Date: December 16, 1989 (Saturday).
Location: Texas Stadium.
Event: 3A State Championship. The Second Half.
Halftime Score: Medford 14, Vernon 10.
The Third Quarter wasn't a football game. It was a reality check.
We received the opening kickoff. The crowd was buzzing, expecting us to keep the momentum. But the adrenaline had worn off. In its place was just lead in our legs.
First Drive:
I tried to scramble left. The Vernon defensive end—who hadn't fallen for a fake since the second quarter—stayed home. He grabbed my jersey and didn't let go. Sacked.
Second down: Handoff to the running back. No hole. Stuffed.
Third down: Incomplete pass.
We had the ball for ninety seconds. We punted.
Then the strangulation began.
Vernon took the ball at their own 20-yard line. They were trailing 14-10, but they didn't panic. They lined up in a tight formation—shoulder to shoulder—and ran Power-I.
Snap. Smash. 4 yards.
Snap. Smash. 4 yards.
They kept the ball for the rest of the quarter. Literally.
They marched 80 yards in twenty plays. It took ten agonizing minutes. I was playing Safety again, trying to shoot the gap, but they had adjusted. Every time I blitzed, a 200-pound fullback met me in the hole.
They crossed the goal line as the quarter ended.
Touchdown Vernon. (7 points).
Score Update: Vernon 17, Medford 14.
***
The Fourth Quarter: The Wall
We were losing by 3 points with 10 minutes left in the season.
I went back to Quarterback.
"Spread formation!" I yelled.
But my receivers were gassed. Higgins ran a slant, but he was half a step slow. The Vernon corner draped all over him. Incomplete.
I tried to force a throw to the tight end. Tipped. Almost picked off.
We punted again.
Vernon got the ball. They did it again. Smash. Smash. Smash.
They didn't score this time, but they burned the clock. They forced us to use all our timeouts.
4:00 left.
3:00 left.
2:00 left.
Our defense made one final, desperate stand. Bullard, bleeding from his nose, shot a gap and tackled the runner for a loss on 3rd down.
Fourth down. Vernon punted.
The ball rolled dead at our 20-yard line.
1:15 left. No timeouts. Down by 3.
***
The Final Drive
I walked into the huddle.
I looked at the guys. Tiny was leaning on his knees, wheezing like a broken air conditioner.
"This is it," I said. My voice was raspy. "Eighty yards. We don't need to be perfect. We just need to be lucky."
First Down: I threw a quick out to the sideline. 6 yards. Out of bounds. Clock stops.
Second Down: I scrambled for 5 yards. First down.
Third Down: I got flushed out of the pocket. I threw it away.
0:45 left.
We crossed midfield. But we were moving too slow. The Vernon defense was playing "Prevent"—dropping everyone deep to stop the touchdown. They were giving us the short stuff, letting the clock bleed.
0:20 left. Ball on the Vernon 45.
I took the snap. I looked deep. Covered. I checked down to the running back. He got tackled in bounds.
"Hurry!" I screamed. "Line up!"
The team scrambled to the line. It was chaos.
0:08 left.
I spiked the ball. The clock stopped.
0:06 left.
One play. 45 yards to go. We couldn't kick a field goal to tie—it was too far (62 yards). We had to go for the endzone.
***
The Miracle
I looked at the defense. They had five guys standing on the goal line. There was no window. If I threw it into the endzone, it would be batted down.
I looked at the sideline. George Sr. had his hands on his head. He knew. It was over.
I looked at Tiny. He was blocking the defensive end.
I didn't call a play. I just looked at him.
"Blue 80!"
Snap.
The rush came. I rolled right. Then I rolled left. I was buying time.
3 seconds. 2 seconds.
A Vernon lineman grabbed my jersey. I was going down.
I didn't throw a spiral. I didn't aim for a receiver.
I closed my eyes and chucked the ball as high as I could toward the 10-yard line.
The buzzer sounded. BZZZZZZT. Game over.
The ball fell out of the sky. A cluster of players—three Vernon defenders and Higgins—jumped for it.
The Vernon Safety swatted it. He did his job perfectly.
Smack.
The ball deflected off his hand. It shot sideways, spinning like a top.
It hit a Vernon linebacker's helmet. Bonk.
It popped up again.
And there, standing all alone at the 5-yard line because he was too tired to run the route properly, was Tiny.
The ball fell.
Tiny opened his arms like he was catching a sack of flour.
Thud.
He caught it.
The stadium went silent. The Vernon players were on the ground, celebrating the deflection. They didn't see him.
Tiny blinked. He looked at the ball. He looked at the endzone.
He took two steps.
He fell across the goal line just as a Vernon defender realized what happened and dove for his ankle.
The referee stared at the pile.
He waited.
He raised both arms.
TOUCHDOWN. (6 Points).
The scoreboard flickered.
14 + 6 = 20.
Final Score: Medford 20, Vernon 17.
***
The Aftermath
The explosion of noise was physical. It hit me in the chest.
I lay on the turf where I had been sacked. I didn't get up. I just stared at the hole in the roof. The blue sky.
We won.
Since the clock had expired, there was no extra point kick. The game was just... over.
Suddenly, hands were grabbing me. Bullard. Higgins. Then George Sr., sobbing, lifting me up.
"You lucky son of a gun!" George screamed, hugging me so hard I thought my ribs would crack. "You lucky, beautiful idiot!"
I looked at the stands.
Mary was hugging Serena. Meemaw was dancing.
And Sheldon?
Sheldon wasn't cheering. He was looking at Eric van der Woodsen.
"That deflection vector," Sheldon shouted, "was statistically impossible!"
"Chaos!" Eric shouted back, grinning. "Pure chaos!"
***
The Locker Room
An hour later. The locker room smelled like cheap cider and sweat.
I was sitting in front of my locker, finally peeling off my cleats. I wasn't injured. Just empty.
The door to the coaches' office opened. George Sr. walked out. He wasn't smiling anymore. He looked shell-shocked.
He walked over to me. He sat down on the bench.
"You okay, Dad?" I asked.
George looked at his hands. They were shaking slightly.
"A man stopped me in the tunnel," George whispered. "Wearing a suit. Didn't look like he belonged here."
I stopped untying my shoe. "A scout?"
"Bigger," George said. "He gave me this."
He held up a business card. It was heavy stock. Embossed.
University of Tulsa Athletics.
"He said they need someone who can turn garbage into gold," George said, his voice trembling. "He said they've been watching us for a month. Not just you, Georgie. Me."
In the original timeline, George turned down opportunities like this. He stayed in Medford until the day he died.
I looked him in the eye.
"Take it," I said.
George blinked. "Your mom..."
"Mom wants you to be happy," I said firmly. "Sheldon needs better schools. Missy needs a fresh start. And us? Dad, we just conquered Texas. If we stay here, we're just waiting to lose."
George looked at the card again. He ran his thumb over the gold lettering.
"Tulsa," he whispered. "That's D1, Georgie. That's the big show."
"You belong in the big show, Dad."
George nodded slowly. He put the card in his pocket. He didn't say yes. He didn't say no. But the way he stood up—taller, straighter—said everything.
***
The Silhouette
High above the field, the stadium was empty. The cleaning crews were sweeping up the confetti.
In the luxury box at the 50-yard line, the lights were off. But a figure was still standing by the window.
He was an older man. Silver hair. Expensive suit. He held a tumbler of bourbon in one hand.
He wasn't looking at the scoreboard. He was looking at the tunnel where the Medford team had just exited.
He took a sip of his drink.
"Interesting," he murmured.
He turned to his assistant, who was standing in the shadows.
"The kid has the arm," the man said. "But the father... the father has the command."
"Do we make the formal offer, sir?" the assistant asked.
The man smiled. It wasn't a nice smile. It was the smile of a shark seeing blood in the water.
"Let them celebrate tonight," the man said. "Call him Monday."
He turned off the lights.
"I want them both."
[Quest Update: The State Path]
* Result: VICTORY (State Champions).
* Final Score: Medford 20, Vernon 17.
* Consequence: The Tulsa Job Offer (Package Deal).
* Unlock: Volume 3: The Golden Hurricane.