“Score! Ram it up in there, Jay! It may look tight, but there is plenty of room.”
Those words echoed inside of his head as he lay at the bottom of the pile. Multiple hands gripped various parts of his body. He still held the smooth leather football tightly in his left arm pressed close to his ribs. He was at least two feet shy of the goalline. The horn blasted, ending the game, as he struggled to stand. The hands that had fiercely held him were now clapping, slapping, and pumping with vigorous exuberance.
Jay hung his head and walked back to his sideline, shoulders sagging and feet dragging.
‘Two feet short,’ he repeated to himself. ‘Coach should of called someone else’s number. Maybe we would have scored and won.’
The two teams met and shook hands. Hollow High had lost 14 to 20. It was a bitter loss for the Falcons. They now were out of playoff contention. The home crowd had watched their boys battle the district favorite, Elantra Panthers, to the closest game yet this season. The Panthers were ranked 6th in state.