Semua Bab Blindside Beauty : Bab 141 - Bab 150

The Mississippi sky was a deep, endless blue as the Cannibals’ charter bus wound through the pine forests outside Jackson. Alexandra Jordan pressed her forehead to the window, watching the familiar landscape blur past. She hadn’t been back to her home state in months, and now she was returning not for a reunion, but for a reckoning.This regular season finale was different from any other. The Mississippi Militia—her father Thomas’s dream, her brother Rodney’s pride, and her stepbrother Sam’s project—had become a reality, thanks in no small part to Jeremy’s vision and support. The Militia, an all-men’s squad clad in baby blue, red, and Confederate uniform grey, were fighting for their first playoff berth. For Alexandra, it was a homecoming layered with pride, pain, and the bittersweet weight of family history.Wilfred, her stepbrother, watched every game from his wheelchair on the sideline, paralyzed since that fateful Saturday in college. Alexandra’s redshirt freshman year at Ole Miss

The Denver Coliseum was a cauldron of noise and color, black, red, and purple banners rippling above a crowd hungry for history. The Cannibals had been here before—on the edge of greatness, the city’s hopes on their shoulders. But tonight, the stakes felt different. The Texas Thunder, self-anointed “Cannibal Killers,” were in town, swaggering and vengeful after nearly toppling Denver in the regular season. The media called it a grudge match. The fans called it destiny.Alexandra Jordan stood at midfield during warmups, helmet in hand, eyes narrowed at the Thunder’s sideline. She could feel the tension in the air, the ghosts of that narrow escape months ago. The Thunder had come to end the Cannibals’ reign, and they wanted everyone to know it.But Alexandra had other plans.The Rematch HypeThe week had been a blur of headlines and trash talk. The Thunder’s coach declared on national TV, “We’re not just here to win. We’re here to end the Cannibals’ dynasty.” Thunder players posted vide

Denver was a city transformed. Black, red, and purple banners draped every streetlamp, and the air was thick with the sound of horns, cheers, and the kind of hope that only comes with victory. The Cannibals’ parade snaked through downtown, a river of celebration. On the lead bus, Alexandra Jordan stood with Heather and Mia, the championship trophy gleaming in her hands. The crowd’s roar was a living thing—waves of gratitude and awe for a team that had done the impossible: back-to-back-to-back champions.Alexandra let the joy wash over her, but beneath the surface, her heart was already turning toward the next mountain. She’d always been driven by what came after the confetti, the question of what was left to prove. Now, as Denver celebrated, she knew her journey was far from over.A City’s FarewellThe parade wound past the Capitol, the mayor waving from the steps. Fireworks exploded above Civic Center Park, where a stage had been set for the champions. Jeremy, radiant in a tailored s

Philadelphia was a city that thrived on debate, and after Alexandra Jordan’s preseason debut, the city was ablaze. Sports radio hosts argued over her every snap. TV anchors replayed her tackles and her mistakes in endless loops. The front page of the sports section ran her photo—helmet off, sweat streaking her face, eyes fierce—with the headline: “Jordan’s Shot: Sideshow or Spark?”The Talons’ practice facility felt like the eye of a hurricane. Alexandra arrived early, ducking past a knot of reporters outside the gates. She could hear them calling her name, but she kept her head down, her bag slung over her shoulder. She was used to it by now—the questions, the doubters, the ones who wanted her to fail and the ones who wanted her to change the world.Inside, the locker room buzzed with a different kind of energy. Some teammates greeted her with nods or fist bumps. Others just watched, sizing her up. She was no longer a novelty, not after last season’s historic championship game appear

The Philadelphia skyline shimmered in the late September sun, but inside the Talons’ practice facility, the world was all hard edges and fluorescent light. Alexandra Jordan stood at the edge of the weight room, chalk dust on her hands, watching the rookies finish their last set of squats. She counted out the reps, her voice steady, her presence a comfort.“Two more, Marcus. Finish strong.”The rookie linebacker grunted, legs shaking, and managed the final rep. Alexandra nodded, a small smile breaking through her fatigue. “That’s how you get better. Every day.”She clapped his shoulder as he racked the bar. Around her, the other practice squad players watched, some with gratitude, others with a hint of envy. Alexandra was the heart of this group—the one who’d been so close, who’d played in a championship game, who still came in first and left last. She was the only woman in the NAFL, a three-time champion from another league, and yet here she was, a practice player, still waiting for h