1 minute on the clock. 16 to 20. Our ball.
He hikes the ball, passes maybe 7 yards down the field. It’s caught, then immediately mauled by 5 Cardinals.
Another hike, another pass, another catch. Inching terribly slowly, we struggle against the supersonic ticking hand of fate ripping away at the life of the game.
Each catch is like a bomb going off in the stands. And then, a tense silence as the next play.
We make it down the long stretch of green, time terrorizing us with an abrupt ending.
16 seconds left, 10 yards left.
He hikes the ball.
Fakes left.
Sees an opening.
Throws the ball.
Almost.
Catches himself in time.
Runs a few yards to the right.
Lobs. The. Ball.
And then.
BOOM. touchdown.
The crowd explodes. And there is no silence this time. A thunderous roar becomes the stadium. Nobody is sitting anymore, just the thin strip of red lining the Cardinal’s section of the field staring in horror, hoping to wake up.
22, 20. Plus one makes 23. Bruins win. Blue versus Red and the blue comes out on top.
It was good. Amazing even. What now?
Oktoberfest. and beef.
Sometimes it’s just better to have been there...
