He falls back, searching for an opening, and Brady fliesright up the center for the sack. I’m dancing on the sidelines waiting for my turn. I don’t have to wait long.
Jogging onto the field, I’ve got Baker, Fonz, Etienne, Kyler, and Raymond with me. The dream team.
A quick huddle, and we’re on the line of scrimmage. I nod to Fonz, and he signals Etienne, who is crouched a few feet in front of me ready to make the snap.
He gives the line a slight nod of his head, and the ball shoots into my hands as I fall back.
Protection surrounds me. Raymond, Fonz, and Etienne hold the Arizona line of defense, but they dig in harder. The Cardinals aren’t about to get beat on their home turf.
Tuning out all of it, I scan downfield looking for an opening. Kyler is in trouble, but Baker is spinning away from a cornerback, getting in position for a big play.
In my peripheral, I see an Arizona linebacker headed straight for me. I don’t have time to wonder where my protection has gone. I see the opening, and I pull back and shoot it, a tight spiral, twenty yards directly into Baker’s waiting arms.
He does a spin, and he’s out of the corner’s grip. He digs into that sweet, Bermuda grass like a gazelle and flies down the field at top speed. The crowd is on their feet, and even though our fan base here is small, they’re making noise at this play. It’s one for the highlight reels.
A clean pass, a beautiful catch, and a nice, fifty-yard dash all the way to the endzone. We’re on the board in the first quarter.
If only it stayed that way.
The Cardinals coach must have a cattle prod, because after our first magical play, it’s all downhill for the Saints.
We line up in a simple I-formation, and on the pass, I fake a handoff to my running back. As planned, the defense takes the bait, but before I can get it off to Kyler, that same damnlinebacker breaks through and takes me down, costing us yards.
Another lineup, another break in the line. I don’t even have time to lock eyes with Baker before I’m forced to throw it away. Our kicker misses the field goal, and the defense heads onto the field.
They hold the line. No points are scored, but when we return to the field, we’re equally held. Again, no points.
It’s starting to look like neither defense is going to break… until ours does.
Their fake-out is successful, and the Cardinals manage to score. They get the extra point, and it’s our turn again. To do nothing.
I’m able to fire off some great passes, but one is over Kyler’s head and the other is out of bounds before Baker can reach it. My jaw is clenched as we leave the field. I nearly break a tooth when the Cardinals come right out of the huddle to score again.
They miss the extra point, but it’s enough. The half ends at 13-7, Arizona in the lead, and we jog to the locker room to regroup.
We have fifteen minutes to get back on track. I’ve got to figure out a way to revive our motivation, help us see the win. We arrived here thinking it would be a piece of cake, but it has turned into a gauntlet.
Every team has been preparing for this moment. We all want that ring, and we’re all starting from the same point, stepping into the arena ready to fight to the end.
“Aw, shit,” Fonz groans loudly from where he sits on the bench.
“My sentiments exactly,” I concur before I realize he’s holding his phone.
In the weeks leading up to this day, I followed Baker’sadvice and took a complete social media break. I told Fonz to stop sending me articles, and he did.
“What are you looking at?” I ask.
He shakes his head, sitting up and shoving the device into his cubby. “You don’t want to know.”
Coach walks up to the front, and frustration twists in my chest. I glance around the room at my favorite players. Two of them are here because of me, and I’m not about to let them down.
Coach speaks first, pointing out our weak spots, reminding us what we’ve practiced, ordering us to tighten up. He lays out a game plan for the second half.
I’m still beside Fonz, who’s chewing on the side of his nail, and the only thing worse than his obvious consternation is not knowing the source. “Show it to me.”
His lips flatten into a straight line, and his black eyes are on me. Then he shakes his head slowly. “You told me not to.”
Against my better judgment, I press him. “What did she say?”
