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Gladiators of the Gridiron

Updated every Wednesday and Sunday! Everyone wants to be the greatest, but for most people, that's nothing more than a pipe dream; for others, they feel like it's their destiny. Gladiators of the Gridiron is a story that follows two boys who are two sides of the same coin on their journey through their high school American Football careers to become the greatest of all time.

SeipoltMP · Sport
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147 Chs

Workhorse

The day after the Dons' last game, Ty was back at the Dons' home field, working with Coach Hoang. He couldn't rest; he had to get stronger.

After warming up and running a few laps, Ty stood in the stands. He was just a few rows up, balanced on the edge of a step, heels hanging in the air. He looked back at Coach Hoang.

'Lower your heels a bit, then push all the way up onto your toes, and slowly back down. I'd give you a demonstration … but, you know.' Coach Hoang gestured to his atrophied legs.

'Yeah, yeah, I get it.' Ty took a deep breath. His heels dipped, then he burst up onto his toes, calves flexing. He slowly lowered back down.

'And if this is all too easy for you, you can try it with just one leg,' Coach Hoang said.

Ty soon moved to the one-legged variant, arms spread wide to keep his balance. With one foot propelling his full weight up, he felt the burn sooner and it didn't take long before he had to swap over to the other foot.

When he'd finished his sets, his calves were trembling, even as he sat, drinking his water.

'Next, you can do some lunges,' Coach Hoang said.

Ty nodded.

'Up and down the field, until I tell you to stop. … Or you collapse.'

Ty wiped his mouth and stood. 'I won't fall.'

He started at one endzone, and slowly lunge-walked his way down to the other one, and then back to where he'd started. Each lunge was deep and slow; each lap was a long, 200-yard crawl.

Coach Hoang stayed on the sideline. On the third lap, he rolled alongside Ty. 'This is too easy for you isn't it? I should see about getting a key for the gym, looks like we need to add some weights to this stuff.'

Ty only grunted in response, keeping focused on his lunges, beads of sweat clung to his brow.

After Ty finished his fifth lap, Coach Hoang told him it was enough. Ty wanted to lie on the grass, but he didn't give in. He dragged himself over to the empty bench and sat down again, making the most of his two-minute rest.

'Don't get too comfortable down there,' Coach Hoang said.

'Rich coming from you.'

'Ohh, haha, yeah, that's clever. You think it's smart pissing off the one in charge of your regimen? Oh, look at that, break's over. Bottom of the steps. You're gonna squat deep, then jump up the steps, as many as you can. On your way down you can … walk backwards, and do another squat on each step.'

'You really like dragging this shit out, don't you?'

'Less complaining, more action.'

Ty grumbled but pushed himself up and got to it. Starting at the bottom of the stands, he cleared four steps with a single leap, squatted, and skipped another four again.

He reached the top fairly quickly, then began his slow descent. Going backwards down the steps stretched out his legs from his Achilles to his glutes, and even around to his quads.

When he was back at the bottom, he glanced at Coach Hoang. 'How many times?'

'Until I say stop. You know the drill.'

Ty got right back to his climb without another word.

Coach Hoang watched quietly from the sidelines. He gave minimal instructions, only pointing out the odd mistake in form, or if Ty's effort dropped for even a second. When Ty came down again, Coach Hoang said: 'You know, I'm glad you're this motivated, but, you better not be working yourself to death with this. I need you to go home and take it easy after this. It's Sunday, watch some games.'

'I'm fine. I'm not doing anything stupid. This is nothing, and I'm still getting plenty of rest, so you can shut up with that shit, you're not my father.'

Coach Hoang narrowed his eyes. 'You're the one who asked for my help. I'm just making sure you're not overworking. Rest might be the most important step for growth. All of this is pointless if you keep at it until your body falls apart.'

'I said I'm fine!' Ty glared at Coach Hoang, panting.

'Good. One more set and then you can go home.'

Ty smashed out the last climb. He and Coach Hoang didn't say another word to each other. Ty got on his bike and raced home.

He almost crashed in the front yard when he arrived. He dumped the bike and leaned against the fence, legs trembling.

He shuffled to the front door. He could hear the twins' excited squeals coming from inside. Stepping into the house made their shrieks louder.

'Pipe down and move away from the fucking TV!' Father growled.

Ty glanced over, saw the flashing image of the game and the large presence of his father in his chair. The twins scampered away from the TV, silent but for their footfalls.

Ty turned away.

'Hey, how was training?' Meg asked. She was sitting at the dining table, her books laid out in front of her, a pocket of organisation within the messy entrance.

'It was fine. I'm fine.' He walked past her.

'Are you sure you're alright?'

Ty stopped and took his hand off the wall. He inhaled deeply and waited for his body to stop shaking. 'I said I'm fine.' He continued to the fridge. Meg went back to her homework, though now she had another distraction to worry about.

The fridge was a cluttered mess, and the first few containers he pulled from the chaos burnt his nostrils with their stink. Eventually, he found some leftover spaghetti that didn't smell and dumped it into a bowl. After heating it in the microwave, he brought it to his room.

In the hallway, he heard Victoria talking on the phone, laughing loudly from her room.

'Oh my god, he's going out with HER. She's SUCH a slut, gross. I heard she's got chlamydia.'

Upon entering his room, he saw, thankfully, that Devon wasn't home, though it wasn't much of a surprise.

Ty didn't emerge from his room again that night.

His legs continued to spasm occasionally. Even so, he slowly drifted to sleep, only for it to be interrupted an unknown amount of time later when he heard someone crawling in through the window.

He didn't get up. He knew it was just Devon, and when Ty heard him stumble and curse, his suspicions were confirmed.

The next day, school dragged on longer than Ty would've wished, though that happened every day. Afterwards, he and JJ met at the gym.

'Yo, you said you wanted to focus on grip strength, right? Do you still want to do that?'

'Yes, it'll help with my catching, I'm sure of it.'

'Hah, alright hermanito, you got it. I'll show you some stuff.'

They focused on arms. JJ reminded Ty that if he was going to lay strong tackles, have a strong press, and snatch catches away from a bigger Receiver, every muscle in his arms needed to be powerful.

They started simply, keeping to some bicep curls to warm up. JJ helped Ty find the right weight he could handle. JJ's ideology was to train until failure, until you couldn't lift the weight another inch further, even while sacrificing good form. At the same time, he thought if that failure came after fifteen reps, it was excessive and time to move up to something heavier.

For Ty's bicep curls, that meant fifteen pounds for three sets.

Afterwards, they were all over the gym. Ty did his best to fill in as a spotter when needed, though with some of the weights JJ was throwing around, Ty wondered if he'd be able to do anything other than get crushed if JJ were to drop them.

They went through overhead dumbbell presses; rope cable tricep extensions; back to curling with hammer, and wrist curls—an exercise that surprised Ty with how straining it was despite how simple and easy it looked; then they walked up and down the length of the gym, carrying the heaviest dumbbells they could; and finished with chin-ups, and pull-ups.

Ty always did his best to keep up, but still found himself far behind JJ. When they were lugging those weights around—a "farmer's walk" as JJ had called it—even though JJ's burden was double Ty's, JJ had raced up and down the gym fast enough to lap Ty.

And the weights that JJ was heaving over his head, or moving with ease, were so heavy that Ty could hardly budge them whilst putting his whole body into it.

Ty wondered just how long someone like JJ had to work to become THAT damn strong.

By the end of their session, when Ty dropped from the pull-up bar for the last time, he felt like his arms would fall off.

'How you feeling?' JJ asked, slapping Ty on the back.

Ty clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly, slowly. His hands felt as if they were full of air. He smiled 'Good, it feels good.'

'Hell yeah, that's the stuff.' JJ's slapping gained enthusiasm. 'Let's get out of here, it was a good session today.'

'Hold up. How about we arm wrestle? Wouldn't that be good for grip strength? It'll show how far I've come. Or how far I still need to go.'

'Hmm. Well, arm wrestling itself won't be the best for strengthening your muscles but… sure, why not?' JJ looked around, then went over to a large mat block used for box jumps. He pulled it around and slapped his elbow onto the top, holding his hand out invitingly for Ty. 'Not the best surface, but it'll do.'

Ty strode forward and accepted the challenge, clasping hands with JJ as he got settled into position. JJ's hand was huge. There were the beginnings of callouses. Coarse hair covered the back of his palms and knuckles. Veins bulged as he gripped Ty's hand.

Ty's hand wasn't as dwarfed as you might expect. Like Ty's long arms, his hands were bigger than they should be at his size. A gift that helped him reel in catches already, but it was much slender and smoother than JJ's.

'Ready?' JJ asked.

Ty nodded.

JJ began counting down. 'Three, two, one.'

Ty twisted his hips and pushed hard, squeezing JJ's massive paw as hard as he could. But JJ's hand only moved an inch.

'Not bad.' JJ grinned. Then he started pushing back. Ty's hand shook uselessly within JJ's grasp as Ty's arm was slowly levered backwards.

Ty gripped the box and leaned his whole body into the contest. His teeth ground together noisily as he heaved with all his might, but he could do nothing as his arm continued to fall further.

His bones creaked as his fingers dug into the mat and his heels the floor. He kept pushing and twisting, even as it felt like his arm was gonna snap in two.

The back of his hand slapped against the mat.

Ty stumbled aside when JJ let him go.

Of course, it was just as he expected—he'd have an easier time moving a mountain than moving JJ.

JJ let him go and patted him on the shoulder. 'Good effort, hermanito, but you've still got a LONG way to go.' JJ picked up his things and continued on his way out.

Ty sighed heavily, and followed JJ, rolling his shoulder and wrist around as he went. Good effort wasn't good enough. He remembered how Denzel had flattened JJ like JJ was roadkill. That was his target. That rampaging beast was the one he had to put down.

He needed to grow faster.

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