Terrell, enraged at Jeremy, sternly says, " I don't know what you're trying to do, but I will not stand for your shenanigans. This is my team, and you're not going to fine me. It would be best if you let me do my job and left me to run the team. "
Jeremy, disgusted with Terrell, replies, " Get it through your thick head that it's not your team, it's my team, and I am letting you run the team this year. You're walking on thin ice from now on, I WILL be fining you the bare minimum with possible termination, and if you keep pushing your luck with me, I'll take it to the news outlets that you were fined or fired due to conduct detrimental to the team. You'll be lucky to get another coaching job after that. Now get ready for practice. "Terrell Hillis, huffing and puffing, turns and heads to the locker room, muttering under his breath.Jeremy heads to where Alexandra is sitting at. Once Jeremy gets to Alexandra, he sits down and apologizes, " I'm so sorry for that interaction; you should never be treated like that. I'm dealing with him, and I promise he will not do that again. I know you can handle yourself; I just had to jump in because he's, unfortunately, my employee, and I wasn't sure what he would do. Thank you, by the way, for going with what I was saying about the partnership; that worked out perfectly with Terrell. "Alexandra looks at Jeremy, saying, " I should thank you for being a buffer. I don't know what his problem is, but I think there's something seriously wrong with him because he went over the top over something so small. " Alexandra then smiles and continues, " I appreciate that you through curveball at him to show him that his actions could have significant consequences, so I had no problem going along with your partnership statement. It was amusing, and it was interesting to feel like I was on the same page as you. "Jeremy smiled and reached down to grab a bottle of 86-proof whiskey. He pulled up the bottle imported into a glass with three cold whiskey stones and poured about three fingers worth right before practice.Alexandra looked at Jeremy with disapproval and said, " Is it a good idea to drink that if you're coaching me today? I'm not trying to judge or say anything, but I never had any coach drink alcohol before practice or a game. Did you do this before games as a player? "Jeremy smiles angrily and says, " I didn't drink while I was a player; I started drinking after I retired to deal with watching football. I hope you never have to have this feeling. I only have this one glass to get through practice. We'll do a light training today and get deeper into training."Alexandra, not satisfied nor happy about Jeremy's response, went along with it for now, but she was going to keep an eye on the drinking.Jeremy then asked her, " Which linebacker position have you played, and which one do you want to play going forward? "Jeremy takes a sip while Alexandra replies, " I've been playing the Sam position, and I enjoy playing that; I would like to continue being the Sam linebacker. "Jeremy sarcastically laughs, saying, " As a Quarterback, I hate you. We'll see what we do to keep you at the Will position in your career. I will tell you tho, in the indoor football world, there's not a Sam linebacker, just a Mike and a Will linebacker, really with an occasional blitzing. So the plan will be to as a Sam linebacker and teach you to be an indoor Mike or Will linebacker. Does that sound good to you? "A Will linebacker or also called the weakside linebacker, lines up on the backside of the formations, mostly blitzing and making sure that no running plays gash through the weakside of the defense. The Will linebacker is usually the fastest and used in coverageThe Mike Linebacker or also called the middle linebacker, is essentially the quarterback of the defense. They will relay information to the other positions on defense to best set up the defense for what the offense will bring. A Mike linebacker will blitz and go into pass coverage. They must be the jack of all trades as a linebacker.A Sam linebacker or also called the Strong side linebacker, typically will line up on the side of the right end or whatever side has the most players lined up. They usually are to cover the tight end or running back and can also disrupt the tight end at the point of attack. They are usually the better tackler and are used in the pass rush.Alexandra nods in agreement, and Jeremy continues, " Do you have a workout schedule, or do you need one? Do you like working out? "Alexandra responds, " I do like to work out, but I don't have a workout schedule because I haven't figured out one that works for what I want to do. I want one that'll help me be a better linebacker along with helping me reach my goals, but I don't want to be too muscular or fit as I like how I look."Jeremy thinks for a bit, then says," Ok, I'll figure out a workout schedule for you that works for what you want to do without messing up your body. "As practice starts, Jeremy and Alexandra go over and dissect plays as they happen. Jeremy shows Alexandra what the quarterback is doing during the pre-snaps and asks her what she needs to relay to the defense, so it can adjust to what the offense is going to do during the pre-snap.Jeremy has Alexandra analyze not only what the linebackers were doing right or wrong but also the whole defense. He tests her on what she thinks the offense will run, a pass or run play and what play she would run to counter the offense. Practice ends, and the coaches and players head to the locker room.Jeremy hands Alexandra his keys to the VIP room for her to get changed for training. Alexandra comes out wearing a sports bra, a crop top jersey, and athletic leggings.While Alexandra is stretching, Jeremy speaks up, saying, " Since I'm going to be coaching you and we're going to be spending more time together. Why don't you tell me about yourself to be able to coach you better? "Alexandra looks up while warming up and replies, " Well, where do I start? "The Montana sky seemed to go on forever, a pale blue bowl stretching over Lloyd Wright’s sprawling ranch outside Dillon. For Jeremy, Alexandra, and Alicia, the week away from football was more than a break-it was a return to something simpler, something real. The days were long and the work was hard, but the rhythm of the ranch, the honest ache of muscles, and the laughter around the fire made it feel like a world apart from the noise and pressure of the season.Each morning, Lloyd’s ranch hands were already at the pens, sipping coffee and swapping stories. Jeremy and Lloyd manned the branding iron, the hiss and sizzle of hot metal on hide a reminder of tradition and responsibility. Alexandra and Alicia teamed up to wrangle calves, boots digging into the churned earth, hands growing rough and strong. The air was filled with the sounds of bawling calves, the crackle of the branding fire, and the easy banter of people who knew each other’s rhythms.“Hold him steady!”
The Colorado morning was so clear and sharp it felt like a new beginning. Alexandra stood on the porch of Jeremy’s family ranch, coffee mug warming her hands, the air tinged with sage and distant pine. The sun was barely up, but the ranch was already alive: horses nickering in the corral, the lowing of cattle, and the distant voices of ranch hands prepping for the day. She glanced sideways at Jeremy, who leaned against the railing, his own mug cradled in his hands.For a long moment, neither spoke. They just breathed in the quiet, the kind that only comes when you’re miles from anywhere, with nothing but work and sky ahead of you.“It’s beautiful here,” Alexandra said softly.Jeremy smiled. “It’s home. Even when I tried to leave it behind, it always pulled me back.”She nodded, feeling the weight of their shared history. The last time they’d been alone like this, things had been simpler-or maybe just less honest. Now, the silence between them was thick with everything unsaid.The crun
Sunday morning broke crisp and clear over Denver, but Jeremy Davis barely noticed the spring sunlight streaming through the Coliseum’s high windows. He was already at the stadium, dressed in a sharp navy suit, tie knotted just so, hair combed with the care of a man who knew the cameras would catch every detail. The Cannibals’ home turf was quiet for now, but the air buzzed with the promise of attention-ESPN, Fox Sports, and, later, the local 9 News crew were all coming to get their piece of the comeback story.Jeremy checked his phone for the third time in as many minutes. No new texts from Alexandra, but her message from the night before still glowed on his screen: “I’m coming with you to the ranch. See you soon.” He smiled, nerves and excitement tangling in his chest. But first, he had to get through the gauntlet of interviews.ESPN: The Comeback KidThe ESPN crew arrived first, setting up lights and cameras in the Cannibals’ media room. Jeremy shook hands with the producer, then to
The echoes of the game still lingered in the Denver Coliseum’s corridors, but Jeremy Davis felt like he was walking into a new world. Clean-shaven, hair still damp from the shower, he straightened the cuffs of his tailored suit-a tradition he’d kept since his earliest days as a player. On GameDay, he dressed for the part, and tonight, he wanted everything to be perfect. This wasn’t just any post-game dinner. This was Alexandra.He waited outside the women’s locker room, hands fidgeting with his phone, nerves fluttering in his stomach. Every detail had to go right. He replayed the game in his mind, every throw, every call, but it was Alexandra’s smile after her game-winning touchdown that kept flashing in his memory. He wanted that smile to last forever.The locker room door swung open, and Alexandra emerged, hair still a little damp, cheeks flushed, eyes bright. She wore a simple black dress and a leather jacket, her Cannibals duffel slung over her shoulder. She caught sight of Jeremy
Saturday dawned over Denver with a sky so blue it looked painted, the kind of day that begged for something big, something unforgettable. The city buzzed with anticipation, every sports bar and living room tuned to the same story: Jeremy Davis, once the heart of the Denver Mustangs, now owner and GM of the Colorado Cannibals, was making his improbable comeback as quarterback. The Cannibals’ season, their locker room, and maybe even Jeremy’s own future, all hung in the balance.Inside the Denver Coliseum, the energy was electric. Fans poured in, faces painted, jerseys new and old, the stands a sea of black, crimson, and silver. Reporters from ESPN, Fox Sports, and every local station milled around the field, their cameras trained on the tunnel where the Cannibals would soon emerge. The air vibrated with the thump of bass-heavy music and the distant scent of popcorn and hope.But beneath the surface, nerves ran high.Pre-Game TensionIn the Cannibals’ locker room, Jeremy sat at his cubb
Monday night settled over the Front Range, the Denver skyline twinkling in the distance as Jeremy Davis sat alone in his office at the Coliseum. The echo of practice still lingered in his bones, his arm throbbing with a dull ache that felt both familiar and foreign. Somehow, word had gotten out-maybe a trainer, maybe a player with a loose tongue, maybe just the way news always seemed to find its way to the surface when you least wanted it to.Jeremy Davis was unretiring. The Cannibals’ owner and general manager was going to suit up and play quarterback.Now, ESPN, Fox Sports, local news, and every other sports outlet in the region wanted a piece of him. His phone had been buzzing all evening, interview requests stacking up like blitzing linebackers. He didn’t want to be a distraction, didn’t want the circus to swallow the team whole, so he’d scheduled every interview for after Saturday’s game. He made sure the networks knew: this wasn’t just about him. They’d get to talk to the whole
The Monday morning sun glinted off the glass facade of the Denver Coliseum, but Jeremy Davis barely noticed as he strode through the side entrance, phone pressed tight to his ear. He’d barely slept, his mind a storm of doubt, hope, and fear. The league’s decision would come today. Would he be allowed to play? Or would his last shot at redemption slip away before it even began?He checked his phone for the hundredth time. No call yet from Commissioner Helton. He tried to focus on the Cannibals-on the team, on Trisha, on the promise he’d made to her-but his thoughts kept drifting to Alexandra.He hadn’t seen her since the hospital, but her words from their last real conversation echoed in his mind: If you want to get back to the NAFL, you have to fight for it. For yourself. For us.He wondered if “us” meant what it used to.A League DecisionIn his office, Jeremy paced, waiting for the call. When his phone finally rang, he answered on the first ring. “Jeremy Davis.”“Jeremy, it’s Larry
Sunday night settled over the Wild West Indoor Football League with a tension that was almost physical. In homes and offices across the Midwest, team owners and executives logged into a hastily arranged video conference, their faces flickering into view in a checkerboard of anticipation, rivalry, and curiosity. At the center of it all, in a quiet home office lined with league memorabilia, Commissioner Larry Helton adjusted his tie and prepared to referee what promised to be a stormy debate.Jeremy Davis was not on the call. He’d made his request official that afternoon, citing the Cannibals’ extenuating circumstances after Trisha Steinmetz’s devastating injury. The league’s bylaws were clear: an owner could only play for their team if two-thirds of the league’s owners approved, and only in “extraordinary situations.” It was up to the rest of the league to decide if this was one of those moments.Larry’s screen filled with familiar names and faces: Chad Ross of the Wyoming Cavaliers, F
Sunday afternoon sunlight spilled in golden patches through the hospital’s windows as Jeremy Davis made his way down the corridor, the familiar, antiseptic scent a jarring reminder of the night before. His phone buzzed in his pocket-another message from Jenifer, another update from the Cannibals’ staff-but he ignored it for now. There was only one thing on his mind: Trisha Steinmetz.Her text had come early that morning, brief but direct:“Jeremy, if you have time, I’d like to see you today. Room 427.”He’d barely slept, replaying every snap, every decision, every what-if from the previous game on top of when he does sleep, he has a nightmare of his own injuries. The Cannibals’ opener had been a triumph and a tragedy-an electric blowout soured by Trisha’s collapse and the news that followed. Now, as he reached her door, Jeremy steeled himself for the conversation he both dreaded and needed.He knocked gently and pushed open the door. Trisha was propped up in bed, her leg in a brace, h