Lacin' up the Cleats

“Number 13 passes the ball to Number 34. Number 34 runs the ball and gets side tackled by Number 56 from the opposite team! And there’s the whistle; it’s half-time! Remember to go see the concessions stand tonight. They have lots of food hot and ready for you to eat!” The announcer was louder than normal tonight, it seemed.

“Good tackle, Robbie!” You high-fived Number 56, Robbie, who just side tackled that runner. He smiled and hit you on the back while you two went and knelt down while Coach gave some more pointers.

“Alright y’all got that? Fourth quarter, we’re going to try a few new plays on the Pans-Oh no, I mean the Gatsby’s not the Pansy’s.” Coach smiled, creating a response of laughter from the team.

Third quarter started.
At the beginning the score was relatively even.
Seven to six, Gatsby’s were winning, but only by a point.
By the end of the quarter they were winning by six.

Coach angrily called for a time-out. “What are y’all doing?! If you lose this one, y’all can’t go to the playoffs? Do y’all want that?”

A few people muttered ‘No’s’.

Coach rolled her eyes and hollered, “I said, ‘Do y’all want that?’”
That caused most to holler a ‘No’ back.

“Then get in the game and stop fooling around! Alright, remember we’re trying ‘The Flight’ play. I want Adam, Christina, and Riley as the wide receivers this time. Y’all better be watching for that ball!” Coach muttered that last sentence.

The Referee whistled, ending the time-out.

Your team ran out onto the field. You positioned yourself, leaned down to get a good start, and waited for the numbers to be called.

You heard the numbers, the hut and you were gone. You managed to fit through a crack in their defensive line. You turned your head fast; the ball was coming at you. You heard something in front of you but you kept your eyes on the ball.

A second early, the person in front of you jumped. You jumped a second later. Four hands reaching for the ball; two dropped away sooner leaving it wide open for the other two hands which took the opportunity to grab the ball.

You spun your head back looking for the other player. He had slipped past you but was skidding to a halt and coming right back at you.

As soon as your feet touched the ground, you were off.
Feet pounding, you could hear the other player’s labored breathing behind you.

You felt oddly calm even though everything seemed to slow down. Your breathing seemed to take even longer to inhale; your legs couldn’t move fast enough. You could hear faint cheering but one rose above the rest, “Go Rileyyyy!”

You shook your head and concentrated.

40 feet to go.
Your legs were on fire. You stumbled, but caught yourself. You lost some ground on the opposing team.
30 feet to go.
Your lungs were on fire. Your breath coming in short gasps.
20 feet to go.
You could almost feel him reaching out to grab you.
10 feet to go.
You feel hands grasp but gaining no purchase on you. His hands slid uselessly off of you.
5 feet to go.
He managed to grab your feet.

Your body pitched forward … into the end zone.

“The Virginia Privateers has just raced to the end zone, closing the gap to a one point difference. Number 7, Riley James, managed to run faster than Number 98, Belton John, scoring the touchdown!” The announcer louder than normal once again.

You trotted off the field, other members of your team hitting your helmet, high fiving you, or slapping you on the back and butt. You were grinning the entire time.

As you panted on the sidelines, your team managed to get a safety in the last minute of the game causing your team to win the game.

You slapped the other team’s hands saying ‘good game’ to each and every one even though they would only mumble a response back.

On the sidelines, your mom gave you a huge hug and said she’ll meet you at home.
Your Coach told you, you did a great job. Other members of your team continued to just hit you randomly.

You were walking to your car, helmet and gear in one hand.
You were shoving it all inside it when your heard a, “That was an amazing run.”

You turned to see little Frankie and Joe.
You grinned, “Thanks! I wasn’t sure if I was going to make it or not.”

“Can I give you a hug?” Frankie asked.
You laughed, “Only if you don’t mind me being smelly and sweaty!”

Frankie laughed and hugged you.

“I got to get him home. I’ll text you later!” Joe smiled and turned, hand in hand with Frankie.

As you were getting into your car you heard, “You’re right, she does smell nice no matter if she is sweaty or not.”

Laughing, you got in and drove home.
Upon your arrival at home, your mom had your favorite meal spread out.
It was lasagna! And your family’s secret recipe kind, too! It always won any and all best pasta contests.

The rest of the week you had school and football practice afterward.

Occasionally, you’d go out to the football field and practice with the boys and they’d allow you after that amazing run you did last game. Afterward, you’d always see Joe and he’d walk you back to your home.

On one such walk, you were teasing him. “So what kind of a video would require you getting your little brother to run into a metal trashcan…?”

“Oh … you were inside for that?” He grimaced at the memory.
You grinned, “Yeah, you are a horrible brother, I must say.”
“Oh and you think you could do better?” He narrowed his eyes, smiling all the same.

“Much better than you would! Maybe I should give you some advice, Oh poor older brother!” You added.
“Laughing stock more like.” He laughed.
“What do your brothers do with you?” You raised an eyebrow.
“Just think of me as DJ Danger.” He suddenly said, “Oh speaking of ‘DJ’ my brother is having a party this weekend and he wants to meet you, so you, m’dear, are invited!”

“Oh, cool! What kind of a party is it?” You asked.
“Well, dress up some. It’s not like all formal but it’s going to be semi-formal so where a dress I guess.” He guessed.

“Well you sure know what you are supposed to!” You laughed. You both had just reached your driveway. “I’ll see ya tomorrow!”

“But how will I know it’s you?” He pretended.
“I’ll be the one mowing your yard.” You winked and stepped into your house.

“Who was that, dear?” You mom called.
“One of the neighbor’s boys.” You called back.

You heard a chair creak, footsteps, and your mom appeared. “Which neighbor?”
“The one with the gatehouse! His name is Joe. He has a four other brothers: two younger, one older. I was just invited to the older one’s party.” You sighed.

“Well alright then. I’d like to meet his parents though!” She called after you as you went upstairs.

You closed your bedroom door, did your homework, showered, and went to bed.

You woke up suddenly to Shake It by Metro Station. You checked your phone and you had a new text from Kirsty saying, “Hey! We can go to the concert this weekend instead! It’s on Saturday! D’ya think your mom will mind?”

You texted back, “I’ll talk to her tomorrow, I’m too tired tonight.”
You shut off your phone and drifted into sleep again.

You didn’t realize that Joe’s brother’s party was going to be on Saturday.