Page 96 of A Game as Old as Time

The two celebrating wide receivers joined the rest of the team in a huddle.

It’s not done yet.

Gunner immediately turned to the sidelines to get instructions.

“Gunner! Five seconds! You have one chance.” Coach Bianchi was motioning the play in, calling for a run to Ty up the middle.

He can get it.

The crowd was screaming, the noise reverberating all around him as he nodded to his coach.

“Got it!” He shot a thumbs-up and ran back to the group---all eyes on him.

“OK, one play, guys, no timeouts.”

Gunner peeked at the opposing team, which was getting into formation. All their hands were on their hips as they gathered around the football, which sat two yards from the endzone.

They know the play.

He leaned over Emilio, hitting Ty on the helmet.

“Look, these guys think we’re going to run Ty right at them. In fact, this entire stadium thinks we’re going to do that.” Ty was staring forward, focused. “So, let’s mix it up. How about we run Tight 22 wham with a boot action right.” Ty’s eyes shot to Gunner, questioning. “Don’t worry.” He smiled at his best friend. “You carried us this whole game, Ty. We got you…I got you.”

He called the play again and sent the team to the ball.

“G!” JT caught him before he could fully spin around. “I can get you a block, but the corner…if he doesn’t bite on the fake to Ty, well, he might be waiting for you.”

Gunner threw on a smile.

“I’ll take care of it---I’ve got this.”

He winked and sent JT on his way.

Just breathe.

Gunner set behind Emilio, watching the entire defense clutter to the middle of the field. He smirked at all the green jerseys pointing and screaming at Ty, and as he shifted his attention to the sideline, he saw that his coach’s head was down, not watching the play.

One chance.

He inhaled and looked toward his sister, who was no longer in line with the other cheerleaders. She looked nervous.

One moment.

Finally, he found his mother, who had her arm wrapped around someone in front of her.

Hailey.

She was clasping her face, eyes glued to the field.

I’ve got this.

“Here we go, first and goal from the two-yard line. This is the last play of the game. Weston settles behind Cortez. He calls out the cadence and looks over the defense. Weston takes the snap and hands off…no, it’s a fake! Weston is heading around the right side! He gets a block from Jefferson Taylor! Weston has one man between him and the endzone! He runs toward the pylon and dives…”

The force of the ground knocked the wind out of Gunner’s lungs. The second bounce brought shooting pain into his left arm. He could feel the ball still sucked tightly against his chest as he peered up into the black sky.

Did I get in?

Screams were echoing all around, but he could not tell which sidelinethey were coming from.

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