Page 26 of Playing the Field

Chapter Seven

Anastasia

The second half starts at a breakneck pace, the stadium buzzing with anticipation. The air is thick with sweat, adrenaline, and the sharp scent of freshly churned turf. I adjust the strap of my medical kit, standing near the sideline with the rest of the team staff, my eyes locked on the field as the teams charge forward.

I knew this game was going to be intense, but seeing it unfold this close? Feeling the impact of every hit reverberate through the ground beneath my feet? It’s something else entirely.

Seattle kicks off, sending the ball high into the air, and Dominic is already tracking it. He takes it cleanly, his massive frame absorbing the impact as Seattle’s forwards slam into him like wrecking balls. He holds strong, securing the ball as a ruck forms over him, bodies piling in like a train wreck in slow motion.

“Push!” Finn Gallagher yells, his voice hoarse as he hovers over the breakdown. His hands are lightning-quick, digging for the ball and flinging it out to Toby, who wastes no time shifting play wide.

Toby’s a playmaker in the truest sense, always scanning, always reading ahead. He sends a sharp pass to Nico Vasquez, who hits the line at full speed, drawing in two defenders before popping the ball to Elliot at outside center.

Seattle’s defense is pressing hard, but Elliot’s footwork is pure magic, dodging one, two defenders before he’s finally dragged down near midfield.

The crowd is on edge, the tension thick as the ruck forms again.

Seattle counters fast.

Their flanker charges into the breakdown, and in an instant, the ball is turned over. My stomach clenches as Seattle’s scrum-half snatches it and fires a looping pass wide, their winger already at full speed down the sideline.

Leo Matthisen is the last line of defense.

He’s fast—explosive even—but Seattle’s player has a head start. The crowd holds its breath as Leo dives, fingertips grazing the winger’s jersey—but it’s not enough.

The player dives over the try line, grounding the ball as the referee signals.

Seattle scores.

My heart pounds as I watch the ref step back toward the posts, raising his arm. The conversion is good.

21-17, Seattle.

The stadium’s roar is deafening. The Tigers regroup under the posts, breathing heavy, chests heaving, their frustration thick in the air.

They need to answer. Fast.

Toby doesn’t panic. The second the ball is back in play, he’s already plotting. We kick deep, forcing Seattle to play out from inside their 22-meter line, and the defensive pressure is immediate.

The Tigers are relentless in the breakdown, hitting hard, forcing mistakes. Malik Dembélé is everywhere, a menace at the ruck, hunting for another turnover.

Then it happens.

Seattle’s scrum-half hesitates for a fraction of a second too long, and Finn seizes the opportunity, charging in and stripping the ball right out of his hands.

The crowd erupts.

Finn spins and fires the ball straight to Toby, who spots a gap in the defense and wastes no time. He sells a dummy pass, shifts his weight, and bolts through the gap, leaving two Seattle defenders grasping at air.

I suck in a sharp breath as he tears up the field.

Seattle’s fullback closes in fast, but Toby is already popping the ball wide to Max Dupont on the left wing.

Max catches in stride and accelerates, every muscle in his body propelling him forward as Seattle’s cover defense scrambles.

Go, go, go.

He chips the ball over the last defender, sprints past him, and with a perfectly timed dive, plants it in the try zone.