The Taste of Defeat

Ty couldn't stand this feeling. There was no way he could accept it, this sickening taste in his mouth; he hadn't lost yet, not until the final whistle blew. He wouldn't give in.

The Dons offence was back out there again. The kickoff return this time was more deflated, only reaching the 24-yard line. It seemed even the moral of the offence had been smashed down.

Denzel was no longer participating as a part of the Bears' defence, but it didn't matter, the Dons were still forced to punt.

The Dons' defence dragged themselves back out onto the field, JJ still trying to keep everyone motivated, while Ty quietly fumed and prepared to redeem himself.

They switched to just an all out rush-stopping defence, leaving only the DBs back in coverage to defend against passes.

Death through the air was the poison they had picked, and though they weren't happy with it, it would have to be better than what Denzel had been doing to them.

Ty was laser-focused, though #14 didn't say anything to him this time as they awaited the snap.

When the snap did happen, Ty lunged forward, aiming to shove #14 aside and rush straight for Denzel as the rest of the team collapsed in to stop him as well.

This time, they actually were able to drag him down for only a gain of 2 yards as the formidable Offensive Line had crumbled under the all-out assault.

Denzel's friends hurried to help hi up, apologising for their failure to protect him, though he brushed it off.

'Don't worry 'bout it.' He looked around at the Dons' defenders, disgust in his eyes. 'If that's how they gon' play it, fuck it, we know what to do.'

The Dons' spirits started to raise again, and they lined up once more. If they could just keep getting results just like that, maybe they could bring this back after all.

'It's hopeless. Why do you have to be so boring?' #14 said, but Ty was still ignoring him.

Again, when the ball was snapped, Ty lunged forward once more. THis time, however, he made contact with nothing. #14 was all too happy to get out of his way.

The QB dropped back, pushed the ball towards Denzel, but drew his hand back at the last moment and kept the ball.

Ty scrambled to a stop and turned back, but it was too late. #14 had more than enough space, and the ball was lobbed over Ty's head for an easy catch.

Thankfully, the pass was a little behind #14, and he had to slow down a step to catch it. Due to that, Ty was able to reach him and shove him out of bounds right after the pass had been completed.

#14 sighed, dropping the ball once the play was over. The pass had resulted in a gain of 14 yards. 'See? Hopeless. Maybe next time you can give us a small challenge at least. Just try to not bore me to sleep.'

He roughly pushed past Ty on his way to his huddle. Ty narrowed his eyes, watching #14 walk away. He was being toyed with, and this sleepy fuck wasn't even trying. Did he even need to when Denzel was usually so dominant?

Though the ball wasn't always thrown to #14 after that, the Dons had no way of stopping both the air attack AND Denzel at the same time, so they slowly bled out as more and more passes were completed.

This new tactic was at least more successful than how they'd been defending the rush, though it was hard to tell if that was because of what the Dons were doing, or more so because the Bears had let their foot off the gas.

In the end, the Bears only tacked on another ten points before the end of the game.

And on the opposite side of the ball, the Dons—once their moral recovered a bit, but also perhaps because of the Bears easing up—were able to score an offensive touchdown of their own.

Stephen caught a short pass over the middle of the field after they'd meticulously worked their way downfield to the goal line. After his catch, he then promptly spiked the ball as hard as he could into the turf to vent some of his frustrations about the defeat.

The touchdown had come too late into the fourth quarter for it to really mean anything, and by that point their defeat was inevitable. To their credit, the Dons never gave up.

The game ended with a whimper rather than a bang, with a final score of 48–17, the Bears were heralded as the victors.

And even though the crowd had been cheering and celebrating their victory since near the beginning of the second half, they erupted with jubilation as the final whistle was blown and the game was officially over.

The Bears celebrated on the field and by their bench, riling up the crowd and playing up to them as they showered in the praise of their fans.

The coaching staff of the Dons did their best to cheer up their downtrodden players as the hollow feeling left behind by the defeat sunk into them and they began to fully comprehend what had happened.

Their undefeated streak was over and their hot start to the season had been frozen just like that.

Ty stood on the field, staring up at the scoreboard. The numbers 48 and 17 burned into his memory, searing themselves into his brain. He couldn't quite fathom that the game was over.

He was the last person standing on the field after it was all said and over.

Coach Hoang eventually had to wheel over to him and tug his arm. 'Samuels. Hey, snap out of it. Are you okay? Come on, let's get to the locker room. The game's over. We might've lost, but there's plenty of season left. We'll get another chance against them.'

Ty blinked, looking down at Coach Hoang blankly. 'This… is losing?...'

'Feels like shit, I know.' He started to roll towards the locker room before he stopped and looked back. '…Have…Have you never lost before?'

Ty looked away, not saying anything. He was failing to come to grips with this horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Coach Hoang frowned and kept a hold of Ty's hand, leading him over to the locker room.

Inside, the atmosphere was dead. Hardly a sound was made except for the shuffling of feet and the thudding of cleats against the floor.

There was no game ball to be handed out—that had obviously been rewarded to Denzel in the other locker room—and there was no grand speech to be made.

When Coach Long did say something, he kept it brief.

'You can't win them all, guys, and that's okay. We'll just have to get them next time. So let's use this as a learning experience; there will be plenty to go over at the next practice.'

He looked around the room, hardly anyone was looking at him.

He cleared his throat. 'Well. Get home safe, get plenty of rest, and I'll see you all at practice. Dons on three.' He held his hand up.

Like zombies, the team shuffled towards him and then raised their hands up against his.

'One, two, three.'

'…Dons.'

Coach Long frowned but stepped away from the huddle as it broke apart and everyone went on their way grabbing their things and heading home.

As Ty emerged from the room, Megan was right there to greet him, hugging him tight. 'Ah. I'm so sorry! You still did amazing, Ty. And I'm sure you tried your hard—'

'Don't.' Ty didn't hug back, and slipped away from her grasp. 'Just… don't.' He kept his head down as he trudged back to the car park.

The drove home was as silent and awkward as it could've been. The awkwardness wasn't helped when Coach Long offered to get ice cream as a way to cheer them up instead of celebrate this time. Even then, Ty had no reaction, he just stared at the floor.

Megan and Bella both politely declined the joking offer, and Coach Long took the siblings straight home.

The house was dark when they arrived. Ty got out and closed the door without saying a word.

Megan apologised on his behalf, then thanked Coach Long for driving them and bid everyone a goodnight before she left and followed her brother; Ty was already inside the house by the time she was out of the car.

She got inside just in time to hear his bedroom door close.

He dumped his bag down, then flopped onto his bed, staring at the ceiling for a moment. A wave of emotions hit him as he stared at that popcorn ceiling. He had lost. He was powerless, in a game of football… he had been utterly defeated.

He could feel something bubbling away inside of him, a visceral, fiery rage boiling in his gut before it rushed through the rest of his body, spreading to the very ends of his limbs and drowning him in it like hot magma.

He turned over, stuffing his face into his pillow and screamed. He screamed until his throat was sore and his voice was hoarse. It did little to ease him. His body was still burning up.

He had lost, and it was all his fault. If only he was faster, stronger, bigger. If he was better, he wouldn't have lost.

He got out of bed, even after screaming, he still had so much pent up energy left over. He couldn't sit still, not with this fire burning throughout his whole body.

He paced around, but it wasn't enough. He wanted to explode, and he was so hot he couldn't think properly, couldn't breath in this stuffy room.

He walked out, the door swinging shut loudly. He didn't even notice that the twins had been watching everything with fear-filled eyes.

Megan opened her door, sticking her head out just in time to hear the slam of the front door as Ty left.

Once outside, he had an easier time breathing, but he still felt so wound up, like he'd burst apart at the seams at any moment.

He took off running. He sprinted into the street and then followed the dark, empty road, running as far as his legs would take him. He had no goal in mind, no destination, he was simply running just for the sake of running.

"Useless! Worthless piece of fucking shit! How!? How could you lose?! I'll never lose again!" He panted heavily, wide eyes staring ahead as his feet pounded against the asphalt.

"I'll destroy them. All of them. That stupid, boring fuck. That jackass king. The whole team! When we meet again, I'LL DESTROY THEM!"