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“Welcome, Pioneer fans, to another year of South Mountain football! It will be an emotional night for all, as, for the first time in almost fifteen years, a new coach will be on the sidelines. Everyone on the field will be playing with heavy hearts tonight, but none more than quarterback Gunner Weston. It will be up to Coach Bianchi to keep his team and his quarterback in the right mindset as they prepare for what should be a stiff challenge against Neversink High. Last year, these two teams played a classic, and we expect another close one tonight as Pennsylvania high school football gets underway!”

**********

“Daddy?” Hailey watched as her father finally switched off the radio and dropped back against the seat of the car. “Daddy, are you OK?” He slid forward, adjusting the visor on his head.

I hate when he does that.

“You bet, sweetheart.” It was clearly a lie, but he left her no time for a rebuttal as he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “You sure you don’t want to stay and watch the game tonight?”

He was almost pleading with her---again---as he reached for the door handle .

“I think I will pass.” She tried to smile but was distracted by all the fans heading into the stadium.

This is crazy for some dumb high school sport.

As she turned her gaze back to him, she could see his blank stare reaching out across the parking lot.

“Thanks for stopping by and wishing me luck. I can’t wait to see you girls tonight when I get home.” He sounded exhausted. Hailey’s forced grin only got a gentle nod from him before he opened the door.

I hate all of this.

Her father’s slumped shoulders was just another reminder of why she hated this sport so much. The long hours of watching stupid tapes, the hot practices, and now he was babysitting a bunch of spoiled high school kids.

“Daddy,” she said before he closed the door, “remember, it is just a game.”

He tapped the window and nodded before moving toward the school.

It is just a stupid game.

A knock on the top of the car distracted her from her father.

“Hey!” Juliana had somehow found her.

Oh boy.

She rolled down her window and tried to match her friend’s enthusiasm.

“Hey!” Hailey responded, and she waved to a few students she had met at the party the week before.

“You coming? Want to come with?” Juliana pointed to a few seniors who were already heading down the hill to the stadium .

“No, I don’t really like football,” Hailey admitted.

“Your dad is a football coach, and you don’t like the sport?”

Absolutely.

“The fact that my dad coaches is probably the main reason why I do not like football.” The blunt truth was followed by a nervous giggle as she lowered her head. “It is also probably not good for the coach’s daughter to sit by herself in the crowd during a game. It tends to get a little hostile.”

Juliana leaned in. “You won’t be by yourself. I’ll be with you.”

She is great.

The response brought a sincere smile to Hailey’s face as she shifted in the seat. The girl now peering into her window had, so far, been one of the only positive things about moving to this town. Hailey was still trying to figure out how Juliana was twins with the jerk of a brother that Hailey had met at the party. Juliana was so pretty and genuine, while her brother Emilio was bulky, loud, and full of himself.

“Maybe next time.” Hailey could see the parking lot filling up, and she gripped the steering wheel tight.

I need to go.

Juliana remained for a second before backing away.

“I’ll hold you to that,” she said as she started toward the stadium. “I’ll make sure to text you and let you know who wins!”

Hailey fired the engine of her SUV to life and waved as the group left.

I will know who won.

She flipped the car into drive and waited for a few more fans to pass.

One look at Daddy tonight, and I will know.

********* *

Life is made of moments.

Gunner took a deep breath, his hands resting on his kneepads.

It’s what you do with those moments, Gunner.

He kept replaying his father’s voice in his head as he kneeled by himself in the endzone.

You can do this.

He gathered his strength and finally stood. The eyes of the entire town seared his neck. The pregame warmups were still going on, but all the attention from the stands had fallen on him.

“G!” Ty was behind him now. “You ready for this?”

Maybe?

Gunner took one more deep breath and put his fingers in front of his mouth, whispering to himself.

It’s what you do with those moments.

He bent down, grabbing the white and blue helmet at his feet. The reflection of his face in the polished helmet greeted him as the burning lights above intensified.

In the past, this was where he had felt at home. The fresh smell of cut grass, the lights beaming down, and the crowd screaming. He always felt safe between these lines, like he could accomplish anything or take on anyone.

Just be yourself.

“Let’s do this,” he said unconvincingly, but it was enough to spring Ty into motion .

They took off to the sideline, Gunner surveying the crowd until he found his mom in the bleachers. She was up near the press box, where she always sat, but he could tell that something was different tonight. A slight shimmer that he knew was a tear glistened on her cheek.

Don’t cry.

He jogged briskly to the bench and grabbed some water. A cotton taste he had never experienced before a game was spreading down his throat.

“Gunner.” The voice was soft and made him twist around.

P.

Peyton stood in her cheerleading outfit behind the bench as tears built in her eyes.

No.

“Hey, it’s alright.” He ran over and hugged her tightly.

“Are you OK?” she mumbled as the tears began to stream down.

“I’m OK, little sis.” He tried to recall that forced smile he had been practicing. “Going to win this for him tonight.” He squeezed her one more time and kissed her on the head. “Just you watch.”

They inhaled as one before separating; for a few seconds, Gunner struggled to let go.

It’s OK, baby sis.

Peyton had been so strong over the last few months, but the way she looked tonight, with mascara smearing under her eyes, made his insides churn. The look of pure sadness mixed with exhaustion was too much.

“Give Mom a wave.” He knew she needed it too. The weight he had felt in the endzone was nothing compared to what he was feeling now.

“Thanks, Gunner,” Peyton whispered, her voice cracking as three other cheerleaders came to walk her back to the track.

It’s what you do with your moments.

He took a few more deep breaths before throwing on his helmet and beginning a slow jog to his teammates. Coach Bianchi had waited for him, and the whole team welcomed him with pats and cheers.

“Let’s go, G!” Emilio shouted, slapping him on the helmet.

OK, here we go.

He glanced over at Andy and JT, who were grinning as well. The rest of the group pulled in tight as Coach Bianchi bent down.

He was taller than Gunner had initially expected him to be. In fact, he was just a little shorter than JT, and his stocky build made his arms swing by his side. He continually adjusted the visor on his head to show his bald spot. Though Gunner only had a few weeks of practice with the man, he was beginning to believe it was a nervous twitch the coach didn’t realize he had.

“OK, guys. You’ve worked all off-season for this. You have made sacrifices and pushed yourselves to your limits. Now it’s time to play our game. It’s time to play Pioneer football. Play hard, play tough, and play smart. Pioneers on three: one, two, three!”

The team broke the huddle as Gunner and Coach Bianchi locked eyes.

“I got this for you, bro!” Ty jumped in between them as he prepared to return the opening kickoff, but they did not break the stare.

Does he want to say something to me?

Their gazes remained entangled until the referee’s whistle cut through the air. An explosion of cheers erupted behind them before Coach Bianchi finally pivoted away.

“We are seconds away from the opening kickoff to another season of South Mountain football. Tyquan Carter will be back to return the opening kick, and you can already feel the anticipation in the stadium. And here we go, the kick is a long one and is taken by Carter at his own five-yard line. Carter sprints up the right side, breaks a tackle at the fifteen-yard line, and another at the twenty! Tyquan Carter is now at the twenty-five, the thirty, and is finally brought down around the thirty-five-yard line by two Neversink Bobcat defenders! What an electric player Tyquan Carter is!”

“Hell yeah, Ty!” Gunner sprinted onto the field and slapped his helmet.

Great start!

A sense of normalcy was beginning to wash across him as he made his way into the huddle. The feeling of being with his teammates, on this field, imparted a sense of control he had not felt in months. His eyes skipped across the two lines of players, five in front and five in back. All of them were waiting for him and the play call that would start the season.

“OK, men,” he said, nodding. “Let’s do this!” When he called out the play, the words floated out of his mouth like a song: “Gun Right, 24 pull trap on one.”

He pushed Emilio toward the ball, repeating the play as the entire huddle clapped in unison.

“Break!”

Gunner slowly inched his way to the line, surveying the field. The orange helmets of the opposing team were dancing; the reflections of the late summer sun and lights beaming off the plastic brought back his slight headache. He squinted, trying to focus, as he stopped five yards behind where Emilio was bent over.

Focus .

The orange helmets settled into position. A few players pointed out Ty in the backfield as Gunner inhaled.

Just hand it to Ty and let him go.

He brought his hands in front of his face again, blowing on his fingers, and repeated one more time.

“It’s what you do with your moments.”

“First and ten for the Pioneers as Gunner Weston approaches the line. I think we all feel for this kid playing with such a heavy heart, only 4 months after losing his father. Weston calls out the cadence and takes the snap out of the shotgun. He hands it to Carter, who moves to the right side and is stopped for a short gain. The Bobcat defense was waiting for Carter, and he picked up only a few yards on the play.

Second down for the Pioneers now as Weston comes under center this time. He calls out the cadence once again and takes the snap. He pitches to Carter, who tries to make it around the left side but is quickly tackled by a pack of Bobcats! Coach Bianchi has to realize that Neversink is going to be waiting for Carter to get the ball, and they’ll have to throw on third down.

Here we go, third down, and Weston is back in the shotgun. Weston HANDS OFF to Carter, and he is quickly wrapped up in the backfield. Wow! I was not expecting a run play on third down and long, but it looks like Coach Bianchi is not yet comfortable letting Gunner Weston throw the ball. It will be fourth down, and the Pioneers will have to punt.”

Gunner dropped his head as he ran to the sideline, throwing off the side of his chin strap.

“No worries, no worries!” Coach Bianchi was in full throat, clapping his hands. “Just keep playing hard, keep playing hard. ”

Bullshit.

Gunner stomped to the bench and snatched a cup of water.

“What do you see?” Coach Bianchi had followed him back to the bench. His visor shifted feverishly as he leaned closer.

“I see they know our game plan,” Gunner said sarcastically as he reattached his chin strap. “We need to throw the ball if we’re going to have any chance of winning.”

Stupid play calling.

Gunner ran by his coach without another word. The defense had gathered and was preparing to take the field.

“Gunner!” Coach Bianchi shouted as he sidestepped another coach and readjusted his visor again. “Get me the ball back, and I’ll let you have your chance.”

Whatever you say, Coach.

Gunner only stared as the defensive play call rang through the air.

“OK! Let’s make a statement!” Emilio was practically seething as he made the call. “Tight Cover 2 sag, Tight Cover 2 sag!”

Gunner was on autopilot as he jogged to the rear in his safety position and began to scan the orange helmets lining up in front of him.

Get the ball back.

“G!” Ty yelled from his cornerback spot in the far-right side of the field. “Watch the second receiver, Acosta, on the inside! Dude is fast---be careful!”

Gunner flashed a thumbs-up and replayed what Coach Bianchi had said.

Just give me my chance .

He was the one seething now---the players in front of him started to fan out into position.

“OK, folks, the Bobcats have the ball after the punt, and it will be Rodney Stevens at quarterback. The young sophomore quarterback looks over the line of scrimmage and calls out his cadence. He takes the snap and fakes the handoff to his running back. Stevens is going to look deep on the first play of the game! He lofts one down the field and has a man! It’s his receiver, Acosta, and…”

Shit.

Gunner lowered his head as he pulled up near the endzone.

I got beat.

He threw his hands down by his side, the opposing team running by and celebrating.

How did I get beat on the first play?

Gunner’s mind spun as he walked slowly to the sideline. The cheers from the metal bleachers on the visitor’s side had begun to echo through the stadium.

“God damnit, Gunner!” Emilio screamed as he rushed off the field. “What the hell were you doing?” He stood, his arms straight out, while Gunner pushed by to take a seat on the bench. “Hey!” Emilio tried again. “Gunner!”

Enough.

Gunner shot up from the bench and grabbed him by the facemask.

“Just worry about yourself, and block the guy in front of you for once.”

What is wrong with me?

Emilio didn’t respond. He froze as the rest of the team looked on .

“Gunner!” Coach Bianchi waved him forward. “Are you good? Do you have your head in this game?”

Yes.

Gunner could feel his coach’s eyes on him as he glared out onto the field.

Just let me throw the damn ball.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

His coach’s gaze never wavered. After the kickoff, another loud explosion from the crowd made Coach Bianchi jerk his visor back across his head before he pointed to the laminated play sheet he held.

“OK, then let’s open these sons of guns up. Let’s go Gun Left 384 X Slant. Watch the safety, and make sure he isn’t cheating, OK?”

Gunner’s glare remained straight ahead, the orange helmets now a blur as they moved back into position.

“Gunner!”

His head shot back, and he nodded.

“Got it, Coach,” he said, sprinting out onto the field.

My time.

The huddle was silent as Gunner approached and repeated the play.

“On two, on two, ready!” The break was less enthusiastic this time.

“G, you OK?” Ty leaned over to him as they set into position, but Gunner’s eyes were already scanning the defense.

Your moment.

“OK, we’ve got first and ten for the Pioneers as they try to recover from what has been a terrible start to this game. Weston, back in shotgun again, takes the snap. He sets quickly and throws, and it is…”

The safety!

Gunner never saw him. He broke on the ball so fast that his receiver never had a chance to prevent the interception.

You have got to be kidding me!

The opposing player was already speeding down the sideline, his arms waving as he pranced into the endzone.

What am I doing!?

Gunner tried to move, but his feet were glued to the ground as the orange helmets started celebrating and jumping around him.

“G?” Andy grabbed him by the arm. “G, that safety was reading that shit, man.” Gunner’s headache was intensifying. “G?” Andy grabbed his shoulder pads and steered him toward the sidelines.

“My bad…” Gunner could only mumble. His pupils were darting around uncontrollably as his vision blurred.

“You, OK?” Gunner could hear the alarm in his friend’s voice.

No.

He strained and squinted up to his mom, who was now standing. Her face was splashed with concern as she clapped her hands together and tried to beam a smile in his direction.

I am not OK.

He twisted and peered out onto the field. The other sideline was cheering madly, the orange helmets taunting him with each celebratory bounce.

********* *

“Well, Pioneer fans, not the start we wanted in the first game of the year. A tough 28-14 loss to Neversink will push South Mountain to 0-1. A terrible start was too much to overcome, and while our boys played better in the second half, one must wonder what was going on in Gunner Weston’s head. He struggled early, and it continued through most of the game. While Tyquan Carter continued to show why he is the best running back in the state, the question must be asked: Is it too much for Weston to come back and play after such a horrific loss?”