flash fiction: the time

hike to #8 quarterback handoff i grab it fake stepleft stepright jib it highstepit #32’s defense blitzing clean no block wide eyes monsterarms stretchedwide head down for my chest i stutterstepit ha idiot eats the 25 yard line, my #64 right tackle rigram 300 pound guy’s got squirrel bones in his locker says he sucks on them crazyshit but crazy’s good when he’s all over #72 defensive tackle who a few plays ago clipped my ankles i screamed, told me youreoutoftime, he’s outoftime now while I stepit by him, givim the finger dingyfucker, #72 the one screaming now holdholdhold to ref nowhere nearby, fans rousing not for me against me, want to see #59 linebacker ravi plaster me headon in full stride can’t find him though in this traffic —

coach says they play zone,

so #59 maybe closing in from the other side of the field, from his zone, sneaking from the side or behind can’t tell, or he jumps, drops from the air, like rain, rane, rein, reign, violent, youreoutoftime — just #20 the safety visible but blocked by jan the wide receiver, blocks guys fistpunching, gets away with it, like on a punching bag but on the chest or the face 1, 2, 1, 2, 1, 2 ,3–10 yards closer to endzone the stands of fans closing in, endzone stands, fans screaming for and against, you don’t know because it sounds the same, score, don’t let him score, he’s out of time —

sure thing #59 ravi slinks his way

thru the bodies, jan tries to punch him, but ravi blows through jan’s arm, legs freewheeling over the grass, guy does a 4.4 second 40 meter, they say, monster number for a linebacker, and he’s catching an angle, i’m catching an angle for the sideline, on the tigers side, the enemy, maybe at the 30-yard line, from the endzone, my 4.51 40 meter versus ravi’s, and he’s run farther, through blockers, probably tired, slowing, slowed — i’m breathing shorter, tighteninggrip on the ball, some coach on the sideline kicks up a towel, a player swings his helmet — ravi’s behind, his footsteps, the volume and frequency rise, a pull at my right shoulder pad, then my jersey —

ravi trashtalks it’s over,

no touchdown for you, i got you, get down, outoftime — shut it! shut it! — i yank my shoulder, it works, the grip, the fingers, the hand slides off — on the 15 yardline, looking back nobody there, no one left, move into the field some from the sideline, get on the hash marks, the zipper flies by, tighten your grip on the ball, check again over the shoulder, still nobody, sweet jesus on the 5 yard line it’s done, cross the goal line, 6 points, lay the ball on the ground pretty baby rest in the endzone, hands up, silence the fans, silence the footsteps, silence the pounding of his heart, silence the ball let it rest, silence the bodies pounding into each other, silence the coach, silence ravi splayed on the grass, silence jan’s punching, the angles, the ankles that ache, the time —