The Last Game

It was the last football game that I ever played in.

We had a chance to make the playoffs for the first time in a decade.

It was raining fiercely;

and our quarterback

couldn’t hold onto the ball.

He had two fumbles,

and four interceptions.

One of the worst games

a person could play.

I remember after the game was over–

after we lost by one touchdown–

the team circled in the end-zone,

to reflect on the game,

And this time,

the season.

He was on a knee,

this quarterback;

with his head as far down as it could get,

and his hands covering his eyes.

Tears squirted out between his fingers.

He was a mess.

He tried to hide it.

He tried not to make noise.

But he was gasping for breath,

like only the truly hurt do.

He had dreamt of being a pro football player,

but now,

His senior season,

and his football career,

had gone up in flames.

He had his senior pictures the next day,

and he couldn’t manage a smile.

Yes,

I remember him,

and that game,

with an incredible amount of clarity.

I can still feel it deep into my soul.

Because he was me,

And a part of him died that day.

It got buried underneath the grass,

in the south end-zone.

-C.H.