Emergency Quarterback

It was 8 am when I got the call...

It was Moe Green and he was in a panic. He had set up a flag football game at Baker Park, but the guy who was supposed to play Quarterback had gotten a last minute hook-up for Redskins vs. Raiders tickets.

I was previously invited to play in the game but had declined... Of course Moe Green doesn't accept "no", and after two weeks of harassment I finally agreed that I would play in the game, but only as a last resort emergency replacement. And then only if I could be Quarterback.

Most of the guys in the group are pretty reliable, so I didn't think I'd get the call. To be honest, I wasn't really sure if I wanted to get the call or not. On the one hand, playing QB is fun. But on the other hand, what if I went out there and sucked? I'd never hear the end of it. My friends can be brutal.

So when I got to the park and saw all the guys awaiting my arrival, I was a little nervous... I mean, not "I'm about to give a speech in front of the whole class-" nervous, but still, there were some butterflies.

Early on my performance was so-so. I was good on all the short passes, but my accuracy disappeared on the deep throws. I was holding my own, but I could see some "why is this guy playing Quarterback?" faces starting to appear.

But then as the game went on and I got into a rhythm, I started hitting the deep throws as well.

Everything was clicking. I was reading the defense, making all the throws, I even called a trick play where I caught a TD pass! I doubt there has ever been a 325 pound Quarterback making the plays I made.

Then, just when I was thinking about sending out my resume to the Redskins, I got hit with a dose of reality... Right between the eyes.

There was one player who kept bitching the whole game about not getting the ball enough. I'd hit one of his teammates with a picture perfect touchdown pass, and as we were running up the field to celebrate he'd say "I was wide open on that play, why didn't you throw it to me?!"

When I did throw him the ball, he'd drop it. There was another play where I threw him a perfect pass but he had to slow down because his pants were falling down. The ball ended up sailing over his head. Everyone rolled their eyes in disgust. Instead of saying "Sorry guys," his response was to blame me: "I was so surprised that you actually threw me the ball that I wasn't ready to catch it."

I hadn't thrown an interception all game, yet he was bitching like Terrell Owens. Finally I decided to shut him up once and for all. "Go deep, the ball will be there," I said in the huddle, gritting my teeth.

As I dropped back to pass, the wannabe Terrell Owens ran down the field. He was being covered by Moe Green's "little" cousin Brad who stands about 6'4" and is the best player on his High School Football team.

I knew I shouldn't throw the pass, the receiver wasn't open, and it would be about a 45 yard throw (which is about 5-10 yards out of my range)... but I had given him that cocky little "the ball will be there" speech... Plus my ego was soaring and I had myself convinced that I was the second coming of Joe Montana.

So I let loose, putting every ounce of strength I had on the throw.

"Uggggghhhh," I felt every muscle near my shoulder stretch and burn. My hamstring twisted into a knot and I fell to one knee.

I looked up and saw my pass hang in the air, seemingly suspended by time. For just a brief moment I held out hope that it would reach it's destination... but then, of course, it began it's long inevitable fall back to earth.

It fell about 5 yards short of the target. Everyone scrambled to position themselves below the ball... Just as I feared, it fell right in the hands of the defender. The clock struck midnight, I had turned back into a pumpkin. Game Over.

Not to mention my arm felt like it might fall off!

In the end, I had played a good game. I only threw that one interception, and I was certainly not the only person who had to limp back to their car... And so what if I won't be able to pour myself a glass of milk all week without a sharp pain shooting through my arm. I had fun.

And the next time Moe Green needs an emergency Quarterback, I won't think twice about answering the phone. (I will however, think twice about trying to be Joe Montana.)