The Last Play

we talked about the past today, how I had been a big football star,

blah, blah, blah, yeah sure,

I told her I never cared about any of that,

how it had all been a lie, a way to rub shit back in the faces

of those around me, a way to take out all the anger and frustration;

later I remembered something that has been inside for a long, long time,

I remembered my greatest game ever, how I rushed for 256 yards (a school record),

scored 4 touchdowns, etc. etc., but the only thing I really remember,

was the very last play;

I was playing defense (cornerback), we were winning 55-0 (or something like that),

the other team began putting in all their subs, all the younger kids who never get

to play in close games, good experience (and all that shit), there was this kid,

he was young, probably a freshman or sophomore, skinny kid,

he was lined up at wide receiver;

I had just played the greatest game in school history, I felt god-like,

omnipotent, what a joke, I was lined up across from this kid,

this poor, sad, skinny little kid, who was looking at me with this awed look,

like I was the greatest thing in the world, he was shaking, he was so scared,

I just stared at him, with a cold smirk on my face, making him even more afraid,

the ball was snapped, he started to run down the field, it was my job to slow

up his progress, give him a forearm, give the linemen time to get too the quarterback,

I did my job, only I did it much better than I needed to,

I buried my fist in his gut;

a more experienced player would have been ready for it, (it was so easy),

he went down like he had been shot with a 44 magnum, the play ended,

the game was over, this skinny little kid just laid there on the ground,

groaning and holding his stomach, tears welling up in his eyes,

I just stood there, looking down at him, he had this look on his face that said

‘why? why did you do that to me?’, it was as if I had shattered his self-image,

destroyed his view of the world, his faith in gods and legends, a hurt much worse

than the pain in his gut;

I just smiled and laughed, then turned and walked away;

the next day there were photos of me, and big headlines about school records,

blah, blah, blah, but there wasn’t a single word about that play in the paper;

but I knew,

I would always know;

the beer and whiskey afterwards, almost wiped his face out of my mind;

almost,

but not quite.

.

.