The Separating White Line I glance up at the scoreboard; the clock reads 2:15 left in the fourth quarter. My team is down by 3 points; we have eighty-five yards to go, and have no time outs left. I yell out the cadence and the center snaps the oblong ball into my hands. Taking a short three-step drop I glance to my left. The only objects I see are two beefy defensive linemen bearing down on me. …showed first 75 words of 257 total…

…showed last 75 words of 257 total…he has instilled in his players appear to be coming together for at least four quarters. Its about time, we have suffered through four straight losses, and have barely put any points on the scoreboard all season. My coach brushes the few hairs that have kept their pigment through the painful slump of losses. He emphasizes how much time is left and the fact that we have no timeouts. I rush back to the huddle