We will not lose this game. This will not be my last game and it will not be yours. I refuse to lose!
It was halftime during the Churchill Bulldogs vs. Whitman Vikings football game on November 6th 2009. In the locker room my friend, my teammate, my linebacker, my captain, yelled at us after we heard the scores of the Paint Branch and Springbrook game. Paint Branch beat Springbrook which meant that in order to make the playoffs we needed to beat Whitman.
It was halftime during the Churchill Bulldogs vs. Whitman Vikings football game on November 6th 2009. In the locker room my friend, my teammate, my linebacker, my captain, yelled at us after we heard the scores of the Paint Branch and Springbrook game. Paint Branch beat Springbrook which meant that in order to make the playoffs we needed to beat Whitman.
Bam; 20 minutes of playing time, 2 quarters later, the football chapter of my life was done. Our season was over and for us seniors not playing college ball, we would never play again. The second half began with Whitman scoring a touchdown on the opening kickoff. We blew our lead and Whitman never gave theirs up. Watching them celebrate on my field was painful, but not as painful as the fact that we were self destructive. I broke down into tears on the field as they took a knee to run the clock out. I knew it was over. It struck hard and I spent the last hours of my 17th birthday on the field thinking about what could have been with my teammates.
Sitting at 7 wins and 0 losses through 7 games, we were looking at home field advantage throughout the playoffs. The atmosphere was great, practices were light, conditioning was down, coaches were lenient, and senior year was seemingly perfect. We controlled our own destiny and blew it. We were blind of the ramifications that these great times posed.
These words will forever stay in my head, “For one last time boys, loud and proud, Bulldogs on 3…1 2 3. BULLDOGS”