Champions Play as One

The morning sun laid a blanket of gold on Jeremy's mountain ranch, illuminating rough-hewn wood and weathered faces. The air was rich with the scent of eggs and bacon, mixed with the earthy aroma of cattle and hay. The breakfast table was an island of chatter and laughter amongst the ranch hands, their work-worn hands and sun-beaten faces concealing the dawn's fatigue.

Jeremy, the owner, was leaning against the ranch's fence, his eyes surveying his land, his heart filled with an incalculable sense of belonging. As the breakfast cacophony ebbed, his satellite phone shattered the silence with its shrill ring. A look of surprise crossed his face as he glanced at the screen.

Excusing himself from Lloyd and the other men, who were prepping for the day's branding, he ambled away, the phone pressed against his ear. On the other end was his accountant, a voice as crisp as a freshly ironed shirt. The news he brought was a surprise - the funds from the sale of Phoenix Scorpions, the National B