Monday, October 3, 2011

A Piece of Flash Fiction Starring Our Pal, Ray Box

Fat Chance

It was 4th and goal from his opponents 5 with only 1 second left on the clock. Rookie quarterback, Ray Box, had successfully driven the Falcons down the field and needed to get this play into the end zone in order to win the Super Bowl.
This was his moment, his opportunity. It wasn’t long ago that Ray was sitting on the sideline as the back up.
“Billy got hurt, Ray. Go in there and don’t screw this up.” The voice of the head coach was still echoing in his head. Since then the defense had blown the lead and it was up to Ray to win it.
“Don’t screw this up.” Ray said to himself as he broke from the huddle. He could feel beads of sweat creep down his cheekbone and leak off of his chin. The amount of sweat on his face paled in comparison to the amount in his palms. It was a feat in and of itself that he could grip the ball, let alone throw the winning touchdown pass.
He got to the line and stared down the defense. The safeties were crowding the line if he could just avoid the rush he should be able to hit his flanker on a fade. The crowd, that had sounded so loud from his seat on the bench, hardly seemed to be making a sound now. Funny how perception changes once you are thrust in the spot light. He couldn’t hear anything but his own heartbeat, but he could feel the vibrations of the stadium.
“X to the corner!” He shouted, calling the hot route. The flanking receiver looked over and nodded, the two were on the same page.
“52 is the mic! 52 is the mic!” Ray called out the blitzing linebacker. His voice was now trembling.
“Don’t screw this up.” He repeated to himself.
“Hut, hut, hike!” Ray proclaimed as the ball was released into his barely steady hands. 
            Just as he thought the safeties came after him, leaving his flanking receiver single covered. He pump faked to the flat and evaded the first blitzer. As the second safety was preparing the separate his torso from the rest of his body he threw the ball up into the air. It seemed to be up there forever and when the ball reached its highest point, it happened.
            “RAY! RAY! It’s time to wake up! You’re going to be late for fat camp!” His mother yelled as she entered him room waking him up.
            “You’ll never make the varsity football team if you don’t lose all that weight!”
            Ray shook himself to fully wake up. He looked down at his sweaty palms and just said, “Damn…”

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