Friday, December 11, 2009

Snippet

I never got to run the ball. Only when our team was up by a huge margin was the play called for me. And when I did step in, I took my place under center as the backup quarterback and ran the same play over and over and over: QB Sneak. To be honest, I loved running the sneak, as I would always gain 3 or 4 yards a carry. I would just follow the big boys up on the line, get a few yards, get tackled, get up, and do it again.
We were playing the Dolphins, our archrival. My team, the Raiders, and the Dolphins were far and away the best two teams in our league. They had beaten us the first time we played, and we wanted revenge. With less than two minutes to go, we led them 27-14. Our star running back Sean Collins had been a beast that day, but now we needed to put them away. With their explosive, quick-strike offense, we knew we needed one more first down to seal the victory. With our backup backfield in the game (we had been up three touchdowns, at which point, a backup backfield needed to be inserted) Three times in a row, we had run the QB Sneak, and we were left with Fourth and Two. We went back to the huddle.
I always gave my coach suggestions on what play to run next. I would be the first one back to the huddle, and would say “Quad Right Sweep” or some other play from our playbook. And a lot of times, he would listen. So, I walked back and said “Sneak” to Coach Les. Coach Les looked at me, turned to the team when they got to the huddle, and called “Quarterback Sweep”. I was dumbfounded. Not that he had called a different play, that didn’t matter. I was surprised because I didn’t think I had the speed to get the outside and pick up the first down and seal the victory. I walked up to the line, heart pounding mile a minute. I gazed over Brandon Rowe and Brandon Dorsey, friends of mine that were defensive backs on the side of the field I was running to.
“Down…, Set…, HUT”, I yelled. As I took the snap, I ran to my left. Running as fast as my legs could carry me, I turned the corner around my tight end. Running forward I saw Rowe and Dorsey beginning to converge on me. I thought I might be able to get the clinching first down anyway, so I ran straight ahead. All of a sudden, I heard a BAM! sound ahead of me. Turning my head slightly to the right, I saw Rowe and Dorsey on the ground, having crashed into one another. To my complete astonishment, I saw plenty of green grass ahead of me on that Wauconda High School field, and I just put my head down and kept running until they brought me down. When I finally had been brought down, the game had been sealed. A 17 yard run for the first down was the longest run of my football career. Popping up from my run, I pumped my fist in celebration, a move emulated from Tiger Woods.
We lined up a few more times to take a knee, and eventually the clock struck all zeros, and we ran onto the field to celebrate our win: Raiders 27, Dolphins 14. I ribbed Rowe and Dorsey after the game about crashing into each other, and they laughed along. The greatest moment of my football career came on a play I didn’t even want to be called.