besides the tactical prep, I need to boost their confidence. In the end, it all comes down to training. The only thing an athlete can trust is sweat.
"Moi."
"Yeah?"
As I was leaving the locker room for the dorms, someone called my name. I turned to see a familiar face: Christopher Turiloa, the team's starting Linebacker (LB).
"What's up?"
"Can we talk for a sec?"
"If Sioele is trying to pick another fight, I'll pass."
"It's not that."
"Then what?"
Christopher tilted his head to the side, signaling me to follow. Usually, when the D-line guys wanted to talk, it was because Sioele wanted to start something. I hesitated for a moment, but decided it was right to go. If Sioele tried to start shit, I'd just handle him like usual: a bit of sarcasm, ignoring him, and showing off my power as the QB.
Christopher stopped at the space used for D-line meetings.
"Come in."
"...."
I walked in boldly, not showing any fear. Christopher followed me in.
Click.
The door closed. Christopher walked past me toward the group and then turned around.
"Let us in too."
"...On what?"
"What you and the other guys are doing. The weight training, the meetings. Let us in from now on."
Letting them in isn't hard, but isn't there something we need to settle first?
"Sioele doesn't matter."
"Are you serious?"
"The St. Louis game is huge for us. More than half the guys here are seniors. If we beat St. Louis and become state champs, we could get Division 1 scholarship offers."
I knew it from the start, but Sioele's grip on the team was weak. The fact that Kaluna and Loto were already with me was proof. He couldn't control the team, or even his own family. His skills as a Center were decent, but failing to lead the D-line meant he had a fatal flaw. He might make it to NCAA Division 1, but he'll have to work his ass off after getting to college, or the mask will slip.
This is why NCAA recruiting is so hard. The NFL draft is the same. Football is a sport where the gap between levels is bigger than any other sport, so it's common for "top prospects" to vanish without a trace in college or the pros.
Anyway.
"Fine. Let's do it together."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
There was no reason for me to refuse. It makes the team stronger. However, one thing...
"Keep one thing in mind."
"What's that?"
"If you drop out, it's a $200 fine."
"Haha."
Christopher laughed and shouted to the room without even looking back.
"Did you hear that?! If you quit, it's $200!" "OORAH!!"
"OORAH!!"
Looking at this, it was clear who the real leader of the D-line was. The coach made the wrong choice for captain. But you can't blame him entirely, because this kind of thing is part of high school football.
Football. Academics. You're judged not just on the field, but as a student. Sioele has two brothers on the team, and his GPA was 3.3 (B+), which is better than Christopher's B-. I don't plan to argue about what's already happened. The important thing is the present.
"See you later then."
"9:30, right?"
"Yup!"
As I walked away from the D-line meeting room, I ran into Sioele, who looked flustered and asked why I was there. I gave him a ridiculous excuse.
"I got lost."
"What?"
"I was daydreaming for a bit. I'll get out of your way now."
"...."
My plan to confuse him so he wouldn't talk shit worked perfectly. He just stood there with his mouth slightly open and a blank expression. I walked away quickly. Once I turned the corner, I pulled out my phone and sent a message to "The Musclers" Snapchat group.
Ding.
The guys will reply once they see it. Now, I have something else to do.
Knock knock.
"You called?"
"Oh, yeah. Moi. Have a seat."
"Yes, sir."
Coach John Moss wanted to review the offensive tactics for the St. Louis game with me. Soon the Offensive Coordinator came in, and a bit later, the head coach showed up too. Now it's turned into a real meeting. My god. When am I going to eat? It doesn't look like I'll be eating within the hour.
.
.
# November 3, 2016
#-4. Football Field, Coach's Office
After practice, Sioele Huamatu visited Gavin Travis's office. Since Sioele was the team captain, Gavin welcomed him. But...
"Why is that a problem?"
"Because I'm the captain."
"...."
"Taking the D-line with him... he crossed the line."
The Kahuku head coach realized the captain was throwing what amounted to a childish tantrum. He sighed quietly.
"Sigh—"
He had already heard that the number of "Musclers" hitting the weights three times a week had more than doubled. Specifically, the D-line had joined, and considering the St. Louis game, this change provided a positive energy to the whole team. It was something a coach should welcome with open arms, but the team captain was trying to put the brakes on it.
Gavin Travis knew the reason. And because of that, he was even more disappointed.
"I get the feeling you're taking this personally. Because you hate Moi. His grandfather was kicked out of the Huamatu family, so you treat him like a fake Samoan."
"...."
"What you're doing right now doesn't help the team. It doesn't respect the teammates who are working hard to beat St. Louis. So, instead of worrying about useless things, why don't you try being productive?"
He had known about the Huamatu family history, but he didn't think it would interfere like this. Throughout the season, Sioele played like he refused to be outdone by Moi. To some extent, it had a good impact. But the roles of a Quarterback and a Center were completely different. That was obvious.
Moreover, in several situations, Sioele acted explicitly selfishly. Because the skill gap was so large, it hadn't turned into a real problem yet, but his fellow defenders noticed. As this repeated, Sioele naturally lost his leadership. And Moi absorbed it.
Next year has to be completely different.
Though the most important game of the season remained, Gavin Travis decided the direction for next year's recruiting based on this incident.
For Moi.
Until now, many of Hawaii's top talents were snatched by St. Louis, but from now on, he planned to bring elite players to Kahuku with an aggressive strategy. Most importantly, the decisive reason they had lost to St. Louis in the past was now gone.
Money.
Recently, Kahuku Principal John Haggerty promised to consistently invest a portion of the money from Moi's jersey sales into the football team. For now, it was used for facility improvements and a new bus, but the next wave of funds would go toward recruiting. If they became financially equal to the private St. Louis, there was no reason for Kahuku to lose the recruiting war.
In fact, they had a huge advantage: Dwayne Moi Stone. It would be decisive at the end of the season. Gavin Travis could guarantee it. If Kahuku won this year...
Everyone will know.
The greatest talent in football history. And the plays that proved it. The changes this legendary high school player is bringing to the entire school are far from over.
.
.
# November 4, 2016
#-3. Kahuku High School
Lately, there are more kids waddling around the school. Needless to say, it's because of the night training. Our Kahuku linemen are giants over 100kg, but most of them are just chubby; they're far from the muscular builds found at the college or pro level. The Guards and Tackles were the ones struggling the most to keep up. The Linebackers were agile enough to handle it.
Even now, I'm watching a friend walk like he just got circumcised. Well, in that case, I have no choice.
"Hey—!!"
"Whoa!!"
I ran up from behind and hopped onto Silva's back. Silva, hurriedly bracing himself against a wall, barely managed to hold me up. He spoke through gritted teeth.
"Moi? Get. Off. Now."
"I was just happy to see you."
"You're a demon."
"Hehehe. I told you, right? You're just made of water."
"Fuck off! Get off right now!"
I didn't want to provoke him too much, so I hopped down immediately. My friend just shook his head.
"Fucking brat."
"You think I'm cute? Aw, I know."
"I said fuck off!"
"I already did. Nothing left to off."
"Goddammit. I really shouldn't talk to you." "Why~? You love me the most, don't you?" "No I don't!"
"Yes you dooo? Yes you dooo~?"
Silva tried to reach out and grab me, but with his legs in that state, it was impossible. Saying his muscles are sore wouldn't be enough. Anyway.
Silva Toelupe is an Offensive Lineman, specifically an Offensive Guard (OG). To put it simply: a meat shield for the QB and the Running Back. Guards stand on either side of the Center, and their first job is to collide with the defensive line. Depending on the strategy, they create space for the Running Back or prevent the central defense from rushing the QB. If they suck, no matter how good the QB or RB is, they'll never reach the end zone.
"Shit. I don't think I can do afternoon practice." "You can do it."
"How?"
"How? You just do it. "
"Dammit. I forgot."
"Forgot what? That I'm a demon?"
"No. That you sound exactly like our old man." "You mean Coach Jamarion?"
"Yeah."
Coach Jamarion Russell, who handles the O-line, has a catchphrase. You think you can't do it? I'll prove you wrong. Just do it. During O-line drills, there's a part where they run the length of the field until they're about to vomit. Every time, Coach Jamarion would scream that into the ears of the kids who were about to quit. Really loud.
"Whatever. Tell him he can grill me and eat me today."
"Grilling is a bit much."
"?"
"I'll tell him to boil you instead."
"Is that supposed to be comforting? Get lost!"
Whenever I met friends in the hallway like this, I always messed with them until they were right on the edge of getting actually mad. But the reason I do this is because I know high-intensity weight training is boring and painful.
To make them come voluntarily, I have to crack jokes or provoke them to trigger their competitive spirit. It's right to do whatever it takes.
Up ahead, another one is limping. It's not because he got beat up. It's because his inner thighs are locked up. Once again, I sprinted down the hallway and jumped on his back.
"Where are you going—!!"
"FUCK! MOI!!"
"Haha! You can't catch me, sucker!"
"Fuck, Moi! If I catch you tonight, you're dead!" "See you then!!"
With more people, training is actually fun. Best of all, everyone has a reason. To beat St. Louis and become champions. To go to the National Championship. Looking at the will of these friends filling the weight room, I want to pull this team to the top no matter what.
But the opponent is St. Louis. The strongest in Hawaii.