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FIFTY-ONE

lorenzo

The noise of the crowded stadium is so thunderous I feel it under my ribs. Our opposing team’s home crowd is impressive; I’ll give them that. But all that cheering hasn’t been enough to earn them the lead. And if I get my way, it won’t give them the win either.

It’s game nine and my first game back for the season.

If we win this one, we clinch a berth in the conference championship.

I thought I’d be back by week seven, but those two extra weeks were worth it, because I’ve been on fire every time I take the field.

I thank the universe every day for Dr. Halpert, for my trainers, for my patience, and for the girl who got me here.

She’s somewhere in this crowd, wearing my jersey, which makes me feel like the luckiest dude on earth. But no time to think about that now.

It’s the last play of the game and we’re up by five points, but the other team has the momentum.

They’ve been driving the ball down the field, wearing us down and threatening to score.

We’re exhausted, banged up, and smeared with mud from this morning’s rain.

And if they get a touchdown, there won’t be time left on the clock for us to retake the ball and win back the lead.

Somebody has to make a play to stop them. Might as well be me.

We’re almost at the goal line as I line up in the middle of our defensive formation. I’m looking right into the opposing quarterback’s eyes. I see how much he wants this win—how much he thinks he’s about to get it.

Fuck him.

He gets the offense set and starts barking the signals.

A man goes in motion, and our defense adjusts their alignment.

Time slows down, and I know I have to act on my instincts to make something happen.

The ball is snapped and I feel the play flowing to my left.

I see the left guard pulling, and I’m able to split the down block from the tackle as I see the quarterback hand the ball off to the running back.

I rip through and hit the running back at a full sprint, putting my shoulder into his chest. My helmet is right under his chin as his feet lift off the grass.

I hear the air go out of him as I drive him into the ground and time runs off the clock.

The play is dead. We win.

I push myself off the running back and whoop as my teammates come together. Our shouts and cheers feel like the only sounds in the stadium, most of the crowd now silent.

Except, of course, for the section where Ruby sits alongside my family. I can’t hear her, but I know she’s out there, high-fiving Anthony and cheering louder for me than anyone. Like she always has.

By the time we exit the field, she’s made her way through the quickly emptying stadium to the seats next to the tunnel.

She’s flushed and grinning, her face painted with my number on both cheeks.

She’s never looked more beautiful in anything than she does in my bright red jersey.

Anthony stands behind her, his smile pure happiness, and I know he’s as proud of me today as I am of myself.

Behind me, someone excitedly tells me I better play like this again next week, and I pretend not to hear him.

I’m not gonna go there yet. I want another win, I want the conference championship, I want the NFL contract and the perfect life and all the other dreams I’ve been working for.

Ruby blows me a kiss as I go by. But I have what I really need. I always did.