By Damon Yeargain
First and goal. Last game. Season on the line. I took the handoff and charged. There was an opening I could’ve powered through, but instead, I leaped over the pile, ball outstretched. The truth is that I wanted to make the highlights.
I felt a punch against my hand and watched the ellipsoid bounce along the ground, an opposing jersey falling on it. My touchdown, the season, gone.
It’s funny—no, sad—how everything can slip away.
I heard she found someone new. Truth is, I was just trying to make an impression. And I can’t even remember that girl’s name.
I’m not fond of the last sentence. The previous one is a perfect ending. Spend the freed up words somewhere else.
Excellent advice. Readers are smart and one doesn’t always need to connect the dots for them.
Well done, I think. A complete story.
I loved the ending and it brought the young man even more alive and determined not only to be the number one player but love in his heart was pumping the adrenaline……good to know he survived those words he couldn’t remember her name spoke volumes…well done