Page 120 of A Game as Old as Time

“Just get me that damn football back!” he shouted as loud as he could.

“Third down for Whitworth and the Allegheny Prep Crusaders. They have moved the ball slowly down the field, and with timerunning down, the Pioneers need a stop. Whitworth takes the snap and looks to run around the right side. Whitworth is looking for space, but here comes Cortez and…WHAT A HIT! Cortez stopped him just short of the first down.

And, well, folks, look at this. After Cortez’s game-saving tackle, it appears that the Allegheny sideline is going to hesitate. They’re going to go for it on fourth down and go for the WIN! With one minute and twenty seconds remaining, and the Pioneers out of timeouts, two yards will bring home a state championship for Allegheny Prep.

Whitworth looks over the defense with the clock continuing to run. He takes the snap and is going to drop back to pass. He is under pressure from Cortez again! Whitworth moves to his left and throws to the sideline. He has a receiver working against Malcolm Bailey and…”

“Gunner!”

The pandemonium, the entire sideline exploding, told him all he needed to know.

Our ball.

Gunner tried to stand, but his legs were still weak.

Deep breath, Gunner, it’s your moment.

He inhaled, using every ounce of energy he had to push his Nike cleats into the turf.

“Gunner!” Coach Bianchi called again, shifting his visor violently. “The trainer just told me that you took off all the protective padding and that you may have re-injured that shoulder. I am not---”

“Coach.” He was fighting to force a smile. “Trust me.”

Please.

His coach’s shoulders dropped, and his eyes softened. While the rest of the stadium was in chaos, the two stood in complete silence.

Come on, Coach.

“Damnit.” Coach Bianchi exhaled and shook his head. “OK. Stay to your right, protect yourself, and remember that you have no timeouts. Fifty seconds on the clock.”

Gunner flashed a more genuine smile.

“This is your game now.” Coach Bianchi pulled him close. “Make the calls, and don’t forget, fifty seconds for the state championship!”

A push sent Gunner jogging out onto the field. His teammates had all gathered in a huddle, waiting for him.

Take your moment.

He slowed and stood in front of his offense, the sound of heavy breathing crystal clear through the thunderous screaming of the crowd.

“Gentlemen…” he said, forcing the word out between bursts of pain.

“G, are you---”

Gunner laid his hand on the top of Emilio’s helmet to cut him off.

“One drive, one last moment. Together.” He turned to each player before finally landing on Ty. “And I wouldn’t want to be in this moment with anyone else but you guys.” Ty nodded his head slowly, a grin on his face. “Gun right, 234 aces. We have no timeouts, so get out of bounds when you can and get right to the ball.”

He took one more look around, inhaling quickly to hide the tremor that was making its way up his body.

“This is our moment. The one we’ve been working toward since we were six years old.” The entire huddle exhaled as one. “Now, let’s go take it!”

“Well, here we go. Gunner Weston, who just had his shoulder pads off in pain, will have to move his offense fifty yards against one of the greatest defenses we have ever seen in this state.

Weston comes to the line of scrimmage and stands in the shotgun. He calls out the cadence and takes the snap. He looks down the field and fires a pass to Andy Green! What a catch by Green, who takes the ball down to the Crusaders thirty-five-yard line!

The Pioneers have no timeouts, so they are going to hustle to the ball. Weston points out a new play using hand signals as the referee blows his whistle, the clock starting again. He takes the snap. Weston is put under pressure by Sampson but gets it dropped off to Carter! Tyquan Carter is now out in space. Carter runs to the twenty-five, now to the twenty. Carter is still on his feet and makes it down to the Crusaders twelve-yard line!

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