Caden Ortiz stood at the entrance of the Arizona State Dodgers’ training facility, the early morning sun casting long shadows across the parking lot. His heart raced in his chest, a mixture of excitement and nerves surging through him. He had dreamed of this moment for as long as he could remember—standing here, about to sign up for the elite football team that had always seemed out of reach. The Arizona State Dodgers were one of the top programs in the country, known for producing some of the best players in the league. Today was the day he would prove he belonged among them.
He glanced around at the other hopefuls, each one sizing up the competition. There were players stretching, tossing around footballs, and warming up, all with the same goal in mind. Caden’s eyes narrowed with determination. This was his chance. He had spent the last few years perfecting his skills—hours spent in the gym, late nights on the field, pushing himself when no one else was watching. Today, it was all about proving it to the coaches who would be watching closely.
With a deep breath, Caden walked through the doors, immediately hit with the buzz of energy that filled the space. The sound of players talking, coaches barking instructions, and the echo of cleats hitting the floor created an electric atmosphere. He made his way to the registration table, where a tall assistant with a clipboard stood, looking over the incoming players.
"Name?" the assistant asked without looking up.
"Caden Ortiz," he replied, his voice steady but his heart pounding in his ears.
The assistant glanced up, briefly studying him before writing something down. "You here for the Elite tryouts?"
"Yes, sir," Caden said, a touch of pride in his voice. He had earned his spot here, and he wasn’t going to let anyone doubt it.
"Alright," the assistant said, marking a few things off on his clipboard before handing Caden a numbered jersey. "Get changed and head out to the field. Tryouts start in twenty."
Caden nodded, taking the jersey and heading toward the locker room to change. The air was thick with anticipation, players hustling to get ready, their movements focused. After quickly slipping on his gear, he pulled on his jersey, the number 23 emblazoned across the back. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. It felt real now.
When Caden stepped onto the field, he could already hear the sounds of the coaches organizing the drills. The field was pristine, with the bright green turf stretching out before him, and the stands empty but looming in the distance, as if awaiting the crowd that would someday cheer for the next big star. But today, it was just him and the others vying for their place on the team.
The coaches called everyone together. A few were familiar faces, some players he’d seen on the highlight reels, while others were unknowns, just as hungry for this opportunity as he was.
"Alright, gentlemen," a deep voice rang out. "This is it. We’re not here for a warm-up. We’re here to see who’s got the skills to be a part of the Dodgers. Don’t hold back. Show us what you’ve got."
The drills began—agility tests, speed sprints, passing accuracy, and scrimmages. Caden moved with a sharpness he hadn’t felt before, pushing himself to his limits in every drill. Each time he sprinted, every cut he made, he was thinking about the spot on the team, about the coaches watching every move, judging whether he had what it took to play for the Dodgers. His muscles burned with effort, but he pushed through it, blocking out the fatigue and focusing only on what was in front of him.
During the scrimmage, he was in his element. Running routes, making catches, evading tackles—he felt like he was in perfect rhythm. The ball came his way on the last play, a tight spiral just over the defenders' heads. He reached for it, leaping into the air and catching it with one hand, securing the ball with an effortless ease that left a few of the other players in awe.
Caden’s confidence soared. He wasn’t just participating anymore—he was showing them that he belonged. That he was good enough to wear that Dodger jersey.
After the scrimmage ended, the coaches gathered the group for the final evaluations. Caden’s chest heaved as he caught his breath, his body buzzing with adrenaline. He tried to keep his expression neutral, but inside, he was replaying every moment of the tryout, wondering if it had been enough.
The head coach, a grizzled veteran with a reputation for being tough but fair, walked down the line of players. Caden stood tall, trying to steady his nerves, knowing he’d given everything he had.
When the coach reached him, he stopped. He didn’t say anything for a moment, just stared at Caden, as if weighing him against every other player who had been through these tryouts before.
Finally, the coach spoke, his voice low but firm. "Caden Ortiz. You’ve got the skills. You’ve got the drive. Welcome to the Arizona State Dodgers."
Caden felt his heart skip a beat. His mind raced as the words settled in. He had made it. He had done it. His hard work, his sacrifices—everything had led to this moment.
"Report back tomorrow," the coach continued, nodding toward the field. "We start drills at 6 AM sharp. Be ready."
Caden could hardly contain his grin as the weight of the moment hit him. He had made the elite team. The Arizona State Dodgers. He had earned his place.
As he walked off the field, a rush of pride flooded him. This was just the beginning. The real work was about to start. But for now, he allowed himself a moment to savor the victory.
Nighttime Thunderstorms with Hail
