Teen Ink

Your heart is pumping faster and faster. You look around the back field, and you know the football is coming to you. The score is 40 to 45, an exciting game so far. You can hear the few short seconds on the clock ticking down. Your team has to score on the next drive or the game is lost. You can see the blue jerseys of your team ready to collide with the opponents’ red ones. They are poised to bite your head off; you can hear snarls and roars aimed at you.

Anticipating the snap, waiting for the quarterback to finish his cadence – “Down, red 8, red 8.” Everything suddenly goes into slow motion, waiting to receive the pitch from the quarterback. You try to plan your first move, thinking, Will it be a spin to the inside or a juke to beat the outside linebacker?

Following your lead blocker, a player worthy of his position, you see he is blocking the first backer toward the outside. Quickly seeing that you predicted correctly and wasting no time, you juke to beat the outside linebacker ­inside. He grabs your leg. You cannot give up; this last play is worth everything. You feel his grip grow stronger. You hear heavy breathing from your left as the middle linebacker hustles to take you out. With fast reflexes you duck under his dive; he hits his own player, breaking you free.

There it is: the end zone. You have to make it, no matter what. Your strides become longer as you reach for the winning touchdown that seems so far away. Everything stops. You see the safety ripping the ground apart and coming at you with all he’s got.

Your ­only chance is for a miracle leap. You launch yourself into the air with no protection, ­only the dream of accomplishing your goal. Crack! You get hit perfectly on the side, causing you to somersault in mid-flight. The referee blows the whistle.

Feeling dazed from the tackle, you stand to see what has happened. Is the game over? Your teammates eagerly run up and tackle you to the ground, celebrating the game-winning touchdown that seemed to take an eternity.