Going Long
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And Falling Short
Story and Photo by Steve Carr
Go long,” I said to my erstwhile teammate and old friend.
“I still got this,” I muttered to myself as I rolled out to my right and looked for my receiver.
Had he not heard my call? But then there was movement, painfully, awkwardly slow movement. He was pacing himself, conserving, I thought, before the burst of speed I anticipated.
I cocked my arm and released the half-sized football, leading my receiver like I always did—or once upon a time did. The ball sailed in a wobbly spiral, not as gracefully as I had envisioned, but sailed nonetheless against the cloud-peppered sky that seemed to merge and become one with the water.
Then it fell to the beach—ten yards beyond the outstretched arms of my friend.
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