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Two more at most to go.
We had to just keep getting the ball down the field.
The conditions were certainly ripe for a win.
Someone to win. There was no guarantee yet that it would be us.
That second down had yielded a good amount more yardage, but we were just short of completing a necessary touchdown.
So now came the debate.
Did we run it through?
Did we try another pass?
Or did we push for a field goal?
Whatever way we went, if we didn’t make it happen now, the chances of the Behemoths getting it all the way back across the field were slim, which would mean overtime.
Again.
And we were already exhausted.
The game had been going long as fuck, and we were cold as fuck.
We were ready to nip this in the bud, one way or another.
The decision was made to run it in, and so it began.
The line up, the countdown, the snap, the tackle, the—Shit!!
There was a brief moment of chaos where I saw the ball go flying, and then… it was on the ground.
Nobody touching it.
No.
No.
As I watched, from too far away to do shit about it, a cornerback from the Behemoths grabbed the ball.
And he was off.
Fucking blazing.
If I wasn’t personally victimized by the shit I saw happening in front of me right now, I lowkey would have been impressed.
But there was no time for that.
We were already right on his heels, but that little motherfucker was agile, dodging every attempt to take him off the field.
He was running.
Running.
Running.
Right into the end zone.