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just_muse_me | 15.8.3. The Worst Week of My Life
Mar. 19th, 2009 12:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
texas33forever15.8.3. The Worst Week of My Life
Tim would never really forget that deep, wet coldness that felt like it was seeping so far into his skin he could feel it in his veins. The rain beating down on him was so hard it was almost physically painful when the large drops pelted his skin and soaked his clothing. He hadn't been surprised by Coach's tactics, though. If the team ever needed a boot up the ass as a whole, it was then. Tim was at the crux of it all, too. It was then, running that hard course in the pouring rain amidst the pitch black night with his team mates upchucking in the mud all around him that Tim let the enormity of Jason's accident weigh heavily on his shoulders. He might have ran the same distance and the same amount of laps in the same time in the same rain as the rest of the team, but to Tim, it felt like he had done the course one hundred times over. He wasn't just carrying himself that night in the rain, he was carrying Jason, too.
It didn't ever feel like enough. And it wasn't. But Coach didn't have them out there to reach their quota of "enough". He had them out there to feel and to learn. He had them out there to open their eyes and realise that to win, nothing was easy, and that to lose was even harder. He had them out there to feel in their hearts that being a footballer wasn't just rally girls, booze, sex and winning. It was sacrifice. Deep, painful, crushing sacrifice. And until they learned how to take that like men, they weren't worth the mud on their shoes as men or as Panthers.
It should have been enlightening. Tim should have taken the wake-up call and ran with it like a ball to touchdown. He should have walked home like Coach directed him and processed the thoughts into the exact places they all should be to take the blow of losing the best QB the team had seen to strengthen from it. But no. Tim was a Riggins and Riggins were born to fuck up, right? They were born to be losers. They were born to continuously do the wrong fucking thing. He was barely thinking straight when Lyla had him on the side of the road screaming at him. To this day, he couldn't even remember the words coming out of her mouth. The kiss came with almost as much force as a slap to the face. He shouldn't have reciprocated. He had barely broken up with Tyra, to whom he had been a total slimy bastard to. Lyla was Six's girl. It shouldn't matter that she was abruptly and unexpectedly shoving her tongue down his throat after one of the most draining nights... weeks... of his entire life. All it would've took was a pointed push to extract her from his mouth and arms. Jason wouldn't have been hurt. Tyra wouldn't have been hurt. Tim wouldn't have lost his best friend, nor would he have gained a ridiculous crush on a chick that was so out of his league and different to him that he would've been safer wanting Angelina Jolie's ass.
But when does a Riggins ever make the right choice?
That's easy.
Never.
... and there should've been no regrets.
Tim's Jason Street is![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
itwontstopme and his Coach Taylor is pantherscoach. Not binding on any other FNL muses.
Word Count | 561
Tim would never really forget that deep, wet coldness that felt like it was seeping so far into his skin he could feel it in his veins. The rain beating down on him was so hard it was almost physically painful when the large drops pelted his skin and soaked his clothing. He hadn't been surprised by Coach's tactics, though. If the team ever needed a boot up the ass as a whole, it was then. Tim was at the crux of it all, too. It was then, running that hard course in the pouring rain amidst the pitch black night with his team mates upchucking in the mud all around him that Tim let the enormity of Jason's accident weigh heavily on his shoulders. He might have ran the same distance and the same amount of laps in the same time in the same rain as the rest of the team, but to Tim, it felt like he had done the course one hundred times over. He wasn't just carrying himself that night in the rain, he was carrying Jason, too.
It didn't ever feel like enough. And it wasn't. But Coach didn't have them out there to reach their quota of "enough". He had them out there to feel and to learn. He had them out there to open their eyes and realise that to win, nothing was easy, and that to lose was even harder. He had them out there to feel in their hearts that being a footballer wasn't just rally girls, booze, sex and winning. It was sacrifice. Deep, painful, crushing sacrifice. And until they learned how to take that like men, they weren't worth the mud on their shoes as men or as Panthers.
It should have been enlightening. Tim should have taken the wake-up call and ran with it like a ball to touchdown. He should have walked home like Coach directed him and processed the thoughts into the exact places they all should be to take the blow of losing the best QB the team had seen to strengthen from it. But no. Tim was a Riggins and Riggins were born to fuck up, right? They were born to be losers. They were born to continuously do the wrong fucking thing. He was barely thinking straight when Lyla had him on the side of the road screaming at him. To this day, he couldn't even remember the words coming out of her mouth. The kiss came with almost as much force as a slap to the face. He shouldn't have reciprocated. He had barely broken up with Tyra, to whom he had been a total slimy bastard to. Lyla was Six's girl. It shouldn't matter that she was abruptly and unexpectedly shoving her tongue down his throat after one of the most draining nights... weeks... of his entire life. All it would've took was a pointed push to extract her from his mouth and arms. Jason wouldn't have been hurt. Tyra wouldn't have been hurt. Tim wouldn't have lost his best friend, nor would he have gained a ridiculous crush on a chick that was so out of his league and different to him that he would've been safer wanting Angelina Jolie's ass.
But when does a Riggins ever make the right choice?
That's easy.
Never.
... and there should've been no regrets.
Tim's Jason Street is
itwontstopme and his Coach Taylor is pantherscoach. Not binding on any other FNL muses.Word Count | 561
