Jeremy just stares at Luke and says, " The only reason you want me to enjoy these ladies and to stay out with you is that I'm the only one who can get you to drink responsibly, and if I don't stay out, you're going to stay out all night and not get an ounce of sleep. You'll show up drunk to the League meetings and might have a repeat of last year from what I have heard. "
Luke grins ear to ear while saying, " Yes, I am, and Yes, You are. " Luke is playing on Jeremy's loyalty to friends, teammates, etc.
Jeremy stares at Luke with a disapproving glare thinking that there is no logical reason to stay out except to help a friend and not embarrass himself. Jeremy rolls his eyes and then replies, " Fine, I'll stay out with you, but we're going to do things my way this time. " Then he thinks to himself, " I have a bad feeling about this. "
The only thing Jeremy remembers is waking up to the five O'Clock alarm and shutting it off, moaning and groaning, feeling exhausted. Shortly after shutting off the alarm, Jeremy hears a slight moan next to him; he quickly looks over and sees a blonde woman looking about her mid-twenties laying on her stomach with a Tattoo right above her butt, saying, " Princess. "
Jeremy mutters, " God Damnit Fucking, Luke. " He looks down and sees a condom still attached to his package. He must have fallen asleep shortly after fooling around with her. "I have never been able to experience sex without not remembering it, thanks to Luke. " Jeremy thought to himself while beating himself up.
He never had a girlfriend or fooled around during high school and College; Jeremy just focused on his grades and sports. He wanted to get settled into the pros before getting a significant other.
Jeremy went to the bathroom and threw the condom in the toilet after looking for holes, as he had always heard horror stories regarding athletes and drunken nights. He jumped in the shower and scrubbed himself down with soap. Being in the shower is so relaxing; Jeremy always thought it sounded like rain and could escape the world along with its pressure.
Jeremy got dressed in very nice dark denim jeans that hugged his thighs and calves as he slightly kept up his athletic form; it made his butt look so juicy. He wore a black compression t-shirt that clung onto his muscular torso and a black button-down dress shirt that was always pretty tight as his biceps were just big enough that every long sleeve seemed to look like it was going to burst by the seams. Jeremy fixed his hair a modern pompadour with somewhat shaved sides and combed his medium rugged beard. Once Jeremy was ready for the League meetings, he went to check on the woman to make sure that she was alright and apologize for having to go to work.
At the League meetings, everything was pretty much uneventful, outside of Luke being amused with himself for his little stunt the night before. The sessions were supposed to be two days long, but it was just a long Saturday ending an hour early at 5 pm. Luke invited the League owners to the MMA fight later that night at 8 pm. Jeremy decided to go to the fights, but he wasn't going to drink tonight because he wasn't going to chance anything with Luke.
Luke was giving Jeremy a hard time during the fights the night before. It wasn't the first time Luke pulled something like that with Jeremy, but Jeremy hoped that last night would be the last time Luke would get one on him.
A few months later, the beginning of the season was just around the corner, and the team was starting their last two tryouts and training camp. Jeremy was sitting at midfield about twenty rows up from the field, watching the tryouts unfold, sipping some bourbon when Coach Lombardi sat beside Jeremy. Lombardi says to Jeremy, " You know it's early to be drinking alcohol, right? by the way, Terrell and I don't like the team name that you went with, the Colorado Cannibals?; you're just asking for trouble, and the Mustangs might just go after the contract money that we gave you if you don't change it. "
Jeremy quickly turned and stared at Lombardi, then kept watching the tryouts and retorted, " The last time I checked, all of the paperwork for the team has only my name on it, so I make the decisions for the team, not anyone else, also the fans voted for the team name and chose the name. I only hired Terrell as a favor for you, so if he doesn't like the team name, he can quit, and I'll find another to coach the team. In regards to my money from the contract that you gave me, the team would look like a fool coming after me now as the Mustangs. You had a press conference with me saying, " You couldn't imagine how the team wouldn't give a local legend the money after what I've done for the community, and it wasn't my fault that I got injured, also the fact that I tried so hard to get back into the field for Mustangs. Remember also, Coach, if you want to come after the money, that our agreement was an under-the-table handshake deal, and if you come after the money, I will sell the team to someone who won't help you. You know I will because I don't want anything to do with football anymore. "
Before Coach Lombardi can reply, a linebacker, who is trying out for the team, lights up the quarterback, then Terrell blows the whistle. While the whistle was blown, Jeremy froze and had a flashback of the hit that ended his career. Jeremy was shaken out of the flashback by Coach Lombardi.
" Come on, we need to get down to the field. " barked Lombardi. As they head down to the field, Coach Terrell Hillis screams, " There are no Women allowed on the field. "
Philadelphia’s autumn sun filtered through the glass walls of the Talons’ NAFL practice facility, casting long shadows across the turf and weight room. The city pulsed with football fever: Jeremy’s name was already in MVP conversations, Lockjaw Blaze’s legendary career was the talk of morning radio, and the Talons were chasing another championship. But for Alexandra Jordan, the only woman on a NAFL roster, the spotlight had faded. Her story wasn’t front-page news anymore. She was back on the practice squad, her dream of suiting up on game day on hold—again.Yet Alexandra refused to let herself disappear.Practice Squad LeadershipMonday morning, the defensive coordinator called her into his office. “Jordan, I want you to lead the film session for the practice squad and rookies this week. Teach them what you know. Make sure they’re ready.”Alexandra blinked, surprised. She’d always been vocal, but this was different—an official responsibility, a sign of trust. She nodded, determination
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
The city of Philadelphia was electric. The Talons’ home opener was more than just a game—it was a coronation, a test, and a promise all at once. The defending champions had returned, banners rippling in the late summer breeze, and the stadium was a cauldron of hope and expectation. Black, silver, and teal flags waved from every seat, and the roar of the crowd was a living, breathing thing.Alexandra Jordan stood on the sideline, helmet in hand, heart pounding. She wore her practice squad jersey, the only woman in the NAFL, and watched as the team she’d fought so hard to join took the field. She was close—so close she could taste it. But for now, she was on the outside looking in, her name just missing from the final 53-man roster. The sting was sharp, but the fire in her chest burned hotter.Jeremy, the Talons’ starting quarterback and last year’s championship hero, jogged onto the field to a thunderous ovation. His name echoed through the stadium, and Alexandra felt a surge of pride.
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
Philadelphia’s summer air was thick with humidity and expectation. The Talons’ practice facility buzzed with the energy of a team that knew what it meant to be hunted. Last year’s championship banner hung above the field, a daily reminder that every opponent would bring their best, and every returning player was expected to do more.Alexandra Jordan jogged onto the turf, her cleats biting into the grass. This was her second season with the Talons, and she was still on the practice squad—a veteran now, but not a star. She was the only woman on a NAFL roster, the first to ever play in a championship game, and the only one in a league of men. The Philly media never let her forget it, but neither did they let her forget her legacy: three Cannibals rings, a reputation for leadership, and a relentless drive that had brought her to the edge of history.She paused at the sideline, glancing up at the championship banner. She remembered the euphoria of Denver, the parade, the confetti, the feel
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