The crowd is roaring, you are sweating.

You hold the football, you see the clock.

The game winner is covered by your right sock.

You need 50 yards, with a little left hook.

Your coach tells you to relax, and gives you a pat.

Your stomach is churning, your forehead is burning.

You’ve made these before, but you can’t practice this.

The snap is good, the hold is better.

A three step run up, it should be routine.

You stare down the ball, close your eyes, and kick it hard.

When you connect, you know it is solid.

If it carries it’s good, but it’s not your best.

You watch it, willing it, hoping for it, praying it will be good.

The stadium is silent, everyone watching with an odd tranquil silence.

You watch it spin, seemingly suspended in the moment.

When its course is stopped and hits the back of the net, the referees raise their hands.

You collapse to the ground in silent tears of joy, soaking in the glorious cheers.

For you have just won the game!