The Big Time

CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT

TROY AND THE GEORGIA team were down by six and only twenty-seven seconds remained. It was third down and eight yards to go for a fresh set of downs. Troy took the snap from the shotgun position four yards behind the center and read the defense. The team's best receiver-a tall, skinny kid from Valdosta-had the coverage beat, but he slipped on the grass, and Troy immediately looked to his second receiver: the tight end running a post who hadn't been able to get free from the linebacker's jam.

Before Troy could get to his third read, the pocket collapsed around him and his instincts had to take over. Instead of running away from the surge of defenders, Troy stepped up toward them, ducking one, then dodging another, sharply aware of Nathan throwing himself in front of the noseguard to protect Troy's knees. Troy found the seam he was looking for: a narrow opening in the flurry of bodies. In that same instant Rusty Howell broke free down the sideline. Troy took one more step forward, knowing the middle linebacker, on a late blitz, would crack him in the face.

Troy launched the ball and took the shot, seeing stars before he hit the ground. The roar of Georgia fans, clad in red and black, raised him from the ground. His teammates swarmed him, moving as he did toward the goal line, slapping his shoulders, helmet, and back. Tate jogged out and nailed the extra point, then Troy, Tate, and Nathan watched alongside Seth as the Georgia kickoff team kept Florida pinned deep. Their defense stood strong. The clock wound down. The gun went off, and Nathan as well as Tate cackled wildly to Troy about their ten-thousand-dollar scholarship money.

Troy congratulated not just his best friends but the rest of his teammates. Seth gave Troy a hug, then pulled away at the sight of the approaching Georgia Bulldogs' head coach, Mark Richt. The two men shook hands and began to talk. Troy turned and met his mom and Gramps at the fence. They hugged him, too, and said they'd meet him in the tunnel, where only family with passes were allowed to go.

Troy changed into his street clothes and got to the tunnel as fast as he could. He stood waiting with the rest of his teammates, searching the crowd beyond the fence as, one by one, families were allowed into the separate area. In the swarm of arms and legs, banners and pom-poms, hats and grinning faces, Troy spotted a face that made his heart clench. He blinked and looked again.

The face was gone, and Troy had no idea if it had been a dream or not. He staggered toward the fence and gripped the cold metal mesh. Pressing his forehead into the wire, he strained to see it again. For what seemed like a lifetime, he looked. He only stopped when he felt his mom's hand on his shoulder and heard the warm, rough voice of his gramps. Troy stepped away, still looking, still wondering if the smiling, winking face had really been his father's.