Ifeatu Chineze: Bearer of the Crown
It hadn’t been an easy road for the number one overall recruit out of Loyola-Istria. He had dominated as a senior in high school, throwing for a whopping 3,103 yards and 31 touchdown passes in that final season. It had been enough to propel him into that aforementioned top slot as the most sought-after recruit in the nation.
And in terms of recruiting, most had simply penciled him in as going to the University of Loyola-Istria, to take the crown of Isaka Jawara and continue their program’s success.
Well, that wasn’t exactly how that turned out.
When Richardson University, in Ranoria, came calling, he accepted their offer, leaving the Blue Thunder seemingly at the altar, and taking up with a squad that he felt would more fit his skill set, with a big, perennially strong offensive line and a coach who’d been known to shift his offensive philosophy based on the talent on the team. Most recently, he’d worked with another pocket passer, John Garrett.
Even coming to live in Ranoria was a bit of a culture shock in and of itself. The primarily white populace and higher level of income was a surprise. While the area around Richardson itself wasn’t quite what he was used to in his hometown, the country as a whole enjoyed a higher standard of living, and even getting wholly used to the German tongue wasn’t easy for him.
However, when he’d come in as the front runner for the starting job, expected to help in a not seamless, but smooth transition, the program had its worst season in a decade. The offensive line, in particular, struggled, leaving the slow-moving pocket passer helpless. And the arrival of Alton McNair, the younger brother of a program legend, hadn’t made the fight any easier.
Quarterback changes that year happened almost routinely as Richard Steinheil struggled to get a grip on his offense. Tucker Wolfe couldn’t push the ball down field, and defenses eventually just stacked the box against him. Chineze couldn’t handle pressure and struggled with tough reads, leading to turnovers. Alton McNair struggled with accuracy and a chip-on-the-shoulder brand of arrogance.
Overall? Chineze had managed only 4 starts, throwing for 1,091 yards, 13 touchdowns, and a whopping eight interceptions in that span. He added another 451 yards, 3 touchdowns, and 2 interceptions when stepping in to relieve one of the others. His competition hadn’t fared much better, though, Wolfe tossing 527 yards, 2 touchdowns, and three interceptions in 3 starts. Alton had actually made a case for himself, totaling 1,850 total yards and 21 touchdowns, passing and rushing combined, in six starts, but he turned the ball over fourteen times as well. And in their playoff game, all three suffered a complete meltdown.
McNair, who had started the last four games of the year and the Northeastern Conference Championship, started the game...and proceeded to toss two interceptions and fumble once before he was pulled. Tucker Wolfe fumbled twice and looked completely inept, and finally, Chineze got his chance.
Down 24-7, with three defensive touchdowns from their opponent, Chineze mounted a drive, even firing a touchdown pass early in the fourth quarter that gave their offense some life, a 39 yard floater that showcased his prodigal accuracy and mechanics. He guided another drive that led to a touchdown, and while their defense surrendered another field goal, he had a chance to win it in the final moment on a deep ball, but was confused on a complicated coverage look that led to a game-sealing interception.
It had hurt his confidence, but the NSCF season changed all of that. He won the backup job in the ensuing practices, even as Tucker Wolfe was named the starter, and though Alton McNair stepped in for a few games when the Ranorian crowd insisted upon it, Chineze eventually took the reigns, and guided this Governor squad to a 10-3 record in the end, including a thrilling, 20-17 overtime win over his native country’s Loyola-Istria Blue Thunder, the school that he had left at the altar.
And now, as he stood in the rain, hours after practice had ended, with his receivers working on route concepts and their timing, he knew what he’d done. Three had come into the season vying for the right to take the Mantle of Richardson’s starting quarterback.
A mantle that had come from John Garrett, which he had accepted from Derek McNair, two of the best quarterbacks in Ranorian college history. And by the time they decided to hang up their cleats, perhaps two of the best in professional history, as well.
He’d beaten out a former recruit not too dissimilar from himself in Tucker Wolfe, from whom injuries and blows to his confidence had, over the years, snapped away his enormous talent and siphoned so much of his much-praised work ethic. And, with even more difficult, he’d taken the spot away from an athletic freak in Alton McNair who refused to believe that he could be beaten.
And now, it was up to him. He had taken this crown, this spotlight as the centerpiece of the premier program in Ranoria, despite all misgivings from the fan base, and he intended to wield the scepter that came with it, even if that scepter was an oblong sack of leather.
“Vice!” He shouted to his running back, a fellow freshman whom he’d become good friends with, “run that one a little deeper.”
The back scratched his head, tussling his long, back-length dreads, but tossed the ball to Chineze. “I’m supposed to go two yards ahead of the line, right? It’s just a checkdown.” As for Vice, he was now an established star himself, giving the Governors a bit of a “big 3” with Chineze at the helm, Vice in the backfield, and another Banijan in Kieran Kweo-Atkinson, the best wide receiver in Ranoria, out wide. Actually, Banijans made up a good amount of this team’s core. The quarterback, their best player on offense, and arguably their best man on defense in Isaiah Bryce.
Chineze nodded, appreciating his knowledge of the playbook, “You’re right, but we were simulating a third and four there. So take a sharper angle when you’re running,” he demonstrated with his fingers, “that way it’s easier to turn upfield and move the sticks.”
“Ah,” the young, athletic runner nodded, understanding, and then took his spot in the shotgun beside Chineze, the tank of a man shirtless, not afraid to show off his physique to any passerby, makes sense. Ready when you are, Ice.”
Chineze smirked at the nickname that Vice had given him, considering it easier to pronounce than his name, Ifeatu. After their last win, it had even started to catch on with some of their teammates. “Same to you, Vince.”
He didn’t need to look over to know that ‘Vice’ Jackson was giving him the finger. It was a common mistake that people made, not really understanding why anyone would name their child a word that meant sin, but that’s a story for another time. After all, they had a few more plays to run through as Chineze simulated a snap.
“Seeet...hit!”
“Yo, Ice.” Alton McNair said from behind him. He’d been at the passing run throughs they’d been doing, after all, he needed all the practice he could get. But he looked troubled, and wasn’t normally this...well, passive. Chineze was used to his interactions with McNair ending poorly, the other quarterback’s fiery, competitive nature meaning that he only saw him as a block in his path. “Can we talk for a minute?” After a pause, he looked to Vice Jackson, “Alone?”
The runner, who’d been walking with his quarterback, nodded. “Yeah, that’s coo. I’ll see ya later bro.” He walked off, drawstring bag slung over his back, undoubtedly to walk back to his dorm, wearing nothing but gym shorts and a beanie that barely fit over his dreads. across campus. There was no dress code, per say, but there weren’t a lot of guys that would get away with that, either. That doesn’t even mention the fact that it was about 2 degrees Celsius at the moment.
“God, he’s gonna get himself into trouble one of these days, I swear.” Ifeatu shook his head, “Or maybe catch a cold.”
“Yeh,” Alton nodded, but couldn’t meet Chineze’s eyes, looking as if he was struggling to get the words out.
“Hey,” Ifeatu got him to look up, “Is everything alright man?”
“I-“ Alton closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “I wanted to say I’m sorry. I’ve been an ass to you since camp, and you don’t deserve it. You’re a good guy, and I treated you like shit.”
Chineze was, bluntly, stunned. He’d never seen McNair vulnerable like this. The athletic freak had always put on such a a confident, fiery demeanor. This caught him off guard.
“Look, I’m better than you. I believe that, and I always will. But we’re stuck where we are right now, and I wanted to let you know, we’re going to do whatever we can to help you do your job, and whatever we can to help you win.”
It took Richardson’s current starter a moment to process all of that, but soon, it clicked. “Wait, ‘we?’”
“Yeah. ‘We.’”
He turned to see junior, and now third stringer, Tucker Wolfe step out of the shadows.
“Look, unlike Alton here, I have no room to say I should be on the field. You two blow me away. Maybe before my injury, b-“ he cut himself off, shaking his head, “No, sorry, I’ll go on a rant. Look, my point is, Alton here is all in. We talked. He’s been going through recover drills and his new role with a bit of a ‘hell with this’ mood. And honestly, I’ve been too focused on taking the starting job back too help you out.” He sighed, obviously resigned to his fate, “Look, I’m going to help you. I know coverages, I can read defenses like the back of my hand, I learned that from John the past few years, and I know the nuances of the playbook better than either of you. I’m going to help you learn them, and I’m going to help you get better at recognizing defenses and making reads pre-snap. It lets you play faster, much faster, and it’s the only reason that I’ve been able to get on the field. And I’ll help Alton, too, to recognize man and zone coverage, and to find the holes in zone.”
None of them spoke for a moment. This was a lot. The three of them hadn’t been on good terms, and it was part of what contributed to the team’s first round exit in the domestic playoffs.
That could not, and would not, happen again, and Chineze knew that they were all thinking it.
“Guys, I...” He shook his head, there was no point in trying to think of something fancy and hard hitting to say. “I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”
“Hell yeah dog,” McNair smirked, “I don’t want next week to be my last in a red.”
“What do you mean? You’re a freshman. You’ve got a few more years left in you, right?” He was confused, as far as he knew, McNair was a freshman, and there was no way he’d quit on football, he knew that much. The man’s passion was evident even to those whom didn’t know him.
“Yeah, but not here.” Alton shook his head, his own, shorter dreads tumbling as he did so, “I’m transferring to Sadeg State next season. I’m a quarterback.”
“Sadeg State!?” That was a shocker, “What about Cold Hill!? Everyone says Thorn’s leaving this year, you could go play there! You’re talking about leaving the country man!”
“I know.” He frowned, looking a bit defeated, “But I...god. Sorry, this is tough. But look, my brother, Derek, I’m sure that you’ve heard of him?” Chineze nodded. Everyone in the country knew about the electric, dual threat quarterback for the Memphis Steamers, and being at Richardson, there was no escaping the tales of his exploits here.
“Well, look. I’ve been in his shadow, trying to outrun him by following in his footsteps my whole life, trying to outpace where he was at whatever point I’m at.” His voice cracked at the end there, and he looked as if he was about to cry, “W-we, I, I need a change of scenery. I have to follow my own path, because this one sure as hell isn’t working.”
Chineze’s mouth parted a bit in empathy. Alton, just saying that, looked absolutely devastated, as if telling someone about a decision that had already been done made it all too real. As if he’d just admitted to throwing away his life’s dream. And there was something else tearing at him, something else that he couldn’t see.
And while he wasn’t normally the extremely emotional type, he embraced Alton, hugging the smaller quarterback. “Hey. Don’t lose faith. It didn’t work here. That’s okay. I’ve never seen anyone grind the way that you do. You’ll get there, and no matter what, I’ve got your back. I know we haven’t gotten along well, but you’re my brother you son of a bitch, and no matter where you go, you’re my teammate. Don’t forget that.”
He could feel Alton’s shoulders quaking, as if he were holding back sobs, and two took a step back, Wolfe shaking his head. “Look, guy, I know it’s been hard on all of us, but let’s get this thing going.” He put a hand in, the three of them standing in a bit of a triangle.
“Damn straight,” Alton, “I don’t have long in this uniform,” he reached in as well, “I’m damn well want some hardware to show for it.”
Chineze smiled, thoroughly feeling uplifted by the entire scene before him, “Hell yeah guys.” He joined his palm with theirs, and they looked to him to decide the breakdown. He could have done the typical ‘Governors,’ but that was too cheesy. So instead, he decided to go with something different, something that he’d use from now on, and that would catch on with the entire team over the next couple of years.
It wasn’t a perfect three musketeers, they’d had their spats, but so did all brothers.
And they weren’t all where they wanted to be, but they had all admitted to that, and were ready to make the most of the situation.
And so, Chineze, on the spot, came up with the Governor’s new breakdown.
“Brotherhood on 3! One, two, three,”
“Brotherhood!”
Tucker Wolfe sighed as he left Richardson’s football locker room, staring down at his right hand. Once, his arm had been enough. Once he’d been seen as a generational passer who had a sure fire career in the pros. Now? Now he had a torn shoulder that seemed to have a very real limit as to how strong he could get it. It led to inaccuracies when he threw the 35 to 40 yards that were his maximum range, overcompensating with his lower body. He’d never been the same since, even if he was a guy who studied film with a fervor.
Despite that, he was intent on winning championship this season, and if that meant teaching Ifeatu Chineze everything that he knew in terms of quarterbacking, then so be it. But next year, he was gone. He had an offer on the table from Vricksinburg State that he fully intended to take up.
And Alton? Alton stayed, slumped against the wall. He hadn’t been totally honest. Yeah, it hurt to admit that he had failed here, and it hurt that he was going to transfer, but that wasn’t all that was tearing him up.
He hadn’t spoken to Derek in years. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t seen each other, but they’d generally exchanged a quick pleasantry and avoided each other.
And it hurt.
Yes. His brother was the source of his scorn, his humiliation, and his failing to live up to expectations. But at the same time, Derek had been his best friend, and, really, still was. He didn’t have anyone to confide in about what he was feeling, and Ifeatu Chineze had come closer Han anyone had in years.
So was he going to stay at Richardson? No. That just wasn’t possible. But damn if he wasn’t going to give this team everything he had and more to achieve what they were reaching for. He’d fight through the pain, because he couldn’t afford to deal with it right now. He didn’t have the luxury of working through his own issues right now.
Because, as of now, the only thing that mattered was getting that ring, some hardware to show for his time here. And damn if he, along with the others, was going to let anyone stand in his way.
