“I want you to look at the man standing next to you.”
They do.
“Some of you have been here since freshman year. Some of you transferred in, earned your spot like hell. But every single one of you has bled for this team. You’ve run the miles, taken the hits, watched films until your eyes burned, and shown up every single day.”
“I don’t care what the scoreboard says tonight. Not really. Because I already know who you are. You’re the hardest-working, most disciplined, most dangerous team I’ve ever had the privilege to coach.”
I pause. Let it sit.
“But make no mistake—this is your moment. Your shot. The last damn wall between you and the championship.”
“So when you walk out there, walk like you own it. Like your cleats were made for that turf. Like every play is yours to take. Because it is, you’ve earned this.”
“If something goes wrong, you fight. If they get in your head, you lock in harder. And if one of you falls, you pick each other up—because that’s what we do.”
“What happens out there tonight will stick with you for the rest of your life. So leave it all on the field. No fear. No doubt. No regret.”
I take a breath, eyes sweeping the room.
“I’m proud of you. More than I can say. Let’s finish this the way we started—together.”
Beat.
“Let’s go win a goddamn football game.”
And that’s precisely what they do.
The final score is34–21.
With tears in our eyes and sweat still drying on our skin, we make our way onto the field to celebrate—not just a win, but a legacy.
Coach Halestrom and I pull Maddox aside, right there on the field. It only feels right to tell him here—with the crowd stillroaring, the lights still blazing, and his parents standing beside him.
“Son,” Halestrom starts, his voice thick with pride, “we are so damn proud of what you’ve accomplished this season. You might’ve had a short run here, but you’ll always be a Falcon.” He wraps Maddox in a firm hug, then looks to me to finish it.
I step in, my chest tight with pride. “We got a call on Wednesday. Huntsville University. Coach Lion wants you on his field this fall—he's offering you a full-ride scholarship.”
Maddox stares at me, eyes wide, like he isn’t sure he heard me right.
I glance at my watch. “He’s drafting the paperwork now. It’ll be in your inbox in the next thirty minutes.”
Maddox’s mouth opens, but nothing comes out. Then his knees hit the turf, and both of his parents drop down beside him, wrapping him in their arms.
And in that moment—under the stadium lights, with the championship trophy still untouched and the scoreboard still glowing—I swear I’ve never been prouder.
I turn to Coach Halestrom, still buzzing from the win but already thinking about where I need to be next.
“I’m sorry I can’t stay to celebrate with you and the team,” I tell him. “I’ve got a flight to catch. I need to be home to celebrate with Stella tomorrow.”
He claps a hand on my shoulder, eyes warm despite the fatigue. “Go get her, Coach. You’ve earned that, too.”
I nod, gratitude tight in my chest, and take off across the lot—heading straight for my car, adrenaline still pumping, my heart already in Agave Hills.
Stella
The first two nights ofSweeney Toddwent perfectly.
The stage looked incredible. Costume design? Flawless. Makeup? Beyond what I could’ve dreamed.
