Rowlings ran through his progression right to left then let it rip. Their tight end caught the ball near the thirty-five-yard line and ran an additional eight yards.
Like two kids, Vee and I jumped up and down.
She looked up at the clock. “That play only took eleven seconds off the clock. They’ve got time.”
“They need a touchdown.”
Vee laid her mitten glove on my arm as Zane again snapped the ball. This time Rowlings shovel passed to his fullback. Zigzagging through the defense, the fullback got another first down. The clock stopped again.
With seventeen seconds left in regulation, the Vikings were first and ten at the twenty-three-yard line. The play clock was running down as the Bears’ fans screamed.
“Fuck,” I growled.
Flags flew.
The decibels coming from the Bears’ fans was deafening. From experience, I knew this was one of the stadiums where the noise added to an inability to hear on the field that led to mistakes.
Delay of game.
Vikings were penalized five yards.
That penalty put them with first and fifteen at the thirty-three-yard line. Vee and I stared at each other, both knowing that this was the last play of the game.
Rowlings lined up under center, close behind Zane. The ball was snapped. I held my breath as Rowlings stepped back. Grimacing, we watched as the defense swarmed the quarterback.
“Oh my God,” I screamed.
After Zane snapped the ball, Rowlings handed it back to Zane in a lateral. While the defense swarmed the QB, Zane threw a perfect spiral to the Vikings wide receiver who ran into the end zone.
“That’s my brother,” I screamed. “He played quarterback in college.”
Soldier Field filled with boos at the Vikings’ use of a trick play.
Vee’s smile was ear to ear. “I told you they had a chance.”
The score was tied.
The Bears coach threw a challenge flag.
Vee looked at me with wide eyes.
“The Vikings had to report Zane as an eligible receiver. If they didn’t, that last play is no good.”
The referee’s voice came over the sound system. “After review, the call of the field of touchdown is confirmed. Prior to the play, Graham No. 53 declared as an eligible receiver. The pass was a lateral behind the line of scrimmage. The call on the field stands.”
The stadium that had been deafening was now staring in stunned silence.
Vee and I held hands as the Vikings’ field goal team went onto the field. Again, I held my breath. The Bears’ special team tried to block, but the kick was good.
“They won,” Vee screamed.
Vikings by one.
Because this had been an away game for the Vikings, the team was headed back to Minnesota, and we couldn’t arrange to meet with Zane for more than a few words outside the locker room. Vee pulled a few strings. Being a player and owner, we were able to get where other fans couldn’t.
Vee and I took an Uber downtown. The vast number of people milling around the sidewalks provided the anonymity I promised Vee. In plain sight while also hidden in the crowds, we ate deep-dish pizza and drank beers before catching a ride to the airport. An hour and a half after wheels up, we landed back in Lexington. As we both climbed into bed Sunday night, Vee cuddled closely beneath the covers.
“When you first asked if I’d go with you to Chicago, I was hesitant.”
