The GOAT Returns:Reincarnated to dominated Football again

Pain.

It shot through Tom's ribs like a hot knife, every breath sending a sharp ache through his body.

The world around him was spinning. The stadium lights felt too bright, the roaring crowd sounded distant.

He lay on the turf, his mind racing.

That hit wasn't just a normal tackle.

It was intentional.

A cheap shot.

Tom clenched his fists. He knew exactly what this was.

Keller.

Even if he hadn't seen him do it, Tom could feel it.

The jealousy. The desperation.

And now?

The dirty play.

He sucked in a slow breath, trying to push past the pain.

The ref was still blowing his whistle, signaling a personal foul on Oakridge.

Jefferson's sideline was livid.

His teammates surrounded him, concerned looks on their faces.

"You good, QB?" Speedy asked, kneeling beside him.

Tom gritted his teeth.

He wasn't leaving this game.

Not now.

Not ever.

Slowly, he pushed himself up. His ribs ached, but nothing felt broken.

He could still throw.

Still win.

"I'm fine," Tom said, standing up.

The Jefferson sideline erupted in cheers.

Because everyone watching knew one thing—

That hit?

It was supposed to take him out.

And yet, here he was.

Still standing.

Coach Donahue's Warning

As Tom walked to the sideline, Coach Donahue grabbed his shoulder.

"Listen up, Bradfield," he growled. "You just got wrecked out there. You sure you can keep going?"

Tom locked eyes with him.

"Coach," he said, dead serious.

"I'm winning this game."

For a second, Donahue just stared at him.

Then, a grin crept onto his face.

"Atta boy," he muttered. "Now go bury these bastards."

Tom pulled his helmet back on and jogged onto the field.

He had one goal now.

Finish the game.

Finish the fight.

The Final Drive – Winning Time

Jefferson had the ball at midfield.

The score was still 14-7, and time was running out.

Oakridge's defense was rattled.

They had tried to knock him out of the game—and failed.

Now?

They were about to pay for it.

Tom scanned the field, activating Field General.

He could see it instantly.

Oakridge was scared.

They weren't playing aggressive anymore.

They were hesitating.

He smirked.

Time to take advantage.

"Set… HUT!"

Snap.

Tom dropped back, eyes scanning the field.

The safeties were playing deep again, trying to prevent a big play.

Fine.

He fired a quick strike to his tight end.

10 yards. First down.

Next play—another quick pass. 8 yards.

Oakridge's defense was backpedaling.

They were breaking.

Tom could feel it.

"Let's go, hurry up!" he called, keeping the tempo fast.

They weren't giving the defense time to adjust.

Another snap.

Another pass.

12 yards.

Now, they were inside the 30-yard line.

Jefferson's crowd was on its feet.

The momentum was all on their side.

And Tom?

He was in complete control.

The Dagger – The Final Touchdown

Two minutes left.

Ball at the 20-yard line.

One last play to end the game.

Tom jogged up to the line and called an audible.

The defense was exhausted.

They weren't thinking straight.

They were waiting for a pass.

So Tom did the opposite.

He called a QB draw.

The ball snapped.

Tom tucked it and took off.

Straight up the middle.

The linebackers hesitated.

They weren't expecting him to run.

But by the time they reacted—

It was too late.

Tom lowered his shoulder, pushing through the last defender—

AND DIVED INTO THE END ZONE.

TOUCHDOWN.

21-7, GAME OVER.

The Aftermath – The Legend Begins

The stadium erupted.

Jefferson's players rushed onto the field.

Tom barely had time to breathe before his teammates lifted him into the air.

The nobody, the benchwarmer, the guy who was supposed to fail?

He had just led his team to victory.

And everyone watching knew it.

This was just the beginning.

Tom Brady had returned.

Keller's Final Move

As the team celebrated, Keller stood on the sidelines, watching.

His jaw was clenched.

His hands were shaking.

He had done everything to keep Tom from taking his spot.

And yet, he had still lost.

That's when his eyes narrowed.

There was still one thing he could do.

He pulled out his phone and sent a quick message.

Keller: We have a problem. Meet me after the game.

A reply came instantly.

Unknown: Understood. We'll take care of it.

Keller smirked.

If he couldn't beat Tom on the field…

Then maybe it was time to take him down another way.

End of Chapter 8…