5
Savannah
December 8, 2006
My arms pumped to the time of the cheerleading chant at the Holy Cross football game my senior year of high school. I executed a little hop step, pressed my body forward, and shook my pom-poms. “Holy Cross! Holy Cross! Holy Cross!”
It was the last play of the game. The Holy Cross Academy boys had the ball, and the quarterback had just gotten into position. The crowd died down from our side as we anticipated what Ash Talmadge was about to do. I shivered in the cold. My fingers had long ago gone nearly blue in the unseasonably cold Savannah winter. But still, my eyes were glued to the number four on his jersey.
They hiked the ball. Ash stepped back, ball in hand, and searched the eligible receivers. Then with one beautifully arced ball, he threw downfield. Hi
