Telegraph Ave: Oakland High

Chapter 35: Homecoming

War was finally upon us.

It's a cold Friday evening, and rain fell from the heavens knocking against our helmets. Our jerseys were damp, gloves were sleek, and the turf was soaked beneath our cleats. Everyone who showed up to the game tonight all knew that the weather was going to get a little crazy.

Never did the rain stop thousands of people showing up, filling the bleachers up to its brim. Everyone in the city of Oakland knew it was our homecoming game, and on top of that, we play against our biggest rival—Oakland Tech. Both sides of the Marching Bands were playing their HBCU music, cars were still rolling in through the parking lot, and the news stations kept their cameras rolling on both teams.

Tonight, Markus, Jordan, August, and I were the chosen four for the coin toss. That'll be my first time being included on a coin toss ever, and I get to stand face to face with our enemies. I could already spot the four people being chosen on Oakland Tech,  and one of them consists of Michael.

Just the man we wanted to see...

Jordan exhaled heavily, and Markus had his hands bald up in a fist—jumping up and down in one place. I kept eye contact with the chosen captains and kept all of my composure to myself, but my body language spoke louder than silence. Skylar and Julio had their cameras rolling on us, as they both had their identical raincoats shielding them from the weather.

None of us showed out for the Camera this time, we just allowed our media to do what they did best.

"Captains!" We all heard the referee shout and our attention faced him. "Make your way!"

The captains on both sides of the field began to make their way towards the middle of the 50-yard line. The outcry on both sides of the stands became louder, and the rain became slightly heavier by the second. Making our way in the middle of the field, we heard our team in the end-zone doing their chant, and it carried itself over to the stands.

"Wiiiiild Caaaaaats! Wiiiiild Caaaaaats!"

It felt incredible, experiencing the beginning of something enormous first hand. As much as I wanted to look back at my surroundings, I kept my eyes forward on the bigger picture—now face to face with Tech themselves.

We stared into their eyes, as they started into ours—not caring for anything else in the world. Wind traveled through our helmets, like an open window in a moving car. The field lights reflected off of every drop of rain that fell towards earth. Adrenaline rushed it's way up to our skulls, and blood boiled within our veins.

Felt like I was close to jumping out of my skin.

"Alright, shake hands." The referee commanded, but none of us moved.

Michael was in front of me, and a grin swept across his face from the inside of his helmet. My expression never changed, and I didn't want to shake hands with them at all, I'm sure they felt the same way towards us.

And to be fair, I don't give a shit.

"Men." Referee 2 spoke out. "Have some sportsmanlike conduct, and shake hands."

It's easy to be foul, and it's hard to do the right thing. But being the bigger person I know I am, I'll show good conduct—for this one moment.

I hesitated, but I ended up sticking my hand out to Michael, and he looked down at it in disgust. He slapped my palm and kept it moving. We all dapped each other up just to please the referee, but we all knew how we felt about each other. Now I finally realize why these two schools have been rivals for decades, they have no respect for anybody.

Just a bunch of thugs in teenage bodies.

"Alright, Oakland High. Heads or Tails?" Referee 1 asked Jordan.