| He watched in agony as the clock was ticking down. The crowd was on
its feet, stamping and shouting for their offence to get a touchdown. They needed
this win, even though it was the first game of the football season, it was their
archrivals from across the river. No one could stand to lose to them and right now
with less than 2 minutes left, they were behind 26 to 21.
It was third and 8 to go when Billy watched the defence flush their
QB out of the pocket. Gawd he is going to get creamed he thought and then he
watched as number 17 ran around and then heaved a pass far down field. He was on
his feet watching the ball arc downfield and there he was, their only white jersey
amidst a sea of black ones and somehow, he still couldn’t believe it, but he
caught the pass and Billy was cheering like a madman.
No way, no fucking way could anyone make that kind of catch but
number 85 had. Who the fuck was 85 this year? Hey it was some new transfer
student from LA and man did he have good hands, and look at him run. Billy was
standing on his seat, and cheering like a lunatic. His father was next to him and
if not for his age, maybe he would have been able to out yell his son.
What a sight it was as the whole stadium exploded as Number 85
stumbled across the goal line, a tackler hanging on his shirt tails. The whole
place was nuts as the team had done the impossible, which seemed to happen
regularly in high school football games.
His father was clapping some guy on his back; almost knocking him
down into the next row of seats he was so excited. Billy just jumped up and down
and hooted with the rest of his schoolmates. Most of them he knew already, he had
been sophomore class president and hopefully this year he could secure junior
class president but he did have some stiff competition.
The whole place was rolling as the extra point sailed through the
uprights and the scoreboard registered their 28 points for the home team.
The band was playing loudly some damn tune, but who could hear it as the noise of
cheering students drowned even them out. He’d have to find out who Number 85
was, maybe he could get him to endorse his candidacy, now that would certainly
help.
Shit, here he was at a high school football game and still his mind
was whirling on angles to push himself ahead of all the others. He wasn’t always
this way, shit only in the last three years or so had he become so absorbed.
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