But one more time, I’ve got the ball and the game in my hands even though the game was over the moment I intercepted the ball. And even though itisover, their fastest guys are still chasing me, only they’re not catching me, and I’m going to end up running ninety-nine yards for the touchdown that makes the final score 41–30 for my team.
When I turn back around and see what looks like the entire Stallions team running for me, I see that old Dickie Nobles is leading the pack, like somehow he’s young again.
When he gets to me, he yanks off his helmet and pulls me into a bear hug and yells, “You were right, man! You wereright!”
I tip my own helmet back so he can see I’m just as happy about that as he is.
“What can I tell you,” I say. “Once a quarterback, always a quarterback.”
ONE HUNDRED FIFTEEN
TAYLOR AND I take it slow driving the pickup home from Birmingham.
We’d gone to the team party the night before, I hugged the championship trophy some, then Jake and EJ and Helene and Vince had come back to the rented house and we’d had our own celebration with pizza and beer.
Maybe we’d watched that last play a few more times.
At one point, I turn to Vince and raise my bottle to him and say, “Winning the big game never gets old.”
He toasts me back. “No, dawg,” he says, “it sure don’t.”
The next morning EJ flies to Richmond to visit a cousin she hasn’t seen in years. Jake and Helene drive to Raleigh to meet with the governor about his new assignment for them.
Taylor and I are about an hour out from Cross Rivers when Gus Blasingame, the Steelers coach, calls and gets right to it, wanting to know if I’m interested in coming to training camp next month.
“Not much doubt up here anymore that there’s probably a spot for you on our football team,” he says.
“I’ll have to think about that, Coach,” I say, “and thanks for the offer. But right now, I’ve already got a team.”
Les Hall has been watching Bumper while we’ve been away. When she hears the truck coming up the drive, she jumps up off the porch and comes running as if she wants to run right under one more car.
I park the car, and Taylor and I get out and walk toward my dog.
As we do, I reach for her hand and she lets me take it.
“We good?” she says, smiling up at me.
“Yeah,” I say. “Yeah, I do believe we are.”
There’s an old, ratty tennis ball at my feet. I pick it up without thinking and throw it toward the barn before Bumper chases after it.
Throw it pretty far.
“Whoa,” I say softly, knowing she hears the surprise in my voice because she’s Tay and doesn’t miss anything.
“What?”
“Even after that shot I took yesterday…”
“What?” Tay asks again.
“My arm felt pretty good,” I tell her.
THE END
