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*Verging Upon a Genesis - JohnWachter - 10-19-2017
This is my first write up here, so I want to lead off with a little about me before the piece actually starts (My word count will for payment will only reflect that of the write up itself). I come from a role-playing background and currently write for a Baltimore Ravens website as a side job. I've been writing as a hobby all my life, and now do it as a semi-job as well, and have picked up what I believe to be a somewhat unique style and cadence that I've been told is pretty enjoyable. I think my background and experience can make my time here extremely fun, and I'm looking forward to doing my best to put out media that is different and interesting for all readers. I don't want to plan too far ahead, but I really want to mix things up: as I learn more players I envision putting out in-depth player and statistical analysis, I plan to do pressers when they make sense, and want to put out graphics for the league and individual players as my skills increase. I also want to add in these roleplaying threads. Everything in these threads will be in character, and don't necessarily reflect my personal opinions; one example I can think of is if my character bad mouths a team or player. In reality, I like everyone here, no one has given me a problem, and if they did that's something I'd speak to them personally about and not passive-aggressively in a thread. This intro is getting way longer than I was hoping for, so I think I'll end it for now, hopefully anyone reading this stuff finds what I'm doing enjoyable. I'm also open to feedback because I genuinely want to get better at all times, so feel free to message me.
v 2861 Words (If I said pretty please could I get the 3k bonus just this once? I'm not a fan of adding meaningless words and watering it down, so I'd rather keep the current bonus over that) v
[div align=\\\"center\\\"]Baltimore, Maryland.
October 18th, circa 9:00 PM ET
As I sip on my Long Island iced tea, I feel myself beginning to succumb to the sinking feeling within me. This whole season we were laughed at, mocked, billed as "The Worst Championship Team Ever." We proved doubters wrong, rose up, and played with the heart of a genuine champion. A long season led to this, through its ups and the downs the rollercoaster ride known as competitive sports brought us to a destination few men will ever see. But the same gods that showed their graciousness by bringing us here showed their cruel-ness, or perhaps dark sense of humor, by watching us let it all slip away.
Maybe the term "We" is a bit melodramatic. I'm just a guy at a bar right now after all, Jimmy's Famous Seafood's bar to be exact, but man I want to be there one day soon. Everyone in Baltimore was excited when we heard we'd be getting the Hawks, but none more so than me. Football's been my passion since I was a kid, I've been dreaming about being like the guys on the screen since I was six. I've been working hard since middle school, killing any kind of social life I could have had, but football has always been more important than anything else to me. When I heard we'd be getting a new pro team right down the street, it only pushed me harder, and now I'm closer to my goals than ever
"Can we turn this shit off?"
An angry, drunken voice rung in from my left side. Sitting down at the opposite side of the bar from me was a man, caucasian, maybe upper 30s. His tone and muscle shirt exemplified the "Tough guy" stereotype, but the thinness of his facial hair said "High schooler trying to look mature for the first time" or "Member of the Michael Cera Beard and Mustache Oil™ Club"
"What was that?"
The bartender responded with a smirk, half surprised half knowing random guys on a barstool don't make the rules here.
"I said turn it off, if I wanted to look at garbage I'd go to a land fill."
With a chuckle, the bartender responds, multi-tasking while wiping a glass clean with his cloth.
"I'm not turning off a championship game just cause we're losing, if you don't like it look somewhere else."
"It's half time and they aint done shit! They shouldn't have been here in the first place, the team fuckin' blows."
Normally a quiet, reserved person, I tend to change a bit when liquor enters my body. Something about the alcohol interacting with my brain, or so my doctor says. I've seen plenty of people like this guy in the past, but it's only half time and I really don't want to hear this guy bitching for the rest of the game.
"It's half time." I reply. "Why don't you have a little faith?"
As this mild confrontation unfolds, the Hawks' defense forces another three and out to start the second half. I guess I'm some type of Nostradamus as well as a great wide receiver, because right as I was finishing my sentence Ronaldo shanked his punt giving us insanely good field position at the Arizona 33.
"You see that? New ballgame." I scoff and take another sip of my drink. "Some fan you are though, right?
Before I can even set my glass down, the Outlaws force another interception with unstoppable pressure in the backfield. The sliver of hope at the start of the half was spiked through the ground like Doomfist smashing a volleyball, and I found my small sips turning into larger chugs by the second.
Quote:If you listen closely, you can hear all the remaining hope in Baltimore die.
As much as I hate to admit it, the jackass on the TV is right. Not long ago, this place was bustling with happy faces and excitement, absolutely packed with people having a great time. Now the "This is our year" quotes are turning into "What'd you expect, they're a dynasty?" And that's if you can even find someone who cares anymore. Half the place is empty, and the people that do remain aren't exactly fun to talk to.
"Woooow! Put me in there, I could do that! And for a lot less money too!"
The man throws his jacket down before turning in his barstool to face the other way, drink in hand. I've never turned a game off early, and never plan to, but days like this make me understand how people can.
"Hey Mikey..." Mike, our bartender for the night, turns to look at me. "Can I get another? I ask as I point to my glass. "I'm gonna need it."
I gave up on getting through a Baltimore sports event sober a long time ago, but I still dream of the day where we're a dynasty with nothing to worry about. That's not a figure of speech either, I literally dream about that. Like, all the time. As Mike fixes up my drink, I take a moment to turn in my seat and see what kind of audience remains here. A couple guys on their phones are at one table, half eaten food littered on the table in front of them. Across from them and a couple seats down is an older couple, maybe early 50s. The woman is laughing and the man's face lights up when he sees her smile, I long for that kind of love in my older years. Outside of them, there's not much worth mentioning around here. The game comes back from commerical, but as I begin to turn around I see something across the room. A beautiful, dark-haired woman returned inside from the smoking patio, I have no idea how I didn't see her earlier. Her eyes were as blue as a Kyanite stone, with a figure that would make an actual hourglass jealous.
"Hey Mikey... Make that two."
As Mike runs up my tab I take a good look around, this time more observant. I look for any guy sitting alone at a table, none. I look towards the window to see if anyone else is on the patio, none. I have no idea how this girl is here alone right now, but it's clear I need to make a move before anyone else notices. I finish the drink in my hand and place it on the bar, grabbing the two new ones as I make a B-line towards my future wife. When I get to her she's flipping through her phone in the corner, paying no mind to anything around her. I don't want to stare, but she has on one of those abdomen belts that goes on over her shirt that really accentuates what she's working with; and I don't want to be a creep, but GOD was it a good choice
"Excuse me..."
I say lightly, trying to not startle her. She looks up, un-gluing her eyes from the screen for a moment to meet with mine. That blue is hypnotizing, and if she were Medusa there would be more than one part of me that's made of stone right now.
"I got this for you. Are you here alone or is there a huge husband ready to barge in and kick my ass here?"
I talk with a smile, ladies love that smile. Or at least that's people tell me, I don't seem to have much luck in the female department. She seems to think I'm funny now, which means the alcohol in me is doing it's job. She graciously accepts my gift and responds.
"No no no, nothing like that. I'm here with my girlfriend Nancy, she's in the bathroom so I'm just waiting on her."
Her voice is beyond soothing. Actually, at this point I don't even know if that's true. The combination of me being absolutely captivated by her beauty and being more than a little drunk has me head over heels for this girl. She could recruit me to a cult with absolute ease at this point. I continue to make small talk with her and find out her name is Amanda, Amanda Beechum. She grew up a couple hours away in Pennsylvania and recently moved here for a job. I'm not a virgin or anything, but my luck with women has been worse than bad. But this girl is different, she's into me and I'm ready for this night to never end. Of course, eternal nights are non-existent so that isn't remotely feasible, but I could live in this moment forever. Just then, a blond girl that I'm assuming to be Nancy arrives and pretty much tells Amanda they have to go. She's reluctant, but her friend is physically pulling on her for god knows what reason. Before they head out I'm alert enough to get Amanda's number on a napkin, which to this point is likely the most clutch thing I've done in my life, and I've scored game-winning TDs!
With her gone my focus is back on the game, and even though we're getting blown out I can't help but smile like a school girl. It's actually embarrassing, especially in public like this. I stay for the entirety of the game, completely losing track of the amount of drinks I've had along the way. By the time the game is over, I'm legitimately the only customer remaining. I call for an uber, and spend the waiting time taking one last bathroom break.
I have no recollection of the ride home whatsoever, no idea what kind of car I got in, if it was a male or female driver, nothing. Good thing I didn't drive, but man how much did I drink? I send my mom a text to let her know I'm home safe. I'm 22, I have my own place, I pay my own bills, but I still have to check in with mom. At least someone cares. I walk to the kitchen to get some drunk munchies in, Doritos are my victim for the day. Doritos and a water. See, the healthy-ness of the water cancels out the obesity DNA Doritos are extracted from, so it balances out. Plus, sobering up probably isn't a bad idea at this point. I take a seat on my couch and feel my phone vibrate. It's mom, "Please go to bed." It's late, understood.
But I'm an adult, I'm off tomorrow, I make my own rules: I'm watching Sportscenter. I click it on to see some graphs showing how bad Scrub got killed today and hear the sound of some talking heads bad mouthing my team. No thanks. I switch over to HBO, something good has to be on. Pitch Perfect, jackpot, my secret obsession. I actually have no idea when I got changed, but I'm in my boxers and a tee shirt I wasn't wearing earlier. Again, HOW MUCH DID I DRINK? I slowly drift off to the sound of Anna Kendrick's rendition of Titanium in the iconic shower scene.
My couch in the living room instead of the bed in my actual bedroom
Sometime after 3 AM
I'm having the dream again. At this point I know it's a dream, but it still plays out. I remember the first few times, my excitement levels would skyrocket, then I'd wake up and be completely emotionally deflated. Now, I just enjoy it for what it is.
I'm on the field, it's crunch time. Down four with a minute twenty left in the fourth quarter to be exact, third and two with thirty yards to paydirt and two timeouts. I'm on the Hawks, paired up with my idol Trey Willie. We're up against the Outlaws, the team that ruined our dreams the last few seasons. This time, things will be different.
The handoff goes to Darlane Farlane, but he's stuffed immediately. Fourth and two, clock running, we like our personnel against theirs and audible to a pass out of the hurry up. It goes to me on a curl, I got just enough seperation to catch a tough ball with contact in front of Franklin Harris. Five yards and a new set of downs, we spike the ball with forty seconds remaining. First and ten, scrub has to avoid pressure and throw the ball away. I didn't have much time, but I need to get open in those spots. Thirty-five seconds, I run a slant and get some separation, but the ball doesn't go my way. Incomplete towards the sideline. Twenty-eight seconds, the ball is snapped. I get jammed up at the line and absolutely embarassed one on one against Harris, FUCK! But the line holds up, a rarity against Arizona. Deep ball downfield, CAUGHT! Willie catches it on a post but can't get to the endzone, ball on the three, timeout called.
Eighteen seconds. That's all we have, eighteen seconds with three yards ahead of us. We won't lose three in a row to these assholes. Ball snapped, I'm the hot read, running a fade and the ball goes my way. I jump, he jumps, but the ball goes over our heads. I was held! How could they not see that? Twelve seconds. It's a handoff, Darlane is fighting through the pile. All I see are bodies, just one big pile. Our guys are signalling touchdown, Arizona is saying no way. The clock is running and we're waiting on a call. THIRD DOWN. Timeout called, our last one. Three seconds remain, the late call screwed us out of a play. It's do or die from the goaline. The call comes in, playaction. I'm running a corner route.
At this point everything is going in bullet time, I make eye contact with Harris, and he looks back. His demeanor is that of someone who's been there and won this before, icewater running through his veins. I'm intimated, no other way around it, but I won't back down. The ball is snapped, I get a good first step. I fake to the inside, then shoot towards the corner in the middle of his stride, I have a step, the ball is perfect! I leap, I stretch, snag the ball, feet down, take the hit, maintain control, TOUCHDOWN! I spike the ball like I'm going for gold in olympic volleyball and my team mates run to celebrate. This is the epitome of success, this is who I want to be, this is bliss.
Then I wake up.
No alarm, so I hope I didn't have anything important to do. I grab my phone, 5% battery, lovely. Missed text from mom, "Are you alright?" of course I am. I flip through the messages from last night to see the "I'm home safe" message I sent is more like "un ghhpne dsafgr" and suddenly understand her worrying. A quick reply confirms that I'm fine and just went a bit too hard on the booze last night, as I'm somewhat known for, then I plug the phone in and leave it behind. My jeans are on the ground, let's see what's in my pockets: a receipt for way too much, a couple pennies, a losing scratch off, a bottle cap, and look at that, my wallet. Nice. I throw the pants back on the ground and put my wallet on the table. As it hits, a small white cloth falls from it. I pick it up, Amanda's number, fuck yeah! I'll worry about that later though, today is a big day. I throw some waffles on the iron and grab a cup of orange juice, preparing breakfast before my shower to get ready.
With the conclusion of the NSFL season comes the arrival of my eligibility for the DSFL. I've worked my whole life to get here, I made my name known at Maryland, and I'm ready for the next step. Today, I become a free agent, and all the work leading up to this is only the beginning. My work ehic got me this far, but I can't give up now. There are hundreds of players in the league, and hundreds more who think they're hungry enough to make it. I know I'm good enough, but I want to be the best. There were great receivers before me, there will certainly be great receivers after me, but if I don't become the Jerry Rice of the NSFL then I've let myself down.
For many this is when it's time to start celebrating, hell, I've gotten the congrats emails and texts from a dozen people already. But this isn't it. I'll celebrate when I raise the trophy for the first time, I'll celebrate when I'm announced as rookie of the year, then league MVP. I'll celebrate then I'm a hall of famer with records guys coming in can't even dream of. Some people get here and think good is good enough, but come to a revelation when they aren't remembered in the long run.
But me? I'm verging upon a genesis.[/div]
*Verging Upon a Genesis - manicmav36 - 10-19-2017
Wow. Great stuff, really looking forward to reading more of your work!
*Verging Upon a Genesis - cosbornballboy - 10-19-2017
Ayyy a Baltimore fan
*Verging Upon a Genesis - JohnWachter - 10-19-2017
(10-18-2017, 11:07 PM)cosbornballboy Wrote:Ayyy a Baltimore fan
Born and raised here irl, always been a huge Baltimore sports fan. Immediately got excited when I saw we have a team here, and then it was TOO easy to root for the underdog in the championship. They have my whole heart.
*Verging Upon a Genesis - cosbornballboy - 10-19-2017
(10-18-2017, 11:10 PM)JohnWachter Wrote:Born and raised here irl, always been a huge Baltimore sports fan. Immediately got excited when I saw we have a team here, and then it was TOO easy to root for the underdog in the championship. They have my whole heart.
:fan: :fan:
*Verging Upon a Genesis - BOOM™ - 10-19-2017
Excellent read and look forward to seeing more of your work. Welcome to the NSFL and I hope you enjoy your time here.
*Verging Upon a Genesis - ExemplaryChad - 10-19-2017
Welcome, friend!
Just moved from Bawlmer myself after spending 5 years there, and my family and I loved it. It's really a great city. I'll read and comment on your work later, assuming I find the time, but just wanted to say welcome, and glad to see you here.
:cheers:
*Verging Upon a Genesis - PDXBaller - 10-19-2017
This is amazing! I can tell you'll be rolling in the dough soon enough! Get this man some weekly training and equipment stat!!!
*Verging Upon a Genesis - SwagSloth - 10-19-2017
Definitely a great way to make a first impression. It sounds like you'll be a much welcome addition to the league. Welcome aboard!