Only for a Moment
Three, two, one the final whistle blows and the legacy is complete. We storm the field like the ancient Spartans going into battle. My heart is pumping uncontrollably and I feel as though I am floating. As the crowd roars I notice the pandemonium all around me and my team. The announcer shouts into his microphone over and over, “11-0!” “11-0!”. News cameras flood onto the field trying to catch a glimpse of their hometown hero’s. Fans are no longer held back by the barricades surrounding our battlefield and immediately rush down from the bleachers. I try to pace myself and take it all in but I am so overwhelmed by what is happening I am unable to contain my emotion. Tears begin to run down my cheek. Just as this happens I feel a strong tug on the back of my shoulder pads spinning me around. It is my best friend and Co-captain Ethan pulling me in to celebrate with him. “We did it kid, we did it!” he shouted to me. I simply replied with a smile. We then line up to shake hands with our opponents. I can only imagine how they are feeling after coming so far and working so hard only to lose by twenty points. They are our bitter rival however so this feeling only lasts for a moment. Both teams have tears down their faces but for very different reasons. I am so overcome with a feeling of accomplishment and success. We have done what has never been done before in Apponequet High School history, have an undefeated season. We are now part of history. All these thoughts running through my mind, but at the same time I can’t help but think that this means we only have one game left together as seniors. I feel a sudden sadness, but only for a moment because I am then swarmed by local reporters. “How does it feel? What’s next for you? Describe your emotions? What were you thinking when you made that tackle?”. So many questions and so many answers, I take my time, gain back my composure and politely reply to their questions. When the reporters and writers are finally out of breath, I rejoin my team who is still celebrating on the field with family and friends. My head coach told reporters “It’s a great feeling, a perfect feeling; we said we were going to go undefeated and we did, I want these kids to go home and enjoy the day and take it all in”. Every practice I listened to my coach, so why should today be any different? Home I go, to eat some turkey with my family.
December 2, 2008. Three, two, one the final whistle blows and I feel a sharp pain in my chest. “They did it!” “They will advance to the Division 2A championship game at Gillette Stadium on Saturday December 6th!” This time however my teammates are on the other side looking in. I glance up to the announcer’s booth upon the announcement and can’t believe my ears. I am in total disbelief. The scoreboard reads “Duxbury 31, Apponequet 13”. I stare into the bleachers and see a flood of sadness and disappointment hit the crowd. A look I haven’t seen on my fans faces since junior year when we lost four games. A single tear runs down my face. This tear is different. A tear I haven’t felt all year. We have been defeated. I look around and I see carnage everywhere. Eighteen year old men on their knees crying. Like a fierce battle between titans, one stands tall and one has fallen. I lift my facemask which was covered in grass, blood, spit and sweat and I vomit. It feels as though I have just been hit in the belly with a sledgehammer. Another convulsion followed by another and another. I feel a strong tug on my shoulder pads slowly lifting me to my feet. Much like the one I received on Thanksgiving when we were celebrating. This tug however had a much different meaning this time. It was number 52, Ethan. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t need to. He just looked me in the face and pointed to the “C” on my chest. He then said “Evan, you and I are captains, it’s time to lead our team.” I knew exactly what he was talking about. He was referring to the traditional end of the game hand shake between opponents. I grabbed my helmet which was covered in stickers, each one symbolizing a different accomplishment, and headed to mid-field. With Ethan in front of me and a fellow senior starter, Jack, behind me, we started to walk. Hand after hand I looked every Dragon in the face and uttered under my breath, “good game.” Deep down I am happy for them but only for a moment as the anger and sadness engulf the brief congratulatory feeling. Were done with the hand-shakes and emptiness takes over. A gap has now been created deep inside me. As I walk to the north end zone, I am approached by the Duxbury head coach. “Good game son, you were a monster out there, you are a hell of a player…keep your head up.” I just nod my head holding back tears with every movement. I turn my back and rejoin my team. As I approach the huddle I hear my coach yell “Waiting on you Captain!” I was a little bit annoyed that he was yelling orders at me after I just gave everything I have for forty minutes, but only for a moment. I jog over with what little energy I have left and take a knee. “Well this sucks…I know how you guys are feeling right now and I know it sucks. They were bigger than us, faster than us, and older than us. We worked our asses off boys. They were just better. But remember this, you guys did what no other team in Apponequet history has ever done and you will be remembered forever.” My head coach said to us. He then looked at me and asked if there was anything I wanted to say. I look up at him and reply “Wars come and go, but my soldiers stay eternal, I will never forget these Friday night lights.” With that we break, and migrate to the bus that will take us home.
