Fin shuffled his feet and passed the ball to wide receiver Ramel Patel who ran for seven positive yards.
In my ears, Pratt called for a draw play.
The ball was snapped. Fin looked as if he were going for a long pass. The defense took the bait. Fin handed the ball to fullback Treshawn Morgan and Morgan ran for five yards.
“Another Lexxx-ington Coopers first down.” The announcement once again brought the fans to their feet.
By the fourth quarter with Fin as QB, the score was 28–3.
After a four and out from the Colts, Pratt sent Simpson onto the field in Fin’s stead. I took a relieved breath, realizing that Fin was out of harm’s way. Like a well-oiled machine, Simpson marched our players down the field using as much clock as possible.
With less than two minutes in the final quarter, the Coopers were in the red zone, on their own four-yard line, second down and goal. The ball was snapped. Simpson shuffled backward, reading his progressions. The Colts were ready for a short play. Their nickelback broke through our offensive line, sacking Simpson.
My face contorted as Crystal Light stadium filled with gasps and flags flew. I looked up at the jumbotron. The defender hit Simpson before Cody’s back foot was planted. A collective groan filled the air at the replay showing Simpson’s ankle in an unnatural twist.
Our medical team and Coach Tilson ran out onto the field.
Simpson had his helmet off, sitting up, and holding his ankle. His expression was a combination of pain and anger.
“Time-out on the field,” the head official announced.
Through my earphones, I heard Pratt talking. A quick glance and I saw Fin standing at his side. “…putting you back in. Tempers are hot out there. Take it easy. We can settle for a field goal.”
The fans and players cheered as Simpson waved from a stretcher and was taken off the field.
“After review,” the official said, “there’s no penalty. The sack resulted in a six-yard loss. The ball is on the Coopers’ ten-yard line. It’s third and goal.”
Our offense huddled. Once on the field, they lined up in split formation. The ball was snapped. Fin handed off the ball to Morgan. Morgan tossed it back to Fin who threw it to JD, wide open in the end zone.
Flea flicker.
“Touchdown, Coopers.”
After the fireworks and extra point, our punting team sent the ball deep into Coopers’ territory. The score was now 35–3. Coach Brown told the defense not to let up. He also said it wasn’t the time for heroics.
The Colts made one first down and threw a Hail Mary pass. Cornerback Malik Johnson read the pass and intercepted the ball. Coopers’ ball. Fin only needed to take a knee and the clock was out.
Coopers won.
After congratulating our team as they entered the locker room, I made my pilgrimage to the family suite. While facing everyone up there left a sour taste in my mouth, I felt I owed my presence to Dad. I was the owner of the Coopers and wouldn’t let a few members of my family keep me from seeing those I cared for.
A member of the Coopers’ security team escorted me to and up the private elevator. The security guard stationed by the door opened the family suite without asking for my name. I guessed that’s what happened when the whole world was getting used to seeing me on the sideline.
“Vee,” Leigh called as I entered. “How is Simpson?”
“Broken ankle.”
Leigh wrinkled her nose. “Ouch. Out for the rest of the season.”
“I haven’t heard the final word. It depends on how severe of a break. Coach Pratt suggested anywhere from six to twelve weeks.”
“How’s Simpson?” Uncle Darin asked, joining our conversation.
“Ankle’s broken,” I said again. I turned to Grant, sitting at the bar and looking in our direction. “I guess it’s a good thing we kept both backups.”
He lifted his glass in a cheers motion and took a drink. The amber liquid meant my cousin wasn’t in the mood for conversation.
I turned to Leigh. “Who peed in Grant’s Cheerios?”
