Reminiscing is such a strange thing; thinking of the past memories and experiences. Sometimes you want to relive them--other times you just love thinking about them. Whether it be that crisp, golden sunset streaked with oranges, reds, purples while standing on a rugged, uneven boulder that hadn't felt human feet on its back in a long time--if ever--and the refreshing breezes of the valley 2,000 feet directly below you wanting to sweep you off that boulder and into the darkness closing in on you from the east.
Or, maybe it's that game. The one that afterwards, you had more aches and bruises than you had ever seen on your body. That game that you didn't feel any limitations. Where you would be in the huddle with some of your best friends--hear the play--your favorite, 518--move into quick snap. "Down, go..."--jump into the tailback spot--partly crouched--"set, hit!"--your linemen shoot off the line, cross-blocking like they had known to do--the spin back gets the ball and turns toward you--you nonchalantly moving toward him with arms in position to receive it--inside elbow is ALWAYS up--as you cross him, he places the pigskin snuggly into your stomach--you clench your abs to help brace it secure against your body as both two fingers on each of your hands go over opposite tips of the ball. All those drills of securing the ball now make it feel natural to hold without another soul being able to take it from you--you move parallel to the linemen until you reach your opening, then make a 90 degree cut straight toward enemy territory--the hole the linemen made for you isn't more than 1 and a half feet wide--only about 3/4 of a second to get through it before it closes and you get hung up--but you don't because you have run this play more times than you can count. You follow your 250 pound pulling guard who leads the way through the gap to pick up the first linebacker on the opposite side--he takes one out--now it's just you and all of the guys with the opposite colored jerseys. You don't focus on one area of the field because that area may not be open in two tenths of a second. No, you react to movement--you see a middle linebacker closing from the left, but you don't move until he gets a little closer--bam, you make a last second 45 degree cut the opposite way and he misses you--CRUNCH--you get blindsided from the right--how did you not anticipate that?! You fall with him and three others to the ground. He's happy because he just wiped you out--you jump up smiling because you know you get to do that all over again. The little boy in the crowd is disappointed because it looks like you barely got anywhere, and you didn't score a touchdown. you see that you made 7 yards--huge success to you and the rest of your linemen. Time to do it all over again. This time, however, you'll get that cut and make a break for it.
