“Down, Set ... Hut, HUT!”
I made my first read of Jeff in the corner, but he was covered. I started through my progression and Jake and Wolf were both covered. I heard a crack of pads right behind me and turned to see Bert had actually blocked someone. I saw Bill was going to flash open, so I threw the ball high where only he could go up and get it. The defender saw he was beaten and wrapped Bill up as he jumped. Somehow Bill came down with the ball. After the extra point, we were leading 28–24.
When I finally saw the tape of the play, again, I would see Bert had made a hell of a play. He was helping Jim with the defensive end when the backside cornerback did a delayed blitz. Bert had noticed it, and had turned and sprinted back and blocked him right before he would have sacked me. It had given me enough time to make the throw. Bert had finally redeemed himself.
Mansfield wasn’t done. They had 2:43 left and had shown they could move the ball. Our defense was rising to the occasion and flying all over the field, but Mansfield just seemed to want it more. Their tailback was fighting for every inch, and both Tim and I were laying the wood to him. I’ve never seen a back take so much punishment and still get up. The sounds of the hits were just different from the rest of the game. The crack of the pads as we hit their tailback could be heard over the sound of the frenzied crowd. This was why I played the game. It was moments like this when I was giving it my all and challenging the opposition to give it their best that I lived for. There are few venues where a man can see what he was really made of.
On a fourth-and-one play, I thought we finally had stopped them. I met their tailback in the hole and hit him as hard as I could. I heard him cry out as we went down. The line judge rushed over to place the ball. It was close. Their tailback looked like he’d dislocated his shoulder. His arm just hung as they helped him off the field. Once he was off, they brought the chains out to measure. The tip of the ball touched the down marker, giving them a first down.
With the ball first and ten at our 36 yard line, they only had 54 seconds left on the clock. We went into a prevent defense because they had to pass. They had two time-outs, so we still had to defend the middle. The next play was a flare pass to their new tailback. He was able to pick up six yards, but we kept him in bounds to force them to call time.
Moose pulled us over to talk.
“We aren’t getting enough pressure on them. Tim, I want you to blitz, and David, you have the middle. Now let’s stop them!”
We had a play where Jim would slant down towards the center to try to occupy two linemen, while Wolf would loop around him for a free shot at the quarterback. With Tim in the mix, if Wolf wasn’t free, his job was to get Tim a crease. The play worked like a dream. Both Wolf and Tim were immediately on the quarterback, flushing him from the pocket. Instead of dumping the ball, he decided to scramble. I don’t think he realized how fast Wolf was. Mansfield’s quarterback saw Wolf about to catch him, so he dodged and ran back towards the center of the field. He damn near ran right into Tim and turned again. The whole time he was losing ground.
Instead of throwing the ball out of bounds, he threw it across his body and way down the field. The ball looked like a wounded duck. One of their receivers somehow caught it at the 8 yard line. Mansfield sprinted to the line and, when the ref had it set and the chains moved, they spiked the ball. There were now twelve seconds left on the clock.
On the snap of the next play, Tim blew through the line and sacked their quarterback for a four yard loss. They had to use their last timeout. It was now second-and-goal at the 12 yard line with only three seconds left on the clock. This was the last play of the game. If we held them, we were State Champs. If we didn’t, they were. Our whole season came down to one play.
Moose gave us our final instructions.
“Same formation, but I want David five yards deep in the end zone. David, your job is to keep them from scoring.”
When we trotted back onto the field, there was suddenly a big cheer from their fans. Their senior tailback came running to their huddle. I understood exactly why he was back in there, injured or not. He was a warrior. I had a lot of respect for him at that moment.
On the snap, I wasn’t surprised when they handed off to him. Tim broke through the line and hit him in the backfield, and their big tailback just seemed to shrug him off. He ran through arm tackles by both Jim and Wolf. Our safety went to wrap him up, but he gave the safety a wicked stiff-arm to come free. It was up to me to stop him.
I had been edging forward and was at the goal line, and he was at about the six. We both accelerated into each other. I got low to drive him back as he tried to jump over me. I wrapped up his waist and pulled him down as he stretched for the goal line. The ball landed on the one-foot line.
We had WON!
In my moment of elation, I looked back and saw the heartbreak for Mansfield. Their tailback was on his knees with tears streaming down his face. Their team went over and knelt down with him. They all bowed their heads and prayed. It was one of the most touching things I’d ever seen. When they were done, I got the guys calmed down enough to go shake hands.
After the game, we were presented with our State Championship medals and the trophy. The picture in the Sunday paper was of Coach Hope holding up the trophy with Bill, Tim and I holding up our medals. When we got into the locker room, Springfield was waiting to go out. They congratulated us, and then went out and easily won their game.
I WAS RIDING HIGH ON the bus home. Before we got back, Coach Hope had a few words for us.
“Go out and celebrate tonight. Just try to keep the tequila poppers to a minimum.”
We all groaned at that. I don’t think tequila was on the menu for most of them.
“I should have your State Championship patches ready Monday for your letterman’s jackets. If you don’t have a jacket, they’ll have them on sale at the sporting goods store at the mall,” he said, looking at me.
He must have talked to Range Sports about getting a discount. I’d need to get my letterman’s jacket out and start wearing it. I’d grown a bit since I bought it; I might have to get a new one. I made a mental note to check it when I got home.
I got a text from Tracy, and read it to everyone.
“The cheerleaders are having a party at Carol Wirth’s tonight!”
Carol was one of the varsity cheerleaders I really didn’t like very much. She lived on a farm about a mile out of town. Everyone made plans to meet there around eight.
When I got off the bus, I was happy but nervous. I had a call to make.
WHEN I GOT HOME, MY family all hugged me. Dad told me they’d recorded the game. Uncle John had come back for the game. We talked about football for a while, and then it was time to make my call to Tami. Mom took me into the den.
“I wanted to say I’m sorry for the other day. It’s hard for me because you two have been close for so long. I just consider her part of the family, and she’s like the daughter I never had. I hope that come summer you two work this out,” she said as she dialed.
She heard the phone ringing and handed it to me. She left as Tami answered.
“This is Tami.”
“Hey, it’s David. I just called to tell you we won,” I said.
“Jeff told me he caught a touchdown pass and you made the game-winning tackle,” she congratulated me.