Mikey
The best thing about football was that it never let you think about anything for too long.
The second Liam barked the play in the huddle, every conversation I’d had over the last twenty-four hours disappeared. John, Macey, marriage, babies… all of it got shoved into the back of my mind as forty seconds became the only thing that mattered.
That’s what made football addictive.
Nothing else existed between the whistles.
The offense broke the huddle, and I settled into my stance, planting my hand against the frozen turf while I looked across at the defensive end lined up in front of me.
He’d been jawing at me all afternoon.
“You boys look cold,” he shouted over the crowd.
I grinned beneath my facemask.
“You talk too much.”
He laughed.
“We’ll see.”
The ball snapped.
He explod
