A high school football game.

Two Missed Kicks

There were bright lights acting as the sun above that were making it possible to play a football game at night.  It was as close to a perfect temperature as it could possibly be.  The competition was also close to perfect.  It was the first and second place teams, in the high school region, playing each other.  One team was playing to keep their position as first.  The second team was playing to create a tie for first place.

The stands were filled by the time I arrived.  The West side was filled with people wearing the red of their school colors.  The East side was filled with people wearing the blue of their school colors.  I was sitting on the East side.  Noise was rising up all around me and it was echoed right back from the other side.  It got louder as the game progressed and came to a climax during the last three minutes of the contest.

The leading team had a slight, one point edge and was on defense as the clocked clicked down to 2:59.  As the time remaining declined, so did the yardage to a possible score.  People were screaming everywhere.  They were urging their team to victory.  And then, with only eight or so seconds left in the game, the red team’s field goal kicker began to jog onto the field.

The ball was hiked to the holder.  The kicker struck the ball with his foot.  The crowd on the West cheered wildly believing that the kick would be good.  Then, suddenly the crowd on the East erupted in untamed glee as they watched the referee signal that the kick was missed.  But, there was a penalty flag flying through the air and everyone watched as it hit the turf!

We watched the referee pick up the ball and begin to march, his death march from my perspective, fifteen yards closer to the goal.  The players lined up again.  One side hoped for a three or six point outcome and the other side hoped for the score to remain the same.  But, there were two lives that would be forever changed.

The Kick rose from the turf upon impact from the kicker.  All of the fans held their breath.  The players stood as statues with their gaze fixed on the ball and the goal.  The ball passed the goal, but didn’t yield any points.  The people around me were thrilled and relieved.  Their team was victorious!

While merry clamor was occurring all around me my attention and eyes were riveted to one boy still standing on the field.  I watched as his head lowered toward the ground and he walked alone toward his team huddled together at the side lines.  My heart went out to him because I knew he would face personal turmoil as a result of his failure to secure victory for his fellows.  He had no chance to redeem himself, the game was over.

The stands began to empty.  The parking lot was filled with lights heading toward home.  I stayed and watched.

The boy sat on his helmet with his head in his hands at the South end of the field.  He was alone in his grief.  At least that’s what I thought.

I began to walk the long distance toward him hoping to ease his torment.  But I wasn’t fast enough to reach him before two police officers left their posts and soon stood at his side.  They were speaking to him in kind, reassuring tones.  I couldn’t hear their words but I could see their smiles.  I could see the boy’s head lift in response.  I could see his countenance lighten with gratitude.   I don’t know if the officers knew the boy.  That didn’t matter.  The thing that mattered was that when they saw someone in need, they stepped up and offered a hand of relief.

There are people in need of relief all around us.  Sometimes they are alone in the middle of a packed stadium.  Sometimes they are shut up in their homes.  In order to see them we need only to open our eyes and see through the people or the walls that separate them from us.  Everyone matters and what we do to help each other matters. 

Reach out to someone today.  It will change both of your lives.