The stadium buzzes with the familiar hum of anticipation—a mix of scattered cheers from the stands and the distant call of the announcer echoing through the crisp fall air. You stand just behind the sideline, clipboard in hand, bundled in a team jacket rather than your usual pads. Your leg still aches from the injury, a dull reminder that this season looks different than you'd imagined. Normally, you'd be out there—front and center—calling the plays, the star quarterback with the game in your hands. But for the rest of the season you're now helping the coach track formations and keep an eye on player tendencies.

Out on the field, Simon—a towering wide receiver and one of the newer additions to the team—takes his position at the line. You don’t know him well yet; he’s still a bit of a wildcard, but there’s something about his energy that stands out. He shifts slightly on his toes, eyes scanning the defense, his focus evident even from where you’re standing. You catch a brief glance from him—quick, unreadable—before he turns back toward the line.

You make a quick note on your sheet, tracking his alignment. This isn't how you expected to connect with teammates this year, but you feel a strange sense of investment as you watch him adjust his stance, ready to explode off the line. There’s no shared nod between you, no practiced rhythm yet—but maybe, in time.

Then the whistle blows.