Running The Miles

Chapter 7

        I missed my highschool football game. The first game of the season. I was so pissed when I finally made it to the field and realized that the final scores were already on the board. My college team had won after my winning goal kick, and it seems that my ghighschool team has won without me as well, but with not a big lead. 

        When they all saw me, I slowly walked towards them, panting, sweaty, ashamed, and embarrased. The deal was that I was supposed to make it to every single football game. Today was not a good day, because the highschool game was pushed back because of rain on Saturday, so I went to the college game, I also had the highschool game, but by the time I made it to the field, the game had already started, and I was screwed. I could've asked the coach if I could leave, but they needed me.

        The team seemed indifferent for my absense. I guess they won, so they're happy. If they'd lost, I don't know what would've happened. "Don't sweat it, today was pretty screwed up anyway," said one of the players with a smile. I guess my distress was pretty obvious. 

        Coach seemed the same way. "Yeah, kiddo, don't sweat it, but if you miss the next game, I'll have to make you run tripple your laps," he said, punching me playfully in the arm, but I think there was an edge of seriousness too. 

        Instead of staying around for the celebration at the pizza parlor, I jogged back home, not wanting to celebrate a win that wasn't mine to celebrate.

        

        The next day of school, Monday, throughout the school, students and faculty were congradulating the football players for their win. In this area, football is a big deal, like for every game the entire school participates in the crowds. Several people asked where I was, and I told them the truth, I was playing at the college. 

        Some accepted it and moved on, others gave me the look as if I betrayed them, which in a way, I did. Today's practice was going to be on of many. The college's practices have started to vary in the days. So sometimes I have two practices, sometimes I have one. But no matter what, every single day I have some sort of football related work to attend to.

        My grades are still straight-A's, so I still have my Mom's approval with the busy schedule. One slip, one bad grade, one B, and I no longer did college football. My mom would start to think that it was too much for me to handle, with school and all. I've been getting straight A's sense forever, she doesn't want me to end it now.

        Practice today was usual. Drills, warm-ups, practice throws, scrimmage, etc. There was also the game tomorrow, which will not be interfered by a college game, so I would be able to attend. I was mostly anxious to be able to see how we play as a team against other players. 

        When we were fully geared and we were prepared to enter the field, we did our team cheer for the Cougars, hooting and hollering, and we entered the field, coach in tow. When we entered the field, the crowd cheered. People from out school were dressed in brown and green colors, some with their faces painted. 

        Soon after, the other team came out, their colors of white and red showing throughout the stadium and on their jersey's. My number in my old school was 12, now I wear the number 14. It's been a coincidence throught my football teams. First it was 4, 6, 8, 10, 12, now 14. Weird, but luck. 

        I took position as quarterback, the whistle blew and then the game began. When I play in a game. It becomes a zone of concentration. I recieve the ball, and then I find a person who has the ability to take it all the way, or the furthest. That's my specialty, that's why I'm always quarterback, because I always am able to throw an able touchdown throw. 

        When I play, I don't hear anything. When people say that time slows down, that's pure bullshit for dramatic effect. When I play, it was full on speed, fast forward. I receieve, I quickly look for a throw, and then I let the ball fly, and then the person catches it, they turn, they run, and they score. 

        For my first game of the season with my highschoole, we won with a score of 48-3. 

        And this time, I attended the celebration with the rest of my team.