Page 116 of A Game as Old as Time

“I found out that even in the darkest moments, the moments when all seemed lost…that you were willing to stand up. You were willing to accept the challenge, even against everything stacked against you.”

Coach Bianchi took a few steps in Gunner’s direction.

“You took a scared town. A town that was lost, and you put it on your back, against all odds. YOU became the leaders. YOU became the ones who showed us how to heal, and YOU did it together!”

Yeah, we did.

Gunner nodded, and his coach’s voice rose a bit more.

“Did you make mistakes? Of course. Did it go the way you planned? No, it never does.” He locked eyes with Gunner. “But that’s just life. It’s unfair. It’s not a fairytale that always has a happy ending.”

Gunner took a deep breath, his blood pounding in his ears.

“Our life is a story, gentleman, one that we do not read but live. One that is lived in moments that shape us for the rest of our lives. This…this is something that each and every one of you have taught me.”

Coach Bianchi paused briefly and then moved toward the door leading to the tunnel.

“So, maybe it is unfair. Maybe they are bigger, faster, and stronger.”

Gunner stood without realizing that he had moved.

“But maybe, well, just maybe, the next two quarters aren’t set in stone. Maybe the next two quarters are not about how fast someone can run or how much they can bench press. Maybe we make the next two quarters about something else…something like this!” Coach Bianchi pivoted around and pointed to his eyes. “And maybe, just maybe, we make it about this!” He balled up his hand and pounded his chest.

Maybe.

“The eyes tell you everything you need to know about someone, and I can promise you…” He peered across the room, pointing the football at each of them in turn. “I can promise you: That team in the other locker room has never looked into the eyes of anyone like you.”

The assistant coaches propped the door open. The sound of the marching band’s half-time show penetrated the room.

“The next two quarters will be the final moments that you play together as a football team. What happens next is up to you. Don’t let anyone else decide these moments for you. Live it; breathe it.” He stepped through the door. “TAKE IT!”

The two words echoed behind him. The door slammed shut, and the team was alone. Alone and together.

“Well, folks, we are ready for the second half of play, and it looks like Coach Bianchi is going to be pulling out all the stops. Gunner Weston is going to be heading out with the defense to see if he can help slow down the Crusaders’ potent offensive attack.”

“Gunner! What the hell are you doing?” Coach Bianchi had caught him before he could get onto the field. “I can’t let you get on this---”

Gunner tapped his coach’s shoulder just as the referee blew the whistle.

“I’m living my own moment, Coach.”

The tension was palpable as the two stood, staring each other down. The bands dueled in the background. Screams and noise echoed around them, but neither budged.

Please.

Gunner was not about to back down. After their coach left, the team made this decision together.

“Gunner…” Coach Bianchi was clearly fighting himself. “This, I mean, I can’t---”

“I got this, Coach. Trust me.”

He never gave his coach a chance to make the decision. Gunner immediately took off to the huddle and joined Emilio, who was calling out the defensive play.

“Are you sure about this, G?” asked the bulky linebacker.

“If these boys want a fairytale ending, let’s make them earn it.” Gunner slapped Bailey’s helmet. “We know this guy is going to bring the ball right at us. Bailey, take on the blocker. Let me and Emilio clean it up.”

The young cornerback nodded, and in seconds, the whole team had broken into position.

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