Breathing raggedly, I forced myself up, grimacing as pain tore through my muscles. Sweat poured down my face, leaving it a ghastly mask of smeared eye black. My eyes ablaze with desire, I jogged back to the huddle. A defining roar erupted from the crowd as the referee spotted the football. It sat mere inches from our opponent’s goal line. My bloodstained hands found my knees, and I welcomed the brief respite. Our quarterback made his way to the huddle, his breathing even more labored than mine. A quick glance at the score board sent torrent of adrenaline rushing through my veins. Down by four with time running out, this play would determine the game. His voice hoarse, our quarterback barked out the play call. Breaking the huddle, we sprinted to the line. Turning, my eyes locked with those of my quarterback for a brief second. In that time, he mouthed a single word. Desire.
November 6, 2008