The Peak

It was 7-6 with three minutes left in the first half.

It had been ten years since your team beat their bitter rival, not making for much of a rivalry, but this was the year.  You are the savior.  After more than two years of courting your courting return since your promising introduction, a broken heart lead you astray from your first love and into the open arms of the game you only teased.  With your long awaited embrace came the joyous reception of a resurrected messiah, and the much subtler response of resentment given to a welcomed false-prophet.

The former served to be true, with displays of magic and miracles all over the field in only your first public showing; although, the latter resurfaced with many hardships in your next contest, but you vowed to banish such play from the promise land for the rest of your brief career.

This game would be your judgment day though; in your eyes as well as the others’.

It is 3^rd and 6 from your rival’s 19-yard line on the left hash of the field, your team with the ball.  This is a critical play in the game going into the half.  Can you convert the first down and continue to move towards increasing your slim lead.  If you do not, what is the decision:  trying a 36-yard field goal with a mediocre high school kicker or going for it on 4^th down, both risking the event of failure and the powerful swing of momentum to the enemy’s side, with plenty of time to compound their victory with a score and move into position to win the war.

You call your favorite play in the huddle, and knowing that you will have one of your two favorite disciples open depending on one defender.  You break the huddle and march towards the battle line.  You scan the enemy formation and anticipate the ensuing battle; you know where to gash their weakness.  The offense gets set, the defense awaits.  You snap the ball, drop back into your sanctuary with hell rising around you, pan to the right and see your window to salvation.  Your receiver breaks to the outside 15 yards down field and you release the ball.  Defying the laws of gravity the ball pierces through the crisp autumn air, through the gap of three defenders, and into your teammate’s hands.  He proceeds into the end zone…

Despite being even-keeled for most of your sporting experience that spans an eighteen year old lifetime, this moment possesses you with competitive fury as you turn to your right and face the home stands and enemy sidelines and scream in victory, pounding your chest in sheer dominance.

You would go on to defeat your rival for the first time in a decade at the score of 14-6.

The most significant part of that day though was something that would not be realized until years down the road.  For someone who has spent their whole lives orbiting around sports, both as a participant and a spectator, this moment of athletic pride and jubilation will never be run through your veins, ever again… nor anything within 19 yards of it for that matter.