Page 207 of Made Better Together

(February 6). This is it, Orlando fans. The Waves won the Conference Championship yesterday, 31–21, and have officially earned their second Super Bowl bid in three years.

The game will take place next weekend in New Orleans, with the Waves facing the equally strong Washington team.

“You only get so many chances,” Head Coach Rich Houston said in his press conference yesterday. “Whoever takes best advantage of their opportunities will come out the winner.”

In their two playoff wins leading to this moment, the Waves proved they’re strong on both sides of the ball, offense and defense. Johnson Samuels is putting up numbers equal to the great quarterbacks of the game, while the defense has seemed unfazed by the schemes of their two previous opponents.

Nowhere is that more notable than in the stats of the Battle brothers—Landon Battle, the sack leader for the Waves; Rawley Battle, the reception leader; and Connor Battle, who has made all of his field goal attempts.

“I don’t know what they fed those boys in Alabama.” Coach Houston chuckled at the mic. “But I’m sure grateful.”

All of Orlando will be tuned in to nothing else next Sunday. Let’s go Waves!

58

CONNOR

SIX DAYS AND FIFTEEN HOURS LATER

“Touchdown, Waves,” the announcer echoes across the stadium.

“Battle, let’s go,” Del says to me as I prep to run on the field.

The pressure is on. Johnson completed a seventeen-yard pass to Bailey, who sprinted into the end zone to get the touchdown.

Leaving the game tied 20–20 with forty-five seconds left to play.

If I make this extra-point kick, we’ll be up by one, with barely enough time for Washington to attempt a response.

This is it, I think as I approach my starting position on the field. The Waves’ first Super Bowl is on my foot…

Just like Del’s been saying in our kicking team meetings, I refuse to lose us this game.

Not exactly the kind of thought to keep nerves at bay, but I secretly say a thank you to the football gods that this is a short extra-point kick and not a field goal.

Still, missing isn’t an option.

The crowd is going insane around the stadium, prompted not only by the critical moment but also by totally hyped music.

I shut the noises out, as I’ve done countless times over the last few years, and focus on that mission: getting the ball through those uprights.

The call of “HUT” triggers my body, and a second later, the contact is done. The Super Bowl in the balance…

The ball flying, flying, flying…

Until it goes right through the uprights.

I fucking did it.

“The Waves’ kick is good. They now lead by a score of twenty-one to twenty,” calls the announcer.

Ernie and the linemen crowd around me, banging on my helmet. “Fucking yes,” one of them shouts.

We jog back over to the sidelines, where the offensive guys are giddy. They’re almost certainly done for the day. It’s now up to the special teams crew to limit the damage of the punt return.

Rawley squeezes his arms around me as we watch the Washington returner catch the punt with bated breath. He manages to get it out of bounds after a twenty-two-yard run, stopping the clock at three seconds to go.

It’s a statistically unlikely spot for Washington to get a touchdown, but we need to make sure they’re not in a position to kick a field goal either. Keeping them this far away from the uprights, or having the last seconds run out—either method will work.