Chapter 41
Chapter Forty-One
NOAH
JANUARY
“Big Cats win!!!” We all jump up and down, screaming and hugging. Grabbing each other and our girls as we celebrate another NFL team’s win in Chrissy and Colin’s living room.
With that victory, and a loss for the Cyclops, the Hurricanes are headed to the playoffs!
For the first time in what feels like forever, I can taste the greatness coming. All that’s left is to reach out and grab it.
Sure, wildcard means we don’t get a break this week like some of the better-ranked teams. Yes, we have to go to California and play the Goldrush in their home stadium, but what matters is that we have a chance. One we just have to step up to.
The week of practice flies by. Every second of my day is about cramming for this game.
I never even studied this hard in college.
Never took classes as seriously as I’m taking this.
I’m studying film like I’m a teenager trying to get a perfect score on the SAT.
I only come up for food and for one episode of a TV show per night with Audrey.
Thankfully, she’s understanding of what’s at stake, and is grateful for any time I can give her right now with the hectic practice schedule we have.
Because she has the drive to make her own business a success, she understands the focus I have for this game.
She hasn’t been pouty or needy about my not sleeping over or inviting her to stay the night with me.
I need to be focused. This is the most perfect I’ve ever had to be in my life, and I can’t have anything start to unravel before the referees even flip the coin.
She’s coming to California, of course. Seeing her on the field before a game has become a key part of my pregame routine. I can’t be without her. Her absence would be bad luck.
I walk down the sideline now, stopping and checking on guys. I tap their helmets with my gloved hand as I go. “Let’s fucking go, boys!”
Colin pats me right back. “This is it!”
“Your time to shine, baby! Let ’em know!”
I stand and watch as Colin and Dakota, the Goldrush captain, go to the refs and do the coin toss. It’s announced over the loudspeaker. “It’s heads. Would you like to kick or receive?”
“Kick,” Colin says. Smart man. That means we’ll get the ball back at the beginning of the second half.
Now I wait for the defense to do their job.
They come through. Holding the Goldrush to only a three-point field goal. They can score some points, but holding them from a touchdown is big. You want to bend, not break. Offense wins games, but defense wins championships.
All those clichés. But they’re clichés for a reason.
I jog on to the field. I shouldn’t, but I look up to where Audrey is sitting anyway.
There’s no team suite for us at an away game, so she’s tucked into the stands like every other fan.
That’s the only time I’m allowed to look for her tonight.
No distractions. My eyes travel a few rows above her and my eyes widen in surprise when I spot my parents.
They called to tell me they were coming, but since I didn’t buy their seats, I had no idea until right now where they were sitting.
They’re leaning close together talking so they don’t spot me looking at them.
My parents and the love of my life, separated by less than seven rows of stadium chairs.
My stomach drops when it hits me—they’re going to meet each other for the first time. Right here.
Today.
We have to win this game. I don’t even want to know what form of disappointed my dad will take if we don’t come out of this with a win. I don’t want that to be Audrey’s first impression of him.
We run it on the first play, so I block the guy across from me to give Jaden some space to slip through. He does and goes for a couple more yards, making it third and five.
We continue to move the ball. The defense is wary of our shotgun downfield plays, so they’re giving us some slack.
They’ve also taken to a bend-don’t-break style of defense.
We’ve got patience, so we don’t have a problem moving the ball slowly.
The longer the offense is on the field, the more time the defense has to catch their breath.
Things are close until Nixon, our punt returner, flubs his punt return.
It slips through his hands and rolls across the ground.
The Goldrush recover it on our five-yard line and are in position to score before the end of the quarter.
The crowd is going wild. This is the turnover of a lifetime for the home team.
“Let’s go, D!” we scream from the sidelines.
It’s fucking awful being on offense. Watching the defense take their stand in game-winning scenarios while I just sit on the side like an idiot, unable to do anything but cheer them on and cross my fingers.
If I could play both sides of the ball and be in on every snap, I would.
I’ve actually heard there’s a kid in college doing that exact thing this season, which is wild.
Wyatt makes the stop. He’s been up in the quarterbacks’s face all day, not giving them any time in the pocket, and you can tell he’s getting mad. He slams his helmet down when he runs off the field, frustrated that they couldn’t convert in the red zone. But that’s exactly what we needed.
When the first half ends, we’re down 19-13. We’re not out of this yet. The defense has actually saved us from this game being 29-13.
Defense continues to make stop after stop in the second half. Forcing the Goldrush to punt on their next two drives. They’re the only thing keeping this game close, even as we edge toward the fourth quarter.
I line up to receive on a basic out route.
When Colin calls “Blue forty-two. Set. Hut!” I burst into motion.
My defenseman is all over me, but I beat him to the edge.
I turn to look for the ball from Colin and see him scrambling toward me.
I turn in his direction and circle back his way, giving him someone to dish to.
He sees me and throws it just out of my natural reach.
I dive for it and make the catch. They move the sticks, and we settle in for the next play.
Jaden is a shifty son of a bitch as he flies through the defensive line a couple plays later. We line up again at the seven-yard line.
This is it. If we don’t get a touchdown here, they get a chance at one on their next possession. If they do that, we might be out of this game completely.
Colin snaps the ball, and I run the cross route behind the defensive line and toward the end zone. Colin zips it to me and I push my way with all my weight to the end zone…
TOUCHDOWN.
The stadium is horribly quiet as we get together in the end zone to celebrate. Lineman pat my helmet and bash me on the shoulders. Colin and I knock our helmets together. “Let’s finish this!”
When we kick off to the Goldrush, it’s the beginning of the fourth quarter.
We’re up by one point. A horrible amount to be up by because the only thing worth one point in football is an extra point, which you can only get after you score a touchdown or a safety.
If they march down and score a touchdown, and go for two instead of the field goal, we are fucked.
Just as they have throughout this entire game, the defense holds.
They’re an immovable wall in the backfield.
They strike fast as lightning on the blitz.
The quarterback’s frustration over his lack of time in the pocket has made him unfocused.
They’re only able to get to our twenty-yard line and are unable to find the end zone.
So they have to settle for a field goal, which they make.
We take the field again, the score at twenty-two to twenty.
We need a touchdown or a field goal to win.
And we need to make sure we don’t move down the field so fast we give the Goldrush the ball back with enough time to score again.
This is when you have to lean on your offensive coordinator to know the game within the game well enough to lead you to victory.
Their defense finds their balls and makes a good final stand. Everyone is running out of gas, but this is the time to dig deep.
Do or die.
I block for the run. I sweep out for the pass and watch as Colin throws the ball toward Jaden and it tips off his fingers and falls toward the ground.
The safety is on him like glue, diving for the ball as it falls.
All I can do is hold my breath as it plays out in front of me.
An interception at this point will kill us.
This is our last possession of the game, and it has to end in points.
I watch, not breathing, as the ball pops in and out of their hands. When it hits the turf and the refs call the play dead, I sigh with relief. It does waste a down, but it isn’t a dagger to the heart.
I have no idea where the defense mustered the moxie to make this stand, but they did, and they do. We aren’t able to get in the end zone. The coverage is too tight, and we are running out of attainable first downs.
We’re going to have to settle for a field goal.
Our kicker is pretty new. Booker is a rookie out of Kansas State. He’s not been super reliable this season, and it’s been frustrating to watch him miss time and time again. He’s had a lackluster year, and now we have to put this game in his hands.
I stand on the sidelines, again, as the special teams line up for the kick.
It’s snapped.
Held.
Booted.
And…
It’s not good.
The doink reverberates off the goal post and straight through my fucking heart as our chances at the Super Bowl die right here.
The home crowd goes wild. They just witnessed their team duke it out in a super close game and come out on top.