She squeals and holds it out for me while I place a few wings on my plate. I take a tiny nibble and try to keep the irritation off my face. It’s not her fault I’m green with jealousy. “These are delicious. Thank you.”
Hazel skips around the living room, and I have to admit that while Cadence gets on my nerves with her perfect apron and perfect hair and perfect chicken wings, I don’t remember seeing Hazel this happy. That’s the most important thing, I remind myself.
The third quarter starts, and I scoot to the edge of my seat. I really hope Nick can pull this off.
The whistle blows on the screen, and I lean to the side so I can see around Cadence. “Ugh, poor Nick. He just got sacked.”
Cadence sets the platter down. “What does that mean? Sorry, I don’t know much about football.”
I spend the next ten minutes explaining the basics and then I return to the play that kicked off this conversation. “So right now, they’re blitzing, meaning extra guys are rushing the quarterback, and that’s why Nick got sacked once.”
Yikes. Make that twice.
I hold my breath as I watch him slowly stand. Thank God he’s okay.
Hazel is busy munching on her wings, which is good because I don’t want her worried about her dad.
The game is tied again, and the temptation to gnaw off my new manicure is strong. “Northwestern keeps ramping up the defense. Nick’s getting frustrated. I don’t blame him.”
“Why doesn’t he just throw the ball?” Cadence asks, sitting down on the arm of the couch.
“Sometimes that’s easier said than done. He doesn’t have a lot of time after the snap to get the ball off. Add five or six huge guys gunning for him, and he probably feels that pressure. A bad throw might mean a turnover. I don’t blame him for wanting to be careful.” Although there were a few options he either didn’t see or didn’t think he could make, but I don’t say that out loud.
It’s fourth and twenty, so the Broncos kick. Northwestern catches the ball at the ten and runs it thirty yards. On the next play, the offense does a spectacular job blocking for the quarterback, who fakes a pass but then bolts downfield for another thirty yards. He has two guys running interference for him the whole way.
I stand and shout, “Come on! Tackle his ass!” Ugh, touchdown.
Hazel looks up. “You said a naughty wowd.”
Shit. “I’m sorry. Football makes me forget myself.”
Baylee giggles. “I had no idea you were such a fanatic.”
I’m feverish. Sweaty. My hands are clammy and my heart is racing. Those wings are fighting their way back up my stomach.
Oh, God. When did this happen to me?
I know this feeling all too well. Dread swirls in my belly, and not just because we might lose the game.
By the time we reach the fourth quarter, I’m growling and yelling at the TV. “I can’t watch this anymore.” I flop backwards on the couch and cover my face, but as soon as the timeout ends, I’m at the edge of my seat again. “Come on, Nick. Trust your offense. Dax is open downfield more often than not, you’re just not seeing it. You have to make some long plays to spread the defense more. That’ll get them off your back.”
Northwestern has the ball, and they’re driving the field, but a receiver bobbles it, and a quick Bronco knocks the ball away. They fight for it, running and tumbling until Lone Star State comes up with the ball.
“Yes!” We’re all cheering and yelling.
Baylee and I hold hands as Nick takes the field with the offense. “You got this, Nick!” I don’t know why I’m shouting at the TV. It’s not like the man can hear me, but I like sending him good vibes.
It’s fourth and sixteen at the Broncos’ thirty-five-yard line. When the ball snaps, the O-line keeps the defenders at bay long enough for Nick to spot Dax downfield. He’s under fire. Dax has two guys hot on his heels as Nick scrambles out of the pocket to try to get the throw off.
“Throw it!” I shout. There’s only thirty-five seconds left.
Nick reaches back and releases it. The ball sails through the air in what has to be a forty-five-yard pass.
“Oh my God! Oh my God!” Baylee yells.
One of the defenders gets his hands on the ball but can’t hold on, and Dax snags it. “Yes!”
We’re all jumping and screaming as he runs it into the end zone for the win.
