Playing The Game

Austin's Injury

The game is back in full swing, last quarter and the Panthers are leading by a touchdown and two field goals. If only Austin would discreetly pass the freaking ball to Davis then they could rush the last fifteen yards. Or even take a risk and toss it to Duke, our fastest receiver.

Then the unthinkable happens.

There's a gap in the human wall, allowing Panther number 76 easy access to Austin. The player takes the stupidly obvious opening and heavily tackles the QB.

Now, Austin has taken many hits in his football career, none compared to this.

He fell hard, his left ankle bending in all the wrong places.

Surely, most first season home games don't go this way. While attending Stonehenge High, you learn nothing goes the way it should. Country folk love when the right goes wrong, gives the ticker some excitement.

The referee blows his whistle and I scramble to my friend, "That looked horrible."

"Really? I'd say it looked sorta brave." he grins, weak.

Dad gently grabs Austins ankle and gives it a roll, making our tough quarterback gasp like a girl.

"That bad, huh?"

"You've no idea Coach."

It took all of our linebackers to get a whimpering Austin into the locker room.

They were all outside, trying to figure out who could be a proper substitute for Austin.

"Avery,"

"Austin."

"Put on my uniform, and get those fucking Panthers."

"Won't you let this go?" My temper spikes. We've been having this argument as long as forever. He doesn't seem to comprehend a rather easy fact; girls do not play football.

"Hell no. I'm tried of seeing you prance around, chanting lame rhymes. You're more then that, you have talent and you're being selfish by not sharing it with the world." I can't handle it when he uses those dreadful brown puppy eyes on me.

I smile, "You wont stop 'till I do, will ya?"

"Just merely a Southern gentlemen tryin' to get a mighty fine lady outta her shell."

Being from Alabama and all, we have pronounced accents, but Austin went a little too deep in the old Southern ways of speech.

"Thank the great Lord we're about the same size."

Not gonna lie, it was a hassle to get all the football protection on, even with Austin's help. We're the exact same height, but I have assets that my male friend doesn't. Luck, it would be, was in my favor. Good thing football players must wear layers of protection.

Austin always has to have under amour on, the white shirt is kind of baggy but not to when you could spot it. I put that over my top. Making him cover his eyes, I quickly take off my skirt and put on his black pants with all the necessary padding. I have to tie the strings to fit my slim hips.

Then his shoes, which I had to wear four pairs of socks just to make them fit. Boys normally wear long socks, it wasn't unusual that I brought them up to hide my calves. The thickness of the fabric could be mistaken as muscle. I made sure they were pink, for breast cancer, course those were the ones you couldn't see.

I had to get Austin to aid me with the shoulder pads. They were a lot heavier then what they looked. Oddly, I enjoyed this.

Finally, his brand new grey gloves and deep blue number 11 jersey and like magic, I'm Austin. Well. I'm in his clothes and you can't tell its me.

I tie my hair in a tight bun.

"At least we both have blond hair, yours may be lighter, but no one will think twice. Don't let them see your eyes though, how could I suddenly exchange my brown eyes for blue ones? And when the game ends, run straight in here and hide. I'll be waiting."

I nervously nod then place his dark blue helmet on my head. The visor reflects a rainbow color, concealing my face. I twist sideways, gazing at the black knight on the side.

"Any other advise?" I could do with some reassurance.

"Yeah, don't talk. I ain't no high pitched sissy."

I walk out the room, careful to walk like Austin with my feet apart and my hands swinging by my sides.

Dad's gaze comes to me, "Austin."

I stick out my left foot and roll it in every possible way.

"Are you sure?" Dad's lips are tightly form a grim line. I think he knows Austin isn't standing in front of him, but he doesn't think its me either.

I give him, the ref, and other players a thumbs up.

"Alright." Ty hoots.

We walk to the turf and I stand on the sidelines.

"Yeah, Austin!"

"Bring home the W boy!"

"You can do it!"

"No more tackles!"

"You da man!"

Dad roughly put his hand on my shoulder, "Block them out, and play the game. You aren't Austin, but obviously you want to be a secret. That's fine with me. Remember, people will talk, what matters is,"

"-how high you walk. But always continue to play the game" I deeply grumble. That was his saying, how every coach has their one go-to line, my dad's felt dorky.

Dad chuckles, "Steal my words why don't ya? Play a good game son."

The ref whistles, and we position ourselves on the field. I take a calming breath and send my players to their rightful places. My throat is gonna ache in the morning.

I recall this day, and how it defined my life.

Not once have I come to regret it.

*

And there it is.

I don't know much about football, I googled what I do know now so if you see any boneheaded mistakes, call me out!

And Stonehenge, Alabama is a made up place. Along with the high school, people, and other places that will come.

This is barely the beginning, I hope y'all liked it!

~Peace