They also came in with a chip on their shoulder, wanting to destroy the Thunder’s win streak.
Dawson got it; if the shoe was on the other foot, he’d be heading into Buffalo determined to disrupttheirwin streak.
But the truth was, even though Dawson was new to this rivalry, itwasa rivalry. The two teams had a history going back years and years, which could be credited to how they’d both been on hot streaks during the last decade plus.
So this game being a hard-fought battle was not a surprise. They’d traded opening drive touchdowns, then both defenses had settled down and they’d traded field goals. Cam and theBills’ punter got work then, the game turning into a chess match of field position.
But right before the end of the half, Trevor caught a beauty of a deep pass from Aidan, and the sideline erupted cheers only for them to sink into groans, Trevor losing the ball when he tried to make another move and get the team a yard closer to the end zone.
When he came back to the bench, anger and frustration evident on his face, Lane reached out for him, but Trevor just batted his hand away, heading to the opposite end of the sideline, muttering under his breath.
“Well, shit,” Cam said, as they jogged into the tunnel. Instead of the Thunder scoring a touchdown before the half, the Bills had taken Trevor’s fumble and driven down to the thirty-six-yard line and then kicked a killer fifty-one field goal.
Aidan was typically pretty quiet at halftime but Dawson couldn’t remember the last time they were even behind at the end of the second quarter.
Today, he actually said a few words about how they were fighting and they needed to keep fighting.
The thought that had been rattling around Dawson’s brain since the game had started and that he’d tried so hard to ignore was now pressing in, inexorably:it’s going to come down to you. It’s going to come down to you and you’re not going to be ready.
Hewasready though. He knew how to kick a fifty-plus-yard field goal. He’d done it so many times before. Won a Super Bowl. Won championships. Had faced down the worst pressure a kicker could imagine and come out on top.
He had the mechanics and the skill and hewantedto believe he had the focus to get it done.
But the ghost of last season was haunting the corners of his mind still, no matter how he tried to push the memories out,tried to keep his mind squarely aimed on the challenge of today’s game.
At the end of the third, after the Bills had made it 20–10 with a long touchdown drive that had made Aidan scowl, Marty made his way over to check on where Dawson was practicing kicking into his net, keeping his leg warm in case he was needed.
With the way the game was going, he was already convinced that he’d be needed.
Marty coming over didn’t do anything to dissuade him.
“You hangin’ in there?” Marty asked.
“Yeah,” Dawson said, leaning over to grab the ball and set it back on the tee. “I’ll be ready.”
“Nobody thinks you won’t,” Marty said.
“We gotta get another TD first, before it’s even an issue,” Dawson pointed out wryly.
Marty waved in the direction of Aidan and the offensive guys, huddling up. “You don’t think they’ve got this?” He didn’t need to ask how many late-game drives and game-winning drives Aidan had led, because it was a lot.
Today was no exception. Dawson watched as Aidan shouldered the team on his back and for the first ten minutes of the fourth quarter drove them down the field and pulled them within three points. Mo caught the touchdown in the corner, and the stadium erupted, every fan, whether they were wearing Bills or Thunder blue, sensing an exciting end to the game.
Now the defense just had to get the ball back without giving up any more points, and then Aidan—and Dawson—would have to do the rest.
After Dawson returned to the sideline after kicking the extra point and kicking off, right through the end zone so the Bills returner wouldn’t have a chance to touch it, Nate and the defense huddled up and Aidan was already back on the bench, tablet in his hands.
Everyone was prepared to do what it took to win this game. Including Dawson. He went over to his net and began to gather his focus.
There was less than five minutes of regulation time left. The Bills would want to run the clock down with every play. If they got a handful of first downs, it would probably be enough to run the rest of the clock out, even if the Thunder used their timeouts.
There’d been a time when Dawson’s gaze would be glued to the field, watching and waiting to see if he’d get a chance to tie the game and send them to overtime.
But he’d learned his focus was tighter if he ignored what everyone else was doing and, instead, kept his attention solely on his task: kicking.
Dawson leaned over and stretched out, carefully, counting to ten and then twenty before moving on to the next position. Then he grabbed one of his balls and set it on the tee, kicking it, over and over until it felt like the feeling of his foot hitting it was echoing through every molecule of his body.
He glanced up once, when the crowd erupted, and saw that Josh Allen had rushed for a first down. That was one. They’d need at least another two if they didn’t want Aidan and the Thunder offense to get another crack at it.
