Win it here.
We huddle, breathless, wired, everything on the line.
The call comes in.
I hear it. I know what’s about to happen.
Carter looks at me and nods once. “Go get it.”
I line up. The corner presses in, but I don’t let it faze me.
My heart slams against my ribs as I shift my weight forward, my muscles coiled tight, ready to explode.
The snap.
I go.
I break fast, cutting left then shifting hard to the right, shaking my man.
And then, I see it.
The ball.
Floating.
Perfect.
I run, my legs pushing harder than they ever have before, my eyes locked on the spiral coming straight for me.
I leap.
Fingertips graze leather.
I secure it.
Feet inbounds.
I have it.
For a split second, I think we won.
I don’t even see him coming.
CRACK.
Pain explodes in my head.
A blindside hit, full force, helmet to helmet, my body snapping back before I ever get the chance to react.
The stadium lights blur.
The noise vanishes.
My knees buckle.
Everything tilts?—
Then, nothing.
