Chapter 34

I was in my room Saturday night, my cell phone rang, it was close to ten o’clock. It was Mr. Timmons telling me he had arrived in town a few hours ago, he would see me at the game tomorrow.

The game was scheduled for a five thirty kickoff, we would be taken to the Superdome sometime around noon. I was up the following morning early, I barely slept at all. I laid around until the trainer knocked on the door telling me it was time to get on the bus. When I exited the hotel lobby to get on the bus, the street was absolutely jammed pack full of fans screaming and yelling for autographs. I signed a couple but we were being pushed into the bus by the staff, they didn’t want us lingering around.

We arrived several minutes later at the Superdome and ushered inside the huge facility by the local police, security was everywhere. We arrived in the locker room to find brand new uniforms hanging in our lockers, the Superbowl patch on the upper right shoulder of the jersey.

I began to change into warm up gear, compression shorts and a long sleeved tee shirt, slipping a stocking cap on my head. I strung up a pair of turf shoes, I had a few hours to make sure I had the right shoes on. I headed out on to the floor of the dome, there were already a few dozen people in the seats around the facility, along with hundreds of workers trying to get the facility ready.

I took my time stretching, I wanted to make sure I was ready to go. I started running slowly up and down the field, taking firm cuts on the turf, testing the shoes. After twenty minutes or so, I decided to go back in to the locker room and change shoes, I didn’t like the plant I was getting with the ones I was wearing.

I went to another shoe with a slightly longer cleat, hoping to get a better footing. I went back out to the field and resumed my workout, the second pair of shoes being much better on the surface. I caught balls from an automatic machine for close to forty five minutes, then finished up by running a few routes. By the time I was finishing up, most of our team was on the field, everyone going through their own pregame rituals. I headed back to the locker room, it was close to two o’clock. I laid down on the bench in front of my locker, my mind trying to sort out what would be the biggest game of my career.

About forty five minutes later, I got out and went back out to the field, it was time to run a few routes with live balls. I positioned myself with the receivers, we went through our packages and our routes, mostly vanilla in appearance, it was simply to get timing down on the synthetic floor. It was apparent Josh was extremely tight, he was not as accurate as he normally was. I could see Coach Cullen dropping his head when a ball was off target.

As I scanned the seats, I noticed the Butlers were already in their seats in the North End Zone, second row middle. I jogged over to where they were seated, Bryan was hanging over the rail.

“Hey buddy, how are you?” I asked.

“Good, is the game about to start?” he responded.

“No, not for a while yet.” I laughed, “You wanna come down on the field?”

Mr. Butler gently lifted his son over the rail, lowering him down to me. With Bryan securely in my arms, he removed his hands and went back to his seat. I walked back in the direction of the team, still carrying the small boy. I finally set him down on the sidelines closest to where we were working out. He was completely decked out with his HD2 shirt, his cap and receiving gloves. He was an immediate hit with all of the players, they kept coming over and kneeling down, talking and joking with him. After thirty minutes or so, I walked him back to the end zone and handed him back up to his father, we were about to go back into the locker room. I saw Mr. Timmons and a friend whom I recognized, sitting three rows higher than the Butlers. He waved to me then ran down, both of them thanking me for the tickets, wishing me good luck.

As I took off across the field for the South End Zone, I heard my name being called out. I looked up towards the side line seating, and right about at the forty yard line, there was Alexis, Ashley and Jeff all seated together. I walked over and told everyone hello, then made my way back to the locker room.

I made my way to the training table, my ankles, knees and wrists taped up, I was ready to suit up. By four thirty I was dressed and ready to hit the field, the locker room was deathly quiet. I found a corner that was somewhat secluded, sitting down on the floor alone. So many things were going through my mind. My Dad, what would it mean to him if he could be here? I thought of Courtney, something that always left my heart heavy, I still missed her. I was wrapped up in my own little world, my head between my knees when I felt a slight tap on the shoulder. I looked up, it was Coach Reed.

“Just so you know, you’re not getting the start today, but you will play.” he said, no emotion in his voice.

“Thanks Coach.” I replied.

The game started right on time, we lost the flip of the coin, they took the ball first. As I sat on the end of the bench, they methodically drove the ball down the field and with barely three minutes off the clock scored first on a ten yard run. They converted the extra point, then kicked the ball off, the ball going out of the end zone.

On our first possession from our twenty yard line, Josh completed three straight passes, getting the ball close to mid field. After a short run, Josh again went to the air on an out pattern to Billy Huber. The ball hit his hands, exactly as the defender slammed into him from behind, the ball popped up, then was snatched from the air by a defensive player. Fifty yards later he crossed the goal line, we were now down 13-0, an extra point still to come.

On our second possession, we bogged down quickly, having to punt the ball back to them. Once again they methodically began a drive, but our defense stiffened, forcing them to punt the ball back. As we prepared to come out on offense for our third possession, Coach Cullen signaled me into the lineup. I trotted into the huddle just as the television time out was over. Josh knelt down, smiling when he saw my face.

“Blue fifty, X Slant, Power Fade, Y Hook on three.” he shouted.

I lined up in the slot, I was running a twenty yard hook pattern, straight up the field. I was the second option, unless they went zone, I would then be the third. I looked over the field, I recognized a Tampa Two coverage. I would have to find the soft spot in the zone about fifteen yards down field. I came off the ball hard, I saw an area between the two safeties that appeared open, I hooked behind the Sam linebacker, sitting down in the zone. Josh read his options, finally seeing me in the middle of the field. He threw a dart my way, waist high and dropping. I fell to one knee pulling in the ball safely, I was tackled immediately.

“Flip right, double - X, Jet, 36 Counter, Waggle, Power Left Cross.” Josh called in the huddle, “HD1, check with Sam, then to me.

The play never materialized properly, Josh was out of the pocket running for his life. He finally flipped the ball out to Scott in the flat, the rookie just did the rest. He cut hard back to the middle of the field, then feigned the strong safety at the forty, the guy had no chance. He shifted gears and ran the ball down the sidelines for our first score of the day. After the extra point, we had cut the lead to seven.

They scored on a long field goal on their next possession, bringing the lead to 17-7. We started out on our own twenty once again, this time attacking the defense quickly, six straight passes in a row. They were having trouble substituting, their lineman were being asked to rush the quarterback on every down. After a thirty one yard run by Scott, we were in the red zone, the ball on the fourteen yard line.

“Split right, Scat Right, 639 Y, Power Right Angle”, Josh called, “It’s Hyper Dunk time baby.”

This play was designed as a simple corner fade, I would simply hold the block on the linebacker for a second or two, then head right to the back right hand corner of the end zone. Josh would just throw the ball up, depending on the coverage, either to the pylon, or my back shoulder. It was the perfect call, I was matched up against a linebacker, the ball was spot on. I went up pulled it down, tapped both feet before I was driven out of bounds by my opponent. I quickly got up, met Josh at the goal line, then accelerated to the posts, slamming the ball over the cross bar. I then quickly retrieved the ball, moving back slightly from the wall and looking up. I saw Bryan on his dad’s shoulders, he was cheering like mad. I motioned for his dad to come down, I handed him the ball. When I arrived on the sidelines, Coach Reed grabbed me by the jersey, pulling me in front of him.

“You started the game with a fifteen hundred dollar fine, that just cost you five grand, I hope the kid was worth it.” he laughed.

“Every penny Coach.” I answered.

We got the ball back with maybe two minutes to play in the half, we were on our own thirty two yard line. While most teams only down by three in a game this huge, the play calling would have been somewhat conservative. But we always attacked, we never relented, it was not our style. We would live with the pass, or die with it. Four plays later we were again in their red zone, this time just inside the twenty.

We ran the ball once, then Josh called a quick hitting post to one of our wide outs, trying to get the score. The ball was thrown perfectly, Jaxon caught it, then turned to the goal line. As he turned, the linebacker reached in and knocked the ball loose, it was skipping across the turf heading right at me. I went in head first, my hands and arms extended reaching for the ball. There was a massive collision at the five yard line, I had the ball, but only for a second. I’m not sure what hit my left hand, but I immediately felt a searing pain, run up my left arm. It took several seconds before they could sort out the bodies, I was trapped on the bottom of the pile. When I was finally able to get up, I saw we had lost the fight for the ball. I looked down at my hand, it was throbbing in pain. I got up and trotted off of the field, holding my left hand against my body. The trainer met me at the sidelines, walking me back to the bench. By the time I sat down, the team doctor had arrived as well. The trainer cut my glove off of my hand, removing it in pieces. After a quick exam, the doctor sent me to the locker room for x rays. My left hand and lower arm were once again examined, then a series of film run at several different angles. Within minutes it was confirmed, I had broken both the Middle Phalanges in my small finger and the Metacarpal behind it. The doctor came back to the table that I was sitting on, the film in his hands.

“Brian, it’s going to have to be casted but we can’t do that for at least a few days. We can splint it, anchor it to the finger next to it, make shift you a glove, it’s up to you.” he advised.

“Do it.” I quickly answered.

After several medications, close to twenty minutes with the trainer, I was back with the team, my left hand securely bandaged. As soon as we hit the sidelines, I immediately began to try and catch the ball, trying to adjust my grip. Every time the ball hit my hands, I felt a sharp pain run up my arm. Finally I was able to basically open my left hand up, using my palm to help stop the ball. It hurt like hell, but I was going to give it a try.