The entire Dragons team is on the field, celebrating until one of the refs throws a flag for excessive celebration or delay of game or something. Fuck, I have no clue. All I know is the Dragons are ahead by two points with only seconds left in the game.
Once they clear the field, our kicker, Jax Caruso, puts up the extra point, giving the Dragons a three point lead.
I stand up again, feeling a little bit like a jack-in-the-box from all this up and down. All we have to do is hold on. If the Tornadoes get into field goal range, they could tie up the game, and I don’t think I could handle overtime right now.
But the Dragons have the momentum, and our defense is hyped up when they take the field. After a sack, an incomplete pass, and a tackle for loss, we’re down to the last play of the game.
I hold my breath in anticipation. Their fullback takes a direct snap, but our ladies pick it up immediately, and a few seconds later… it’s over.
The breath expels from my lungs, fogging the glass in front of me. The Houston Dragons have just won the very first WNFL Super Bowl.
And my woman is a superstar.
By the time my family and I get down to the field, it’s covered in purple and silver confetti, and there are thousands of people celebrating.
“Daddy, where’s Jordie?” Reece asks, bouncing on my hip so her little dragon wings flap on her back.
I’m taller than most of the people here, so I’m able to scan and find her near the fifty-yard line, surrounded by reporters. The black stripe beneath her eyes is smudged down her face. Blonde hair is damp and plastered to her head, and her low ponytail hangs limply down her back.
She is fucking gorgeous, radiant and confident as she speaks with reporters. I listen as she praises the defense for holding tight after the offense got off the field for the last time. She’s charming the pants off them, and they hang on her every humble and gracious word. As soon as she’s done, she grins and waves, turning only to be swarmed by her family, who were waiting impatiently off to the side.
After that, the Philly girls surround her. I watch from afar as Kam,Kennedy, and Sulley pose for pictures with Jordie, all of them wearing her jersey. They’re all so excited for her, and I love to see these women from basketball, softball, and football supporting each other.
I take a step closer, but another group approaches her. I recognize Jordie’s high school coach, Drake Cooper, and his wife, Lainey. They’d both been interviewed a few times this week after Jordie called them out during a press conference. The other men with them appear to be members of Cooper’s coaching staff. There are hugs and much analysis of the game, and Lainey Cooper bawls almost the entire time. Then, once again, they all pose for numerous smiling photos.
Reece, unable to contain her excitement, yells out, “Jordie!” and my newly crowned Super Bowl champ’s eyes light up when she sees us. She breaks away from the group and jogs over, grabbing Reece and twirling her in a circle. My heart is so full seeing my girls smiling and laughing together, and I lift my phone to snap a couple pics.
“You did so good, Jordie. You caught that ball like this!” Reece stretches her arms over her head to mimic that last touchdown pass.
“Yep, I definitely had to reach for that one,” she says with a chagrined smile. “Hey, I have something for you.” She turns and searches the crowd, signaling when she finds who she’s looking for. A ball boy runs up and hands over a football.
Jordie gives the ball to Reece. “This was the ball I caught at the end. Would you like to keep it?”
My daughter’s eyes are blue saucers as her head bobs up and down. She may be young, but even she recognizes the importance of this gift. “I’ll keep it in my room so I can see it every day.” I massage my chest with shaking fingertips as Reece tucks the ball beneath her arm and uses her other one to hug Jordie. “Thank you, Jordie. I love it.”
Jordie sets her down, and Reece runs over to my brother to show him her new treasure, and I’m left facing my beautiful, sweaty woman who has purple confetti in her hair. I want to grab her and kiss her till she can’t breathe, but I’m fully aware of her family milling nearby.
So I give her a PG-13 hug, not too much body contact, though the embrace lingers longer than it should. “I’m so fucking proud of you,” I say against her ear.”
“I love you,” she replies, and I close my eyes.
“I love you too, baby. And your ass looks fan-fucking-tastic in those pants.”
Reluctantly, I release her just as Bubba runs up and grabs his sister again, looping her beneath his arm like a football. She screams and laughs, slapping at his stomach.
“This is how I carried you around when you were a toddler, Jordie-pie,” he announces.
Jordie-pie.I’m going to have to remember that one.
The rest of the family files up, and Bubba takes that opportunity to scoop Juliette under his other arm, drawing a squeal from her too. Both of his sisters now rest beneath his massive arms, facing each other with their blonde ponytails almost touching the ground.
“What is wrong with him?” Juliette asks Jordie.
“I think someone dropped him on his head as a baby,” she replies. “Or maybe he ate paint chips?”
The sisters look at each other and simultaneously nod at some silent agreement before reaching for their brother’s stomach and tickling him. The big guy jolts and almost drops them.
“Dammit, stop,” he grunts, putting them gently on their feet and rubbing at his belly. “You know I can’t stand being tickled.”
