he had never even come close to beating Miles – not even just once. So what was the problem of waiting? He would study the board more and plot possibly a strategy – maybe even change a few pieces’ positions. That would do no good; Miles simply would return and reset the board accordingly to what it was before he departed. The incarceration could be funny like that – made you do silly little things or maybe it was just Jason.

 

 More of this chapter.

… Miles entered the yard… still standing 6’3”, ten pounds heavier – now 247 pounds – still all muscle and power. With less than three percent body fat Miles was still the NFL prototype wide receiver. He had speed like Deion Sanders, hands like Cris Carter,savvyreach and hops like Randy Moss and power like Terrell Owens. Yet he was still better – Miles had something that each of those greats didn’t – they didn’t have a Super Bowl ring - except for Sanders. But Miles also had what no one could define; all the professional scouts, coaches, and players just called it the… it. Since arriving to Rogets, Miles hadn’t missed a single day of working out – running, lifting, and anything in between that kept his body in tip-top shape. Regardless of his memory loss, football was still in his blood. At thirty-two years of age Miles would have been in the prime of his NFL career barring the memory loss injury.

 

Miles walked up to Brown and the game was explained to him – it would consist of several ex-college and former professional players, a splash or two of high school standouts and the rest would be of the I wish I could have played at any level caliber of player. Brown and Miles were by far the premiere players for this event. The rules were different from the normal game rules of football – each team would get four downs to get a touchdown. The field was sixty yards in length and that of forty yards in width. Each touchdown would count as one point – first team to ten wins. Winning team had to win by two, there were no refs, all calls were decided on the field – it was to be semi-contact – something like flag football but many knew this small rule would probably be over looked once the game began. There was going to be some pain dealt out. Brown had his normal squad – they won every time they played, in fact Brown had not lost a single game since arriving on the unit. The squads were pretty much balanced except for the addition of Brown to his squad. Brown would always tilt the scale in favor of his team. But today that would change, Miles was now playing and to many it just seem that the scale was now slightly tilted towards Will’s, I mean Miles’ new team. Will might have been their leader before but when Miles entered his hand into this arena - make no doubts about it, Miles was now the real leader. His teammates would up their game just to play on the same team and field as Miles. Miles stepped to Will and in not so kindly of words told Will, “Don’t fuck this up too.” Then walked over to Ryan Page the unit bookie and told him to hold his ring – “I’ll be back for it.” Man what the fuck is you doing? Fuck Will - get that ring back. Miles you hear me?... damn Miles we are out of here in a few days. Why are you fucking it up now?