Prologue
Prologue
“Well, that does it, Roger. The Mustangs are in the playoffs, taking the wildcard spot in their division with this win over the Cyclones.”
“Yes, Ed. The Mustangs’ quarterback, Adam Davis, pulled off a miracle win passing for two touchdowns and an incredible two-point conversion in the last three minutes of play to beat the defending Super Bowl champions 29–28.”
“The Cyclones are leading their division, so, despite the loss, these two teams will likely meet again in the playoffs. There’s only one week left of regular season play.”
“If that works out, it should really be a good game with what happened here today.”
“Ed, let’s join the post game interview with Adam.”
The scene shifted from the game announcers to the post game interview set where Adam Davis was about to begin answering questions about the game from the press.
“Adam,” a reporter called out from the audience, “that was a pretty gutsy call on the two-point conversion. Why not go for a sure PAT and tie the game and let it go into overtime?”
“Well,” handsome, red haired, soft-spoken, Adam Davis replied. “I don’t much like going into overtime. The team that wins the coin toss usually wins the game, especially when they have a field goal kicker like the Cyclones have. He hits fifty yard plus field goals all the time. So I figured we had a fifty-fifty chance at winning the toss. We’ve made seventy percent of our two point tries. That gave us better odds. So I took the chance.”
Another reporter called out, “Wanna comment on Brendan Fletcher? He was on you like a magnet on steel the whole game: three sacks and intercepted you twice.”
Adam shook his head, laughing. “Brendan’s a great linebacker. He really had my number today. Lucky for me he was expecting a pass on the conversion when I decided to run the ball in myself…he wasn’t anywhere near me.”
“With both the Mustangs and the Cyclones in the playoffs, you’ll probably be facing each other again. Any comment?”
“Bring it on, Brendan. Bring it on,” Adam said, smiling and winking into the camera.
