your life. your choices. your story.

Russ King. 24. Angel Grove, CA. Football Coach. Student. Brother. Son. Power Ranger. Originally from Cranberry, PA. Let's go Bulls! Spend a little more time trying to make something of yourself and a little less trying to impress people.

[crimsonhearted]

jaymillers:

Now that he no longer felt like someone was trying to pull the ground from under his feet, Jay could take in the ridiculousness of the situation and join Russell in his laughter. He actually managed to fall asleep on his feet, what the actual hell?! And then, to top it all off, given the dead hour when it happened, he had the terrible luck of having someone literally run into him. Talk about a giant coincidence. “Yeah, yeah,” he waved his hand, the last breaths of his laughter dissolving into the air, “I figured I’d try something else, see if it works. Word to the wise, don’t ever try this yourself.” As he shook his head he could feel the tiredness pull down his eyelids. and he fought to keep them, rubbing his eyes sleepily. Russ’s question shook him out of the daze, however, making him a little more alert than he had been moments before. What was he really doing there? Was he out to see the sunrise, like some dumb idiot or was there more to it? He didn’t feel like explaining his weird nightmares or the fact that he felt calmer in some parts of the town as opposed to the others, like this particular spot. “This is gonna sound cheesy, but I’m enjoying the view,” he offered a half-assed excuse, looking at Russ whose run was just interrupted. “What about you, isn’t it a little early for a morning jog?”

Head cocked slightly, Russ gave his friend a long look. He wasn’t entirely convinced by Jay’s explanation. Why was he so tired that he’d doze on his feet? He wanted to ask, but bit his tongue. If he kept pushing, Jay was sure to push back. It wasn’t like Russ had a good reason to be out here before the sun was fully risen, either. With a lift of his shoulders, Russ stifled a yawn. “It’s cooler this early.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth, either. The nightmares had kept him up for days, weeks, months by now, but that wasn’t the kind of thing that seemed like good pre-coffee talk. In fact, it wasn’t something Russ felt like sharing with anyone. It was probably just all snowballing from his injury and lack of any real life direction, anyway. What was he if not a football player? Russ didn’t know. He wasn’t a teacher (not yet). He was a coach, but that wasn’t fulfilling him entirely. But being here, in Angel Grove, felt...right for some reason. Something was out there. He just had to figure out what. “Plus, if I don’t do it first thing I’m jumpy all day.” Another truth, another lie of omission. This was becoming the norm.

[crimsonhearted]

auroraevelynwest:

“I was only ever in Drama Club for the credits on my transcript,” Aurora shot back playfully, eyes glinting with a hint of mischief. In the time that Russ had been in town, Aurora had been lucky enough to find a friend in the man, one of the first she’d had in a long time. It wasn’t that Aurora wasn’t a social person, but her motivation to carry herself the way she had when she was younger (youthfully and vibrantly, without a care in the world) just wasn’t there anymore. Few people were able to tease out of her the person she’d once been, and Russ was usually one of them. 

“Augh! Bones, breaking…Strength…Fading.” She mumbled wistfully as he squeezed her arm, raising the back of the hand that wasn’t cradled in his to her forehead in a display of dramatics she thought was deserving of the quip he’d raised about her over exaggeration. “Not made of porcelain, no, but I also couldn’t take down a three hundred pound slab of beef on a football field.” 

Aurora shook her head, refusing the little bottle of liquor while nervously eyeing the one in his hand. When he finally brought the damp rag to her skin, she involuntarily flinched, a soft hiss whistling through her teeth. “You weren’t lying,” she mumbled, hoping that talking through the pain would lessen the sting when he got to the other hand. “I’ve never had a reason to drink at all.” A lie, of course, if anyone were to consider the onslaught of troubles she had to endure on the daily. She’d seen too many people fall prey to addictions of every sort, however, and as tempting as it was to pick up the bottle at times, Aurora found other outlets to funnel her frustrations into. She ran. She worked. She trained. Silently, she’d suffer. Without the aide of stimulants or depressants. “That sounds painful, but I know you took care of it. You’re so good with those boys. If only I had half the sway with kids their age…Sometimes I swear Max likes you much more than he likes me.” 

Brows furrowed and forehead wrinkled in concentration, Russ glanced up from where he was working on the cuts along her palm. “Is the ground your Kryptonite?” He wondered aloud, trading the hand he was holding for the opposite one and repeating the process of cleaning and then disinfecting the scrapes. “The trick is not to get caught by anyone more than two-hundred pounds.” As a running back, Russ had speed and strength. He could evade tackles like the best of them...and outrun most opposing players. It was easier and more effective than out-muscling them. 

When Aurora declined the second bottle, Russ replaced both into his bag, trading the alcohol for a roll of gauze instead. “He just likes that I know the difference between a touchdown and a touchback.” With a shrug, he set to wrapping both hands with the gauze. “I don’t trust you to stay on your feet on the way home, either. just clean the cuts out and cover them if you’re doing anything strenuous.” He tipped his head slightly and gave her a once-over. “Anything else?”

[crimsonhearted]

kmrangerrover:

Kenna was only vaguely aware of the fact that Russ had dropped the topic of dance, but it didn’t bother her much. She had a track record of going on wild tangents that people got tired of, so it was nice to have a conversation while it lasted. Smiling at him, she shook his hand. “What do you do instead of promoting sports gear? Lemme guess…” She screwed up her face in concentration, trying to envision the man’s profession. He was obviously athletic and was disciplined enough to go running in the morning… “Personal trainer?”

“Thanks for the warm welcome, Russ. I’m Kenna.” She beamed, pleased to have met another Angel Grove-inite… Grovian? Grover? Whatever, a local.

His lips twitched slightly. Truthfully, he’d considered pursuing a career in sports medicine or exercise science, but the path had always been decided for him. Play college football, get a degree to appease his mother, and then enter the NFL draft. So far, none of those things had come true just yet. “Close. Football coach,” he replied with a lift of his shoulder. Tucking his phone back into the pocket of his sweatshirt, he shrugged. “No problem.” Grinning faintly, he tipped his chin towards the path. “Want to finish my run with me?” 

[crimsonhearted]

kmrangerrover:

“Not really. Not if you know the basics and you just don’t care what anyone thinks. Even if you don’t know the basics, you can still have fun.” She said honestly. The man seemed like a pretty typical kind of guy– someone who didn’t understand Kenna entirely. But, at least he wasn’t a jerk or anything. She was used to people calling her crazy for how she lived her life. “Uh huh?” Kenna quirked an eyebrow at that comment.

“Are you a Nike spokesman?” She said with a laugh, pointing at his shirt. “Well, I mean, seems like just about everyone here has been able to spot me as the weird new person.” Which was true, on both counts. But even back in Cedar Hills it had never been this readily apparent who was new in town. Or maybe she was just never interested enough to care.

She couldn’t have known that Russ King thrived on what other people thought. Ever since he was a kid, he’d fed off of the reaction he got from other people when he played. First, it was just his parents. Then, it was groups of his team’s families at peewee games. By the time he was a teenager, Russ was the stereotypical, popular jock who carried a team on his back and lived for the roar of a sold out crowd on a Friday night. Blinking at the stranger, Russ found himself sticking his hand out for a proper greeting. “No, but I should be. It’d probably pay better than my actual job.” He paused, lifting a shoulder in a shrug. “I’m Russ, by the way. Welcome to Angel Grove.” 

[crimsonhearted]

jaymillers:

There was one good thing about those weird ass dreams he has been having: Jay found the best place to watch the sunrise. He had passed by it a million times before these nightmares started, paying no attention to it because he’d usually be too late to see the birth of another day, the way rays of sun would light up the town, turning the sky a paler shade of blue until you could no longer look directly into it. 

After another sleepless night when he’d leave the bed more tired than he was when his head hit the pillow, Jay decided to make it out to that spot, let the serenity of the sleeping town and the beginning of a new day soothe his racing mind. He was walking towards the spot, when he stopped for a minute to breathe it all in, closing his eyes and seizing the moment of tranquility before he’d have to go about his usual day. 

And, he kinda dozed off, standing there in the middle of the path, just taking a power nap. The exhaustion was just too hard on him lately and he could feel it overwhelming him, needing just a day or two to come to his senses. Instead of that, however, he got something else: a loud thud as someone all but trampled him over. The bump knocked him off his balance and he had to fight for a few good moments to regain it, his feet unsteady and his legs shaky, the sleepy haze still over his eyes. “Now that’s a wake up call,” Jay managed to say once the ground finally settled beneath him. “It’s what I get for falling asleep on my feet.”

Russ’s heartbeat was thudding away between his ears, the adrenaline still pumping, but the worry response died down when he realized just who he’d run over. Now that he knew he hadn’t stomped someone to death, and now that he knew it was Jay, Russ barked out a laugh. “You know,” he said, rolling the sleeves of his sweatshirt up to the elbows and taking out the other earbud. His pulse was louder, still, but Russ tried his best to ignore it. He’d stopped running; if anything, his heart rate should be getting back to normal, but something about this place, being out here...It put him on edge. No matter how often he tried to change his route, he wound up back here, and the strange tug was always there, especially now that he’d turned his back on the hills and was on his way back to town. He pushed the thought away and continued. “Most people sleep in a bed.” He reached out to swat Jay playfully on the shoulder. He had all intentions of offering a wave and continuing on his way, but then curiosity caught him and he turned back to his friend. “...what are you doing out here so early?”

[crimsonhearted]

orchidranger:

It was to early for shit like this.

Alexis had been walking the trail to get familiar with the area around her parent’s ,well now her, mansion. Alexis had been distracted though, going through the mental checklist of things she would need for her dance studio. The opening date was getting closer and closer, and she wanted opening day to be perfect. She never did anything half ass.

She had gotten up early enough to where she didn’t think anyone else would be out. So Imagine her surprise when she was practically trampled by what felt like a brick wall with legs. “Am I okay? I just got ran over by a bus,” Alexis complained lightly as she stood up and wiped the dirt from the back of her pants. “Run much?” Alexis couldn’t help but to taunt the other.

“There’s a bus out here?” Russ asked, feigning surprise and throwing a look over his shoulder before glancing back to Alexis. “Must have been a fast bus. Did you get the plates?” He blinked innocently, expression neutral other than the slight upturn of one side of his mouth. He shifted his weight back on his left foot and linked his fingers behind his head, chest still heaving as his breathing settled back to normal. The smirk crept easily upon his face and he shook his head, breaking into a jog-in-place before answering. “Nah, first time,” he said, shaking his arms out to get the blood flowing more freely. “How’m I doing?”

[crimsonhearted]

auroraevelynwest:

“I’m glad this is funny for you,” Aurora quipped, offering a good-natured smile to counter the amused look on his face. Accepting the assistance he offered, she winced as she stood, thankful she’d chosen to wear yoga pants for her run that day rather than shorts. She had enough bruises running the length of her legs, she didn’t need any more injuries to arouse suspicion. Not that she had very many people that worried about her in the first place, but she doubted her little brother would believe she’d tripped down the stairs in the rear of the cafe more than once. At least this time she could honestly tell him she’d went one on one with professional running back. 

Slowly, she gathered herself as she stood and took a moment to remind herself what being on her feet felt like before she crossed the little dirt path to join him. “Very chivalrous of you, Russ. I suppose it’s common courtesy, though, considering you nearly killed me.” Which was ridiculous, she thought, trying to convince herself she’d merely been caught off guard. Which she had, but she’d kind of expected the Power Rangers super strength that Zordon and Alpha were always boasting about to kick in when she was about to get thrown half way across the damn mountain. Maybe that wasn’t how it worked. “You’ve got to cut down on the protein shakes. I’m petite,” She snorted, holding her hands out for him. “Next time I’ll probably just break in half.” 

Setting the kit beside him, Russ began picking through the array of bandages, wraps, and pills to find what he was looking for. “It’s six a.m.” He glanced down at his watch to confirm his estimation and stole a look up at Aurora from his perch. “Everything’s hilarious before dawn.” Some people were cranky in the morning, but Russ loved it. The quiet used to be his favorite part until the bizarre voices in his head started up, urging him to change his route from weaving through downtown and to the mountains surrounding the edge of town. But he still felt best in the mornings. It was the start of a brand new day and another chance to achieve his goals. The nights were worse. He could ignore the echoing voice; the dreams were hard to outrun. 

It must have been the busted knee. 

Leveling her with a long stare, Russ raised  single eyebrow and scoffed under his breath. “You ever think about going into acting? You’re so dramatic.” His eyes arced towards the purple-pink sky. He took her smaller hand in his right, squinting at the crisscross of cuts and scrapes along her palms and wincing sympathetically. “You’re not made of porcelain. I don’t think.” He found a spot on her arm that wasn’t covered in cuts and gave it an experimental squeeze. When she didn’t snap in half, Russ quirked his brows at Aurora again and then set to work.

With gentle fingers and practiced ease, Russ cleaned her hands with water and then dried them with a clean cloth from the first aid kit. “This is gonna hurt like a bitch,” he warned, holding up a tiny, airline sized bottle of alcohol. “But I have a spare if you’re into that sort of thing.” He produced a second, identical bottle while he snapped the cap off and doused the cloth in it, pressed it firmly to the scrapes, and offered her the spare. “My dad got it last time he visited and we never had a reason to drink it. And I used all the rubbing alcohol when two of my kids got into a fight with a chain link fence. They lost.” 

[crimsonhearted]

kmrangerrover:

“Really? But it’s so much fun! You can just let go and do whatever you want,” She said, doing a little spin to demonstrate. Kenna knew that it was a bit odd to just dance and do whatever, but that was a big part of why she lived the way she did. No one judged and no one cared. “It’s just something nice to wake you up. A lot nicer than running, if you ask me. Running gets boring.”

Blinking, she shrugged. “I mean, I’m new in town. I’m guessing this place doesn’t get too many visitors, huh?” 

A little chuckle of amusement fell from Russ’ lips as the woman spun on the spot. She wa a free spirit. That much he could tell. He was pretty sure she might float up on the breeze that had just whipped through the trees if she wasn’t careful. Russ, meanwhile, was firmly anchored to the ground. “You have to think about dancing,” Russ said, beginning to run in place to keep his blood from cooling down too much. He still had to get back to town, and a cooled down body would do him no good. “You don’t have to think when you run. You just do it.” He was unaware that he’d just uttered the tagline for the brand of clothing he was wearing, the signature swoosh splashed across his chest. Russ cracked a smile. “How’d you guess?”

[crimsonhearted]

kmrangerrover:

Kenna gratefully accepted the gesture and nodded in thanks. “I mean, I could do that. But its way more fun to dance out here than other places. And easier. Have you ever tried dancing in the woods? Not easy, I’ll tell you that.” She said and shrugged at his question. “Dancing.” Kenna replied. People didn’t take too kindly to her bumming it in her van, cos she was technically “homeless.”  Which was lame, cos her van was her home.

Pursing his lips, Russ tossed a look over his shoulder and then drew his attention back to Makenna. “I don’t dance.” He was never good with rhythm, unless it was some kind of a football play. He could weave and sidestep with the best of them out on the field, but put him on a dance floor and he had two left feet. “How come I’ve never seen you around before?” He asked once the silence settled too thick and too long. He’d been in Angel Grove long enough to recognize almost everyone, so it was a little bit unsettling not to recognize someone.

[crimsonhearted]

auroraevelynwest:

With the amount of times she’d collided with someone during her early morning runs over the past couple of weeks, Aurora was about ready to find a new time to get her exercise in–if not a new place to run. She figured running in the mountains was safer than anywhere. She didn’t like being in town more than she had to…Work, groceries, the occasional movie with Max. The rest of her time was either spent at home or in the Nexus. If she didn’t want to venture through the woods and up the mountains, she’d run on her street–up and down Coastal Road almost as if she was pacing. Humorously, as she hit the ground, she remembered a comment one of her neighbors had made a month back about how her pacing made them uneasy. It was funny, because that’s what had spurred her to start into the mountains–that and the wild dreams she’d been having before she finally found the Nexus. 

“Owf” She hissed, waiting to catch her breath before inspecting her body for the injuries she was sure she’d obtained in her fall. Sure enough, when she turned her hands palm up, a line of scratches and scrapes colored her skin, the work of the tiny rocks and dirt under her. After eyeing the newest additions to her seemingly never ending collection with irritation, she finally turned her gaze up to find who she’d run into this time. 

“I’m f–Oh. Russ. Hey. That was totally my bad, I should’ve been watching where I was going.” 

So maybe all of the working out wasn’t for naught after all. It seemed like she’d just bounced right off of him, and though it wasn’t really funny, Russ found himself biting back a laugh anyway. He offered her a hand up and winced at the fresh cuts. “Maybe they should put some stop signs in,” he joked, adjusting the bag he carried and swinging it from his shoulders and down an arm. “I can probably fix that,” he said, tipping his chin towards the cuts while she unzipped his backpack and rummaged around the books and car keys for the first aid kit he kept inside for just such an occasion. Normally, he was bandaging up his own scraped knees or applying copious amounts of bug spray, but he’d had to tape up enough kids’ ankles over the season last year that carrying some basic supplies just made sense. “Come on. Let’s clean that up a little bit.” He sank down onto a mostly flat rock and plopped the bag in front of him between his feet before looking expectantly back at Aurora.

[kappakappadani-deactivated20170]

Alex tried her hardest not to hug the punching bag that dangled before her and just fall asleep holding it. Over the course of a week she’d been pulled into countless jobs that seemed to end in disaster. She’d almost been arrested twice and if it wasn’t for the stupidity of some of her colleagues who decided it was better to run then find a nice hiding spot, but that meant she had lost countless hours of sleep. 

[crimsonhearted]

It was an odd day. That meant that he didn’t get to run. Or at least that’s what his trainer told him. Russ had a (short) jog that morning, and he could feel the ache in his right knee as he squatted with the barbell across his shoulders. He was back to being able to lift a person, especially while at the bench, but while on his feet, the dull throb of his injured leg pulsed up and into his shoulders. Three more reps. Two. One. He’d earned a break. Russ replaced the equipment in its proper place and ran a towel over the back of his neck on his way to the fountain. A smirk crept upon his face as he noticed the woman practically slumping at the punching bags. Pulling to a stop, he quirked a brow. “It usually works better when you’re conscious,” he pointed out with a meaningful nod. The grin probably gave him away.

[crimsonhearted]

kmrangerrover:

Kenna stretched out to the sky and yawned as she shook her arms and legs out. It was a beautiful morning and she’d found a nice place at the hills to sleep for the night, which was great. Wiggling her hips a little, she popped her headphones in and began dancing along to the hiphop music that flooded her ears. She wasn’t very good at dancing hiphop, but it wasn’t as though people were out here to judge her for her skills.

She let the music flow through her as she moved to the rhythm, working up a light sweat as she twirled and spun, throwing in some ballet moves when it worked. Just as the song ended and she got her feet square underneath her, Kenna was sidelined by a runner.

With a yelp, she landed on her face and spat the bits of grass that she had somehow managed to swallow. “Yep, I’m fine! Just need to not ever dance. In Angel Grove. Ever, apparently. Are you sure this isn’t the Footloose town, cos every time I dance, I swear, I get knocked down for it.” Kenna said as she stood up.

Russ couldn’t help but chuckle at the response he received, though he did thrust an arm out to help her up from the unforgiving ground. “Maybe you just shouldn’t dance in the path,” he said with a lift of his shoulders, reaching out to pause his music, which had already drifted into the next, fast-paced workout song on his playlist. His legs itched to get moving again, but he forced himself to stay put, fingers tapping idly at his thigh. He gave Makenna a sidelong glance. “What are you doing out here, anyway?” He wondered, only half expecting an answer. It was rare that the sleepy town awoke this early, and when they did, it was usually just other runners. It wasn’t often he found dancers in his path.

[crimsonhearted]

Challenge 1

basics

name: russel james king.

nicknames: russ to most. friends call him rj.

gender: male.

age: twenty-four.

date of birth: 8/6/1992.

hometown: cranberry, pennsylvania.

current location: angel grove, california.

sexual orientation: heterosexual (although realistically he’s probably demiromantic and sexuality is fluid and he hates labels so. subject to change depending on people, places, and times.)

religion: raised catholic. he doesn’t practice.

political affiliation: democrat.

living arrangements: his very own crappy one-bedroom apartment in angel grove.

language(s) spoken: english. little bith of dothraki, if that counts. probably a touch of trigedasleng.

physical appearance

height: 5′11 1/2″.

weight: 152 pounds of pure unadulterated man.

build: russ has always been athletic. since his injury, he’s been working more on his core strength and his arms. now that he’s starting to rehab his knee, though, he’s trying to get that all-around, balanced build back.

eye color: brown.

hair color: black. 

distinguishing marks: he’s got a pretty nice scar on his right knee from the surgery he had. he’s also got a pretty embarassing tattoo of his high school mascot on his left bicep that he’s probably going to get removed at some point.

family/relationships

mother’s name: teresa king.

father’s name: russell king.

sibling’s names: kayla (29), maggie (26), alicia (19), tyler (15).

relationship status: single. he hasn’t had a serious relationship since college.

significant other: he’s pretty close with his personal trainer, justin, but i don’t think that counts.

children: none. 

pets: russ would kill a goldfish, so none.

school/work

highest education: some college. 

university: ucla for three years. currently attending AGCC.

current occupation: stuent. high school football coach.

personality

fears: failure. disappointing his family. snakes. needles. death.

hobbies: working out. watching sports. playing sports. watching way too much reality tv. movies. music. video games.

pet peeves: when people snap their gum. when people quit on their goals. when he loses a single sock in the washer.

label:the athlete.

positive traits: practical. rational. driven. perceptive. persuasive. sociable.

negative traits: impatient. risk-taker. defiant. stubborn. sometimes insensitive. 

goals/desires: to play football again. to graduate college. to make his family proud.

habits: russ is always moving. sitting still doesn’t work for him. he tends to bounce his leg during lectures, much to his classmates’ dismay. he has to fall asleep with music playing. he’s driven by routine. without one, he tends to go off the rails and nothing really gets done.

favorites

weather: fall. crisp air, crunchy leaves, and sun. 

color: blue. it was his high school’s color.

music: anything. everything. whatever makes him feel something.

movies: mostly comedies, though he won’t say no to a good action film.

sport: football. duh.

beverage: water. 

food: chicken. any kind of chicken. fried, baked, grilled...anything.

animal: lion. king of the jungle, yeah?

misc.

zodiac sign: leo.

mbti: estp. the entrepreneur. 

enneagram: 3. The Achiever.

temperament:choleric.

hogwarts house: slytherin. the guy’s ambitious as hell.

primary vice: pride. 

primary virtue: diligence.

[crimsonhearted]

It was early.

It was always early when Russ took his daily jog because it was the routine. The routine helped keep him motivated, according to his physical therapist. According to Russ, it kept him sane. His days were planned: wake up, jog as far as his battered knee would take him, shower, class, work. Lather, rinse, repeat. It was monotonous, certainly, but he had a goal, now. He was going to get back on the football field one way or another. That had to be why he felt so off. What other reason could there be for the fluttering in his chest or the twist in his gut? What else could make his skin crawl or cause those dreams? It had to be the ache of missing the one place he’d felt at home. 

(What else could it be?) 

Little by little, Russ had eased himself closer. He’d started working out again. He’d found himself on the sidelines once more, coaching Angel Grove High to a winning season for the first time in forever. But he longed to trade that track jacket for a jersey. Jealousy and pride dragged his heart down at he watched kids younger and less skilled than he was succeed. And so, he had a routine. 

Jogging was the perfect answer. It let his mind float off onto those dying beams of light from the moon. He’d just hit that runner’s high, his muscles pumping and the blood flowing, and it let him drift away from Angel Grove for a moment or two, bask in the warmth of the day, and just exist. No worries. No ache. Just his feet against the ground as he wound his way around the hills on the outskirts of town. The high must have distracted him, for he ran square into something -or rather someone- solid. “Shit,” Russ muttered, yanking an earbud out of his ear and tipping his head to the side after staggering back a step or two. “My bad. You okay?”

[fnl-forever-blog]

[crysadunicorn]

Visit Original Link

The Script - Hall of Fame (feat. will.i.am) “You can go the distance You can run the mile, you can walk straight throught hell with a smile”

[becomingrangersrp-blog]

Name: Russell James King

Date of Birth: August 6, 1992 .

Color: Crimson

FC: Michael B. Jordan

‘’Spend a little more time trying to make something of yourself and a little less trying to impress people. ‘’

The name “Russell King” was well known before he was ever born. In the  town of Cranberry, PA, their surname was associated with football greatness, and as the first son of Russell and Teresa King, he was born to follow in his father’s footsteps and lead his team to a state championship. When he was five, he helped his mite team to a league championship and when he was eight, he was playing with twelve year olds, showing off the speed and skill of someone who was a natural at the position of running back. And, best of all, Russ felt like he belonged on the football field. When you’re smack in the middle of five siblings, you have to do something to stand out, and football was Russ’ way of doing so. By the time he was in high school, scouts were coming out to his games to see the dynamic running back in action. His senior year, Russ finally led the Raiders to their first State title in fifteen years. His name was murmured across national media as he climbed up the NFL draft rankings, but if there was one thing his mother taught him, it was that you always needed a backup plan. Many schools expressed interest in Russ’ talents, but UCLA was the only one to offer him a full ride, so it was off to California for him.

California was far different than the smaller town Russ had grown up in. He thrived in his first year at UCLA (though he hadn’t chosen a major yet) and saw action behind a senior running back almost immediately. He broke freshman records and his future looked bright. His sophomore year changed everything. It was the final regular season matchup against rival USC. They were down by six in the waning seconds of the fourth quarter. The quarterback made the call. It was a fake, and Russ would be the one making the throw. He took the handoff, dropped back three steps, and launched a pass to his wide open receiver…and took a hit that made his right knee twist and pop. They won the game by an extra point at the buzzer, but Russ tore his ACL and was forced to stand on the sidelines as his team fell in the playoffs. He underwent surgery in the offseason with the goal to rehab over the summer and be back on the field for training camp in August, but he didn’t heal as his doctors -or his coaches- would have hoped. He watched from the sideline during his junior year and was cut entirely before his Senior year ever started. With only a half-finished Secondary Education degree to his name, Russ dropped out. Gathering his meager belongings in a couple of boxes, he made his way down the coast to the smaller town of Angel Grove. It reminded him of home without his father breathing down his neck an his brothers and sisters looking over his shoulder. But it didn’t feel right. He never found the same peace he had found on the football field, not even when he took an open coaching position at Angel Grove High. He’s finishing up his teaching degree at the local community college and rehabbing his knee in his spare time, with the goal of possibly playing some rec league football in the future. After all, you have to start somewhere, right?

His knee has healed fairly well, though he doesn’t have the mobility he once had. If he’s not coaching the boys to their second winning season in as many years or in class to finish up his schooling, Russ is rehabbing. He works with a physical therapist at the local gym or jogs on his own almost every day. He knows the trails around Angel Grove like the back of his own hand by now, but something keeps drawing him to the hills surrounding the town, and he’s not really sure why. And don’t get him started on the dreams…