It was a chilly September evening back in 2006. Desperation hung in the air as Desert Ridge High’s football aspirations were down by one touchdown with their homecoming foe, Carl Hayden, milking time off the clock, their offense still on the field.
Three friends, Marty, Gene, and Drake were one of the many fans who were witnessing the inevitable defeat that Homecoming Night. Drake was furiously biting his nails; Gene was close to tears ‘cause, well… ‘cause he’s soft like that, and Marty, well, not quite sure what he was doing, but one could be pretty sure it had something to do with being nervous about the game.
Carl Hayden was on the verge of taking their final snap. As number 13, the quarterback, went behind center, the urgency that gnawed on Gene took a toll. He decided to take one for the team, the school. In a frantic bid for a distraction, when the ball was snapped he shouted at the top of his lungs, “Number 13,…….I LOVE YOU!!!”
Startled, number 13 stopped his back stepping. That gave a quick defensive lineman on the Desert Ridge squad a chance to sack him. At that moment a miracle happened, the type of miracle that would be comparable to rain turning into wine, having a 2.9 GPA then managing to get a full ride to Princeton, or having your girlfriend’s uterus disappear for one night (I only jest). The ball popped loose! FUMBLE! An observant cornerback snatched the ball, clutching it like it was the Holy Child himself and every Carl Hayden uniform was one of Herod’s men. He stepped up the gas and rushed to the end zone with all his might. As he crossed into that blessed rectangle of glory a loud, cohesive cheer filled the red and black faithful.
All was well in east Mesa.
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