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My dad wrapped an arm around my shoulder. Hawk had the ball. I took a peak through my fingers just as he threw a sharp spiral into the end zone.
We jumped up and down in the box. “Yes!”
The game was tied, but now the ball went back to the other team. If they scored on this drive, we might not have a chance to get the ball back in time.
Hunter was wringing his hands and his feet shuffled back and forth under his recliner. Poor thing. I wished there was something more I could do. We were all on edge. This must be what football families went through every Sunday. Winning was fun. Losing was painful.
I don’t know how it happened but the Badgers couldn’t make it past the third down. They had to punt on fourth down and the Sharks ended up with just over a minute on the clock and the ball on the forty-yard line.
“Come on, Kane. Come on,” Hunter coaxed. His little face was scrunched up in concentration.
I echoed the same words. “Come on. Come on.”
The ball was snapped. I gripped the edge of my seat. Hawk took three steps backward and then he was pummeled to the ground in a vicious tackle.
“Oh my God.”
He bounced up, cursing at the guy who had rushed him.
It was now second down.
The time was ticking off the clock and I felt a ravenous desperation in my veins. He had to do this. He had to find a way to get the ball in the end zone.
Suddenly he had the ball in his hands. Instead of stepping back into his usual drop count, he ran forward and slid to get the first down.
Air gushed from my lungs. I looked at the jumbotron. There were forty-five seconds left and I wasn’t sure I would survive it.
Hawk looked calm. I saw the intensity in his eyes when the camera zoomed in on his face. He was determined and certain.
The whistle blew for the play and Hawk handed the ball off to one of the running backs. There were only thirty seconds left when he ran seven yards.
The Sharks called time out.
I didn’t know how Hawk handled this. How he was made to shield himself from the pressure. But he did. He was cool and calculated out there. I bit my lip. Honestly, it was hot as hell how he commanded that team. How he led them. How he took control.
And then somehow I let go of my worries. I knew this man more intimately than the thousands of people in the stadium. I trusted him with my body. My life. This child. I knew the game was in the hands of the man who could deliver.
I let the calm wash over me as he moved toward the line of scrimmage.
The ball was snapped. Hawk dropped back and the ball soared over the field. There was laser precision to his aim. It was amazing how he found a receiver in that sea of bodies. But he did. When no one else saw it. He did.
I clapped wildly when the ball landed in his receiver’s arms in the end zone.
“Did we win?” Hunter asked, excitedly.
“Yes!” I jumped up and down. “We did, honey. We sure did.”
My dad hugged me and Pops dished out high fives to all of us.
“I knew he could do it.” Hunter grinned. “I knew it.”
I smiled down at him. “Me too.”
“What about this one?” Hawk held out a wobbly spruce.
Hunter and I shook it off. “No, not that one.”
I pulled the plaid scarf closer to me. It almost made me tingle now every time I wore it. It had a completely different memory in my fashion memory bank. Maybe we could use it again in tonight’s game celebration.
