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The restaurant was the sa as always: Sunset Grille, a local classic just a few blocks from Palisades High School. A modest but warm place, its walls were decorated with signed jerseys, trophies of uncertain origin, old photos of players, and newspaper clippings celebrating local sports achievents.
The owner, Mike, knew them well by now. He was a Palisades fan not just because of proximity or his love for football, but also because his son went to Palisades Middle School, which shared the campus with the high school.
The boy was a total fan of Andrew, not just because of the legend he’d built in middle school, but because of everything he was doing now as the high school’s star quarterback... and, of course, because of his YouTube channel.
What had started as a small tradition between friends: Andrew, Reggie, Steve, Kevin, and Archie, had slowly turned into a sort of ritual before every ga. They’d et to eat sothing light, joke around, talk about the ga, and blow off steam. Nothing more.
But ever since Andrew started his YouTube channel in freshman year, everything leveled up.
The channel, which began as a last-minute idea without much planning, had beco a phenonon. By 2009, it had surpassed one million subscribers, and the videos were getting hundreds of thousands of views.
And of course... when the quarterback has a channel watched by thousands of people, nobody wants to be left out.
More and more teammates started showing up to the prega. So out of camaraderie, others out of superstition... and a few just because they knew showing up there might get them noticed by other schools, or even college scouts.
The core group: Steve, Reggie, Kevin, and Archie, were always there. Not for the fa, but because they were the originals. Loyal friends since elentary school. Still, they didn’t mind the extra attention. Steve even claid he had "his own fanbase" in the comnts. And he wasn’t wrong. He always said he’d make his own channel, but never did, too lazy, and life was already busy with training, gas, and school.
This ti, though, the atmosphere was quieter than usual.
The semifinal wasn’t just another ga. Liam wasn’t playing. And Moose Ridge was out for revenge.
Most of the team had lost their appetite. They were nervous, checking the clock or their phones every five minutes. The tension was thick... except for the old guard.
Andrew was adjusting the tripod like he was on a Hollywood set. He tested angles, analyzed the lighting in the restaurant, asured the distance between the plates and the cara as if the framing could sohow decide the outco of the ga. Willa and Howard had taught him a few tricks with caras, and he applied them with near-maniacal precision.
To the side, Kevin was debating Seven with Archie, the movie Archie had watched last night on Kevin recomndation.
"The ending wrecked . I was literally frozen on the couch. My dad ca over, patted my back, and gave a beer to try. My first! Well... the first he knows about..."
"Told you. Brad Pitt acting like he doesn’t get it until it’s too late? Perfect," said Kevin with a faint smile as he sipped his soda.
"WHAT’S IN THE FUCKING BOX?!" shouted Archie, mimicking the scene while pretending to aim an invisible gun.
Kevin burst out laughing, shaking his head.
Steve, anwhile, already had two plates in front of him: a chicken wrap and a salad that was clearly just there for decoration. He ate like it was his last al, savoring every bite, completely ignoring the nervous energy in the air.
"Delicious," he mumbled to himself, barely pausing to swallow before diving in again like a bottomless pit.
’This is supposed to be a light al...’ thought Jack, one of the team’s new wide receivers. He was their age, but still getting used to the group’s dynamic.
Reggie was in his own world, phone in hand, laughing as he texted with a girl.
"Guys, did I tell you? There’s a girl from Venice coming to watch play today. Not just any girl... a cheerleader. Even though we knocked them out of the playoffs last Friday at their ho stadium. I knew she winked at !" said Reggie, laughing like a conquering hero.
He showed the chat to one of the linen, who gave an awkward smile, unsure of how to respond, he was far too nervous to talk about girls.
The rest of the team looked over at Reggie, Steve, Kevin, and Archie, thinking, "How can they be so calm?"
"Must be because they’ve played in a lot of finals..." one of them said, glancing over at Andrew.
They all knew Andrew had gone to elentary school with Archie, Kevin, Steve, and Reggie. They’d played in plenty of finals together, and if the legend was true, they had never lost.
That’s when the door to the restaurant opened and Liam walked in, using his crutch for support. He was wearing the team sweatshirt, his lucky Palisades cap proudly in place, and his ankle was still wrapped.
"Sorry I’m late, had to swing by the house to grab this," he said, tapping the brim of his cap with a slight smile.
Reggie instantly put his phone away, Archie and Kevin dropped their Seven discussion, and Andrew stopped muttering about angles and cara setups.
The rest of the team let out a quiet sigh of relief. Finally, Andrew and his crew were back from whatever worlds they’d been off in.
"You finally made it, cripple!" Reggie joked, raising a fist for a bump.
Liam grinned and returned the gesture easily, then eased himself into the spot they’d saved for him.
Andrew smiled at Liam while giving the cara one last check, "Perfect. All set to begin."
Just then, Mike approached with several prepared plates, "Here’s your usual special, Andrew. And for the rest of you, the wraps and salads you ordered. And you, Liam? What’ll it be?"
"Sothing light, Mike. I’m not super hungry... but I don’t want to just sit here watching Steve devour his third dinner either," Liam replied with a half-smile.
"Hey, third? No way. Second and a half," Steve muttered, wiping his mouth with a napkin, clearly offended.
Mike chuckled and nodded, jotting down Liam’s order. Just as he was about to turn around, Andrew glanced up, and noticed it.
There, behind the counter, was Mike’s son. A twelve-year-old kid, probably a student at Palisades Middle School, staring wide-eyed at them since they walked in.
It wasn’t unusual. Andrew knew the kid had been following them for a while now.
Andrew turned to Mike before he walked away, "Hey, Mike... if your son wants, he can co over. We can let him join the prega if he’s up for it."
Mike’s eyes widened in surprise, and a genuine smile spread across his face, "Really?"
"Of course. Let him co. Today more than ever, we need the energy of youth," Andrew replied with a smile.
"Youth? What, are you an old man now?" Steve quipped, not even looking up from the last bits of food on his plate.
"Shut up and keep eating," Andrew shot back, waving his hand as if swatting a fly.
Mike headed to the counter, clearly excited. A few seconds later, he returned with his son walking a few steps behind. The boy wore an oversized Palisades hoodie and approached like he was stepping onto sacred ground.
"Co on, don’t be shy," Mike said with a gentle elbow nudge.
The boy nodded silently, eyes locked on Andrew, who was already making space for him between himself and Steve.
"Have a seat... What’s your na?"
"Tyler," the boy said, barely audible.
"Alright, Tyler, you’re now part of the prega for the semifinal. Say whatever you want," Andrew said, motioning for him to sit.
Tyler sat between Andrew and Steve, hands on the table, eyes wide, like he couldn’t believe he was actually there. He nodded nervously.
"Ready?" Andrew asked, scanning the group with a quick glance.
Everyone nodded, so more focused than others, and Andrew hit the record button. The red light lit up.
"Alright, Friday, December first. We’re here at Sunset Grille, like always, for our semifinal prega. We’re going up against Moose Ridge, just like in the last ga of the regular season," he said, looking directly into the cara.
He was about to continue when Steve looked up from his plate and asked, "Wait, are you recording already?"
Andrew stared at him with a mix of disbelief and resignation, "Did you not hear say ’ready’ like five seconds ago?"
"Oh man, if that’s your level of focus, we’re screwed for the ga," Kevin comnted with a smirk.
"There won’t be food on the field to distract !" Steve shot back instantly.
"Perfect. This is gold content," Reggie muttered, shaking his head slightly.
The group laughed. Finally, the tension began to lift.
Andrew smiled and turned to Tyler.
"And today, we’ve got a special guest. From Palisades Middle School, a future Eagle, one of our own... Tyler!"
The boys clapped, so letting out small cheers and tapping the table lightly. Tyler shrugged and smiled, a little red in the face, but clearly happy.
Andrew raised a hand and the noise quieted down.
"Alright, now let’s get a bit more serious. Today we’re without Liam. He’s here with us, as always, but off the field. And that changes things."
Liam raised his hand in greeting, wearing a faint smile.
"So... how are you all feeling about it? I want impressions. Let’s start with... Jacob, who’s stepping in as starting linebacker today in Liam’s spot. How are you holding up?"
The boy, shorter but built like a wall, swallowed hard and adjusted in his seat.
"Honestly... nervous. I’ve never played a ga this important as a defensive leader. But... we trained all week for this. And I know that even though Liam’s not on the field, he’s still with us. He’s gonna be yelling at just like if he were in the huddle."
A few laughs and knowing glances spread around the table. Liam raised an eyebrow and smiled wryly, as if to say you better believe it.
And so, the prega continued.
One by one, the players shared their thoughts. So spoke with confidence. Others with anxiety.
But all of them knew one thing for sure: tonight wasn’t just any ga.
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