In the crowd, little George had seen everything that just went down.
He walked over to Mike and said, "That guy's name is Sam. He's a total bully who only picks on people he thinks he can push around. A bunch of the new guys on the team have gotten crap from him..."
Guys like Sam with their rotten attitudes love using whatever edge they've got to mess with people.
They never do anything bad enough to get in real trouble, but they're always pulling little sneaky moves behind the scenes.
If someone like that sets their sights on you and you don't push back, they'll figure you're an easy target and stick to you like glue.
Little George knew how tough Sam could be to deal with, so he asked, "You want me to tell the coach what just happened?"
Mike spotted Sam across the crowd, looking all smug with himself. He cracked a smile and said, "Nah, I can handle this kind of small stuff on my own."
"Alright," little George replied. He figured ratting someone out to the coach was pretty lame anyway. Then he added, "If he comes at you again, let me know. I've still got some unfinished business with him myself."
Last time, over that thing with little Sheldon, little George and Sam had gotten into it on the field.
The coach had shut down that fight before it got too big, but it left bad blood between the two of them.
As little George was talking, the break wrapped up.
Next up was time for the team's contact drills.
After Coach George laid out the practice plan, he pulled Mike aside to give him some one-on-one tips on tackling technique.
That's when Sam ditched his training partner and came over, pretending to be all helpful. "Coach, just talking about it isn't gonna cut it. I'd be happy to help our new teammate get used to how things really work on the field."
As he said it, he thumped his chest, putting on this big innocent grin. If you didn't know better, you'd actually think he was trying to be nice to Mike.
But Coach George knew a thing or two about Sam's true colors and wasn't buying the good-guy act.
Even though Sam sounded super sincere, the coach was about to shoot him down for Mike.
Mike locked eyes with Sam for a second and caught that nasty glint in the guy's gaze. So he smiled and said, "Coach, he's got a point. Nothing beats real practice."
Seeing Mike go along with it, Coach George shook his head. "Fine, if you're sure..."
With the coach's okay, Mike and Sam geared up with their helmets and headed to the middle of the field.
"Kid, I gotta hand it to you—you've got guts," Sam said, his voice muffled through the helmet. "I'll go easy on you..."
From the tone alone, Mike could tell Sam had that cocky "I've already won" look plastered on his face.
Mike hooked his fingers in a "come on" gesture and snagged two small glowing orbs off the pumped-up Sam.
[Strength +5]
[Speed +3]
These single-stat boosts wouldn't instantly beef up Mike's physique.
But with those points banked, just a little training would let Mike smash through his current limits way easier.
Looked like this big, powerhouse Sam was turning out to be a pretty solid "crop" to harvest.
When Mike didn't bite on his taunting, Sam kept going. "Since you're new, you gotta work on defense first. I'm coming at you—try not to get knocked into next week!"
Sam clearly had zero intention of actually teaching any techniques. As he talked, he was already coiling up for a charge.
Mike didn't care about the attitude. He spread his stance, leaned forward a bit, elbows up—ready to meet him head-on.
Thanks to his [Devil's Body], Mike wasn't scared of contact at all. That was exactly why he'd agreed to this.
The two slammed together. Mike twisted to absorb the impact, but Sam grabbed him with a cheap little hold.
What started as a normal grapple quickly turned into a full-on scuffle.
Sam had the size and experience edge, while Mike was quicker and fought dirtier.
After trading blows, neither one really got the upper hand.
As Sam backed off to line up for another rush, Mike's voice hit his ears: "That all you got? Skip lunch today?"
The casual trash talk hit like a bomb.
Sam, already pissed that he hadn't dominated, lost it completely.
"You little punk—just warming up! Now I'm gonna teach you some respect for your elders..." Sam roared, lowered his head, and charged helmet-first straight at Mike.
In football, leading with your helmet like that is one of the dirtiest, most dangerous fouls you can pull.
Mike had already learned the rules from little George. Seeing Sam go low like that, Mike wasn't about to let it slide.
Truth is, this was exactly what Mike had been waiting for.
Inside the rules, he might not stack up against a veteran like Sam yet. But if rules were out the window? Mike wasn't worried one bit.
As Sam came in with the helmet spear, Mike acted like he had no clue it was illegal—kept his hands up in a "defense" pose.
In reality, he'd already shifted his weight to his left side, right leg loaded and ready.
BAM!
The crash echoed louder than before.
Mike gritted through the sharp pain in his arms, then whipped his right leg up with full force—straight into Sam's groin.
With a howling "Aaaargh!", Sam curled up like a shrimp, writhing on the ground clutching himself.
His scream was so gut-wrenching that everyone on the field turned to look.
Mike ignored the stares. He put on an angry face, yanked off his helmet, and stormed toward Sam, cursing under his breath.
Kick 'em while they're down!
Seeing the fire in Mike's eyes, team captain Aaron rushed over and planted himself between them.
Before Aaron could say a word, Mike growled, "Move."
Aaron had been watching and knew Sam started it with the foul.
Caught off guard by Mike's bark, the easygoing captain froze for a second.
Mike slipped past him in that moment.
He loomed over Sam, bent down, and ripped off the guy's helmet. Ignoring the pained grimace, Mike swung the helmet hard across Sam's face.
A few teeth flew out. Blood poured everywhere. Sam was left with nothing but terror and helplessness in his eyes.
Hearing the wail, Aaron finally snapped out of it and called the guys over to pull Mike back.
Once things calmed down, Coach George finally strolled up, looking concerned. "What the hell happened here?"
Truth was, Coach George had been keeping an eye on Mike the whole time. When he saw Sam go helmet-first, he'd started heading over to stop it.
But before he could get there, Mike had already countered.
Seeing Mike come out on top—and with his personal soft spot for the kid—the coach conveniently took his time arriving.
When the coach asked, Captain Aaron laid it out straight: "Looks like Sam started it by pulling an illegal move to piss Mike off. Then it escalated, and... well, this."
Coach George didn't press for more details. He checked Sam's injuries, then had Aaron and some guys haul him off to the school clinic.
Seeing the school bully get carried out in that sorry state, a bunch of teammates who'd been on the receiving end of Sam's crap before couldn't hide their smirks.
In the crowd, little George shot Mike a big thumbs-up.
Once Sam was gone, Coach George turned back. "Alright, somebody tell me exactly what went down."