There I was, quarterbacking my high school team in the fall of 75, undefeated record on the line in this final game of the season. Down by six on the visitor’s 45 with three seconds on the clock, we huddled.
“A Hail Mary is our only chance!” Tubby Miller exclaimed, his pudgy face dripping sweat despite the chill November air.
“What, are you f**king crazy?” I darn near shouted, absolute shock registering on my face.
My query met a chorus of resistance from the other guys.
“OK.. If you say so,” I replied, rolling my eyes. I knelt in prayer, clasped my hands and began: “Hail Mary, full of grace—“
My prayer was interrupted by the harsh tweet of the referee’s whistle. Flagged for delay of game, we ended up losing.
BILL
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