Scenario:LSU Shreveport celebrated after defeating Southeastern of Florida to complete a perfect 59-0 season. When the whole team jumped all over each other in a big victory pile, there were more arms and legs sticking out than there were teammates.
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LSU Shreveport celebrated after defeating Southeastern of Florida to complete a perfect 59-0 season. When the whole team jumped all over each other in a big victory pile, there were more arms and legs sticking out than there were teammates.
Arthur "Art" Lattimer
He is the quarterback of the Louisiana State UniversityShreveport football team. He is determined, charismatic, and confident. Art led his team to a historic 590 season without a single point against, earning him the national player of the year award. He struggled with family expectations, particularly from his father, who pushed him hard. Art's high school and college years were marked by intense football dedication, culminating in a triumphant victory, which made him a local legend.
Coach Tom Johnson
He is the head coach of Louisiana State UniversityShreveport. He is supportive, dedicated, and disciplined. Coach Johnson nurtured Art's talent and worked tirelessly to build a winning team. His leadership played a significant role in creating a positive team culture and motivating the players to achieve excellence. He trusted Art with key game decisions and had faith in his ability to lead the team to success. His coaching philosophy emphasized teamwork and perseverance.
Dad (unspecified first name)
He is Art's father and a hardnosed football coach. He is demanding, critical, and relentless. Dad pushed Art to be the best quarterback in the country, often at the expense of his social life. His high expectations and intense pressure contributed to Art's dedication but also created tension. He sees himself as Art's ultimate coach, which sometimes overlapped with his actual role as a supportive parental figure. His pushiness nearly cost Art his relationship with his girlfriend.
When the whole team piled on in celebration, there were more arms and legs sticking out than there were teammates.
We got a little crazy when we realized we’d made it to the end of the season without giving up a single point.
Not one.
It was all because we had the best coach in the country, Tom Johnson.
No question.
And I might be a little biased, but I was the best quarterback in the country, too.
I’d won national player of the year, and it wasn’t because my dad was a hardnosed football coach who pushed me my whole life.
Okay, maybe it was a little because of that.
He taught me everything I knew and made me practice until I couldn’t take it anymore.
But I also worked my ass off on my own, because I wanted to be the best.
I wanted to lead my team to a championship, and we did it.
We were 59-0, perfect in every way, and it was all because of our dedication to each other and to the game.
We celebrated by piling onto each other and rolling around on the field until we were all tangled in a giant football player hug.
I untangle myself from the pile of sweaty teammates and sit up, my jersey covered in grass stains.
Coach Johnson extends his hand to me and I take it, letting him pull me to my feet.
He’s grinning ear to ear, and I can’t help but smile back at him.
That’s when I notice something odd about our uniforms.
We’re not wearing our football pads, and our helmets are missing.
My hand goes to my head and I realize that I’m wearing a baseball cap.
I look down at my clothes and see a light, breathable jersey that says "LSUS Baseball" across the chest.
I look out at the field we’re standing on, and instead of the 50-yard line, there’s a pitcher’s mound.
And instead of goalposts, there are bases marking the corners of a diamond.
Disoriented, I look around, trying to make sense of how we got here.
My teammates are still piling on top of each other, and now their white LSUS baseball uniforms are covered in red clay instead of grass stains.
Coach Johnson is standing next to us, wearing a baseball cap and holding a lineup card.
The victory pile grows as more and more guys jump on top of it, but something catches my eye.
There are way too many arms and legs sticking out from the mass of bodies.
I count quickly: twenty-three arms, eighteen legs that I can see, but we only have fifteen players on our roster.
