Chapter 23

The rest of the week drug by, I was still somewhat sore by the time Friday rolled around. We had practiced hard that week we would be playing Kansas City at home this Sunday at noon. We were favoured by six points, it was a game that, if we played well, we should win. I got home Friday after practice, showered then dressed to go downtown. I left the condo about four o’clock, then drove downtown to the hospital. I had a rough time trying to navigate the parking area, I finally made my way into the garage structure across the street. I made my way across the street into the main entrance of the hospital, then to the elevators. I rode up to the fourth floor, I was alone. The doors opened, I stepped into the hallway looking both ways. On my left I saw a large circular nurse’s station, several young girls seated behind computers. I walked over to the desk, leaning on the counter as the young woman typed.

“Can I help you?” she asked, without looking up.

“Yes mam, I am here to see Bryan Butler.” I replied.

She stopped typing and looked up quickly, she was quite attractive. I could tell she was immediate startled at my size, she pushed back sharply in her chair, standing up.

“Are you family?” she asked.

“No mam, my name is Brian Stevens, the boy’s father asked me if I would come by and see him.” I replied.

By now the second nurse had turned around and walked up behind her co-worker. She nudged her gently in the back causing her to turn and look at the other woman.

“He’s the football player Mr. Butler told me about.” she said, smiling.

“Oh alright then. I can let you through in about fifteen minutes. One of his parents has to be here, they usually get here about five thirty. You can sit there and wait if you would like.” she offered, pointing to a large sofa against the wall.

I took a seat leaning back relaxing, watching the non stop activity that went on at this area of the hospital. Nurses, doctors and other worker’s constantly back and forth, checking charts, talking on the phone, going in and out of the rooms. About ten minutes later a woman approached the station, you could tell she was a regular visitor.

“Hey Jenny, how are you today honey?” she asked the young nurse.

“I’m great Mrs. Butler, thank you. Oh, Bryan has a visitor.” she replied, pointing in my direction.

I stood up slowly, as the woman approached me gingerly. She slowly extended her small hand to mine, her handshake was soft and feminine.

“It’s so nice of you to do this for Bryan. I ... I can’t tell you ... how much this means to us.” she said, her eyes filling with tears.

“It’s my pleasure mam.” I answered.

She went on to tell me that Bryan was seven years old, battling his second bout of leukaemia in as many years. Treatment appeared to be working but this was a disease that was so unpredictable. She told me he had just underwent several treatments over the past few days, so he would still be feeling somewhat weak. I followed her slowly down the hall to the last room on the right, where she slowly pushed the door opened.

In the bed laid a small frail boy, he was extremely pale. There were several tubes attached to his arms, monitors on other parts of his body. He had blue knit cap on his head, it appeared he was completely bald under the hat. As I approached the bed, his eyes were closed, he was sleeping peacefully. As I looked at the small child, I couldn’t help but feel a rush of heartbreak, thinking about my Courtney, how much I missed her. The boy’s mother leaned over, kissing him gently on the cheek. The boy’s eyes opened, a weak smile formed on his lips.

“Hey sweetheart, how are you feeling today?” she asked.

“I’m ok ... Mom.” he answered.

“Guess who’s here?” she asked.

The boy slowly turned his head towards me, his weak smile turning into a huge grin. I smiled back at the child, stepping forward and shaking his small hand, very gently, making sure not to disturb any of the medical attachments.

“Hello Bryan, I’m so glad to meet you. Someone from the team office called me and told me I had a fan. Well, I have never had a fan before, so since you’re my first, I just had to come meet you.” I told him.

The entire time I was talking to him, the smile just kept getting bigger and bigger. His mom laughed out loud at my explanation, knowing what in fact had actually happened. I pulled the chair up to the bed, sat down and leaned forward.

“So tell me buddy, why am I your favorite player?” I asked.

The young boy, turned to his mom as if he was searching for an answer, she nodded her head towards me as much as to say, tell him. The young boy turned his head back towards me, I could tell he was nervous.

“Cuz your name is ... is the same as mine, and uh ... you jump real high ... then you catch the ball.” he said, slowly each phrase independent from the previous.

“Well we do have the same name, you’re right. I do try and catch the ball, but sometimes I do drop it.” I said, winking back at him.

“I only ... saw you drop it ... once.” he smiled.

By this time the boy’s father had made his way into the room, he walked over and shook my hand thanking me for taking the time to come see his young son. I went back to my conversation with the young boy, I began asking him questions about himself. After a few minutes, we were getting along really well, like we had known each other for a long time. I had heard his father ask his wife, if she had eaten yet today, to which she answered she had not. I turned to the two of them, catching them unaware.

“Hey Mom and Dad, why don’t you two go get something to eat, Bryan and I will hang out here until you get back.” I offered.

“Are you sure?” the woman asked.

“Yep, we will be fine. If we get lonely, we will call in a few nurses, huh buddy?” I asked, winking at Bryan.

“Yea Mom ... You guys go eat.” he laughed.

His parents left the room with a bit of hesitation, we resumed our conversation quickly. In the next forty five minutes I learned the true meaning of courage. This tiny child had been battling this disease for most of his life. He had spent the last three months confined to this hospital room. He made it very hard for you to even imagine you had any problems, much less entertain the notion of feeling sorry for yourself. There was a knock on the door, a very pretty blonde nurse came in, walking around to the boy’s side of the bed. They knew each other well, he quickly acknowledged her presence.

“This my new friend ... his name is Brian too ... he plays football on TV.” the boy said excitedly.

“He’s on TV?” the nurse asked, an astonished look on her face.

“Yep, he’s really good too.” he added.

I had to laugh at his last comment, this small child was truly my biggest fan in this town. As he turned his head back in my direction, his nurse began checking all of his equipment, take readings, this I figured was her ritual. As she was wrapping up her duties, his mother and father came back into the room, walking to the foot of his bed.

“So how are you guys getting along?” his father asked.

“Doing good sir. He is quite a little man.” I answered.

“We can’t thank you enough for taking the time out to see him. It’s really generous of you.” his father said.

“I had to come as soon as I found out I had a fan. I mean, do you realize he is my very first fan?” I asked, trying to act as serious as possible.

“Am I really you’re first fan?” Bryan asked.

“Yes you are. This is my first vist to anyone, since I have been out here.” I answered.

“Wow.” he said, grinning ear to ear.

“And since you are my first fan, that entitles you to another visit, plus you get something signed for your collection. So what do you think you would like autographed?” I asked.

The boy thought hard for close to a minute, then a smile returned to his face. With all the sincerity in the world, he asked for the item he most wanted signed.

“When you catch a touchdown on Sunday, can you sign the ball and bring it to me?” he asked, innocently.

“Oh is that all you want?” I laughed.

“Yep, that’s it.” he replied.

“Well Bryan, I tell ya what. I won’t catch a touchdown in every game, it’s just not that easy. But I will promise you, the next one I catch, you will get the ball.” I answered.

“You promise?” he said, frowning slightly.

“I promise buddy.” I responded.

His parents followed me outside of the room, once again thanking me for taking the time to come and visit their child. His father shook my hand, letting me off the hook for a return visit. He insisted I had done more than he had hoped for, coming back was not necessary.

“Are you kidding me. My fan wants a game ball, he gets a game ball.” I answered.

I drove back home, but that night I had trouble sleeping, I couldn’t get the young man I had just met, off of my mind. I know it took over an hour for me to fall asleep. The next morning we had our customary meetings, we then went through our last walk through before the game tomorrow. After practice was over, we were dressing in the locker room, I mentioned my vist with Bryan the day before to Josh. He found it quite amusing that I had promised my new young friend, I would score for him. I explained I didn’t have much of a choice, I was put on the spot.

I arrived early the following morning, I was in the stadium before nine o’clock. I hit the field dressed in just shorts and a tee shirt and began to warm up on my own. Slowly players began arriving, soon I was catching passes from one of our backup quarterbacks. At about ten thirty, I headed back to the locker room to get taped up and dressed, by the time we were set to kick off, I was a raving lunatic.

We got off to poor start turning the ball over on two consecutive possessions resulting in a 10-0 lead for our opponent in the first quarter. We had cut the margin to 13-7 by halftime, but we still were not playing well. The mood in the locker room was tense during the break, we were not used to playing from behind.

We opened the third quarter with a nice drive, I caught two passes for decent gains, before we stalled out and settled for a field goal. We narrowed the lead to 13-10, early in the third quarter. The score stayed that way for the rest of the quarter and early into the fourth. With about ten minutes left in the fourth quarter, Kansas City kicked another field goal extending their lead to 16-10, forcing us to have to score a touchdown to win the game.

We struggled on the next drive, twice having to convert on third down to keep the drive alive. We were at our own forty five yard line, there was less than five minutes to play. While we wanted to score, we also wanted to leave as little time on the clock as possible, because a field goal could beat us. We ran several more plays getting the ball inside of their forty, there was 3:10 left on the clock, Josh signaled a time out, he trotted to the sidelines. After a lengthy television time out, he returned to the huddle, a series of plays were called in case we had to go with no huddle. On first and ten, we had a screen play called, the defense read it well, Josh had to leave the pocket, running to his left. I immediately broke off my crossing route, reversed field and worked my way clear around the fifteen. He threw a dart that cleared two sets of defender’s hands, right into mine. I took my eyes off the ball for a moment, to see how much room I had to work with, that was all it took as the ball dropped to the turf harmlessly.

“Damn it.” I screamed at myself, while thousands, groaned in unison.

I returned to the huddle my head down, I couldn’t look at anyone. Josh took control of the huddle as always.

“You can’t drop those rookie, get your head in the game.” he said, calmly getting his point across.

We ran two quick plays getting the ball to their twelve yard line, before taking our second time out of the half. Again Josh and Coach Reed met for the entire timeout, discussing what they wanted to try. There was exactly 1:22 left on the clock, we were exactly where we wanted to be. Josh called three plays in the huddle simultaneously due to the fact that the first play was a draw play, we were hoping to catch them looking for a pass. It was a short gain, to the nine, the clock was running. On second down, I was running a fade into the corner, this was going to be my chance to score, if their was one. The play went off, I got doubled up, there was no opportunity for Josh to get the ball to me, he threw it out of the end zone, to kill the clock. We had twenty eight seconds to go, one time out left.

We knew we would huddle up, run a play, if we didn’t score, we would immediately call time out, then try one last gasp on fourth down. We had a double pick play called, with a max protection package in for Josh. I was lined up on the left side, one wide out was outside of me. I would come off the line and run a short out, breaking at about the two yard line, then fading into the end zone. The wide out on my side would come right off my shoulder with a crossing route, hopefully using me to shield his defender and get open. We were keeping the running back in for added protection in case of a blitz.

The play went off as called, I came off the line hard, cut sharply at the one, then held my ground, looking for my wide out. Apparently something had happened, he was late getting there. I knew the only chance he had was for me to vacate the area and let Josh try to throw him open inside. I quickly pushed off my back foot and headed for the back of the end zone, clearing a passing lane. Josh already had his arm cocked, I saw the ball moving forward as our receiver cut through my field of vision. I stopped just about two yards shy of the back end line, deep in the end zone, watching the ball in flight. I immediately knew it was going to be high, and slightly behind our receiver. I set myself squarely, the safety leaving me to attack the ball in flight. Our receiver, the cornerback and safety all arrived at about the same time. The ball hit our receiver in the hands, careening off to my right, high in the air toward the corner of the end zone.

I was anticipating a high throw so I was already moving in that direction. I accelerated with everything I had, my eyes locked on the tumbling sphere. I knew I might get close, but I was going to have to lay out. With one final push, I dove straight out, my arms extended fully, my eyes still locked on the ball. My hands arrived a split second before the ball, one palm under the point, the other on the side. My body then slid across the turf, rolling to my right, still clutching the ball between my hands. I was lying flat on my back, I had the ball extended straight up in the air, the crowd was deafening. As I sat up, I saw the back judge and the side judge talking quickly, then the back judge signalling incomplete pass. I jumped to my feet, sprinting full out stopping inches from the back judge.

“No way ref, that’s six. It never hit the ground.” I yelled.

“The point of the ball touched the ground son, sorry.” he yelled back.

I turned violently towards our bench, using my hand to reach inside of an imaginary pocket, tossing the challenge flag. Over and over, I dramatically made the motion in the direction of Coach Stanton for him to challenge the play. He finally reached into his pocket, tossing the flag to the turf in front of the referee. The referee picked up the flag, walked over to Coach Stanton handing him the flag, listening briefly to his argument. He then turned towards the home side of the field, turned on his microphone addressing the crowd.

“San Diego is challenging the ruling on the field of an incomplete pass.” he finished, clicking off his microphone, and headed to his viewing camera located at about the ten yard line.

I still had the ball in my hand, pounding my chest repeatedly as I approached the sideline. Everyone was watching the big screen on the north end of the field as they repeatedly ran the play over and over, attempting to get the best view of what happened. On two of the shots they had, it looked really close, but nothing was clear cut. But then they threw up a third look, taken from the end zone camera, which showed my hand, palm up, under the nose of the ball. When that view was shown, the crowd erupted in unison. Josh walked over to where I was standing, leaning into my ear.

“Damn boy, I really thought it hit the ground. You caught that huh?” he asked.

“Damn right I did.” I answered, slapping his helmet.

But no matter what I thought, the crowd thought, or what was called, there had to be irrefutable evidence to over turn the call made on the field. It was after all, called incomplete. Several minutes passed, the crowd was growing anxious, the referee still under the hood, making sure they made this call correctly. Finally the referee threw the hood on the camera back, trotting back to the center of the field, his face a blank slate, no evidence of what was to come.

“After further review, the receiver’s right hand was under the ball, he then maintained possession, the ball never hit the ground. The ruling on the field is a completed pass, touchdown, San Diego. They will not be charged with a time out.” he said, his arms extended above his head.

The roar was deafening, everyone was mobbing me at once, slapping and hugging me. The referee was trying to restore order, there was still a few seconds left on the clock, we would have to kick the ball back to them. I trotted off to the field to our bench, the ball tucked tightly under my arm. As I sat down on the end of the bench, my heart was racing. Coaches and players were still coming up congratulating me on the catch, the crowd was still out of control. We kicked the ball down the middle of the field not allowing them to set up a decent run back, the game was over, the teams headed to midfield to shake hands and talk. After several minutes, I made my way back into the locker room, the ball still firmly in hand. I placed it at the top of my locker, and began to get undressed. Little by little, the team and coaches returned, Coach Stanton began his post game comments to the team.

Once again, he congratulated us for never giving up, having the tenacity to play well with the game on the line. He felt that this could be one of the best teams in the league, provided we kept playing like we had thus far.

“Where is Stevens?” he asked loudly.

Everyone pointed to where I was sitting in front of my bench. I stood up slowly, most of the room cheering loudly. He signaled to one of the trainers who tossed him a ball from the game.

“I don’t think it takes a genius to figure out who gets the offensive game ball today.” he shouted, tossing it to me.

“Thanks Coach”, I replied.

He then gave out the defensive game ball to one of our linebackers, Sam Lucas, again everyone cheered. As was customary, the trainer picked up both balls from us, they would be hand painted, with the date, team and score of the games, as well as our name placed on the panels. It was my first game ball, it meant a lot to me.

I sat back down and began to get undressed, one of our media people came up and asked me to be present at the post game conference, the press would want to talk to me. I showered quickly, dressed and made my way to the conference area. As I approached the side of the stage, I could see Coach Stanton was still answering questions. I saw him glance over in my direction, then back to the media without missing a beat.

“Coach, what was running through your mind while you waited for the ruling on the field after Stevens’ catch in the end zone?” one of the reporters asked, “Did you really think he caught it?”