Recovered Fumble by Baylin Crow

Author:Baylin Crow [Crow, Baylin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-12-02T18:30:00+00:00

The final quarter wound down as I sat in the stands with Tristan on one side of me and my parents on the other. We were decked out in Saints shirts, along with most of the fans sitting in our section. Even Tristan had opted to show some team spirit. Of course our t-shirts were mostly black so he gave them a big thumbs up.

Among the sea of black and gold attire, small sections were peppered with bright red and white, the Hawks colors.

With almost no breeze on the hot and humid day, we were roasting in the sun with no relief. But, for the most part, the gathered crowd was so caught up in the game that they didn’t seem to mind.

The smells of hot dogs and nachos hung heavy in the air making my stomach growl. With plans to go out to eat after the game, I checked the scoreboard. The two-minute warning had been announced what felt like ages ago, but since both teams still possessed all three timeouts for the half, two minutes of playing time stretched much longer.

Our offense was on the field and I spotted my brother’s and Nash’s numbers lined up together on the same side of the field. They each faced opponents who rivaled their size and build.

Though I wasn’t a major fan of the game, having a high school and college hot-shot football player as a brother, I knew more than I honestly cared to.

The details from seeing the game live on TV were missing from so far away, but there was something special about being there in the crowd as the Saints took over the game, leading by fourteen points.

The atmosphere was electric. Spectators screamed out for just about every call on any play, but my focus was on Nash. Throughout the game, I’d traced every one of his movements—his toned, long legs that carried him down the field, the way the muscles in his arms and calves flexed, and the formidable way he broke through tackles and stiff-armed the guys trying to take him down.

Nash had already claimed two touchdowns, my brother one, and the stout running back had barreled his way into the end zone twice.

I had to admit I was more into this game than any I’d previously attended.

“Am I the only one getting hot and bothered?” Tristan waved his hand over his face when I glanced at him. He must have completely reversed his position on jocks because he couldn’t seem to get enough of them.

“The only thing I’m getting is possible heatstroke.” There was no way I was admitting that I was seeing the sport in a new light now that I was intimately familiar with what lay beneath the jersey and pads of number thirty-four.

“Told ya you were boring.”

“Sweating my butt off because of the crazy heat is boring?” I shielded my eyes from the sun with my hand when Memphis called for the ball and stepped back into the pocket, surrounded by players shielding him to the best of their ability.

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