I don’t think I’ve ever been under so much pressure in my life. This is my last college football game and the stakes are high. The quarterback always gets blamed for losses.

I could put up amazing stats, but if my linemen aren’t blocking well, I get full blame for the sacks. Since I’m the captain, I think my teammates blame me for losses. They would never say anything to my face, but I still hear the whispers in the locker room when no one knows I’m there.

The way I play tonight could determine my future. We’re not really known as a “football school” so it’s harder to get recognition from professional football scouts than the guys who play in a power conference.

Best-case scenario, I get drafted in the first two rounds. Ideally, I move back home and play in Denver, just like my dad did. We’ve had our differences over the years, but I’d like to experience just a small amount of the glory he had in his professional career. Worst comes to worst, I’ll be a free agent and work out with a few teams and try to earn a spot. Somewhere. Anywhere.

I also really wanted to win this game because my team had never gotten this far. It would mean so much to my coach, my team, and all of the fans if we won this. So many people were counting on me to make it happen.

“Martin,” Coach said, placing his hand on my shoulder. “Are you focused?”

“Yes, coach,” I responded. I was never going to get drafted if I couldn’t focus enough to win this game.

“We’re going to do some things differently in the second half. Their defense has figured out our run game. You’re going to have to make more passes.”

“Okay,” I replied. I didn’t have a lot of confidence in my wide receivers.

“And Martin, try to have some fun out there,” Coach said as we left the locker room.

I ran to the field for the second half with a clear mind and a fresh focus. I saw Alexa, one of the cuter cheerleaders, looking right at me as I neared the sideline. I had a weakness for the way she looked when her hair was blowing in the wind. I tried to put the image of her doing flips and cheering out of my mind.

The first few plays of the second half did not go well. The receivers were not catching the ball. I looked to the sideline for some guidance. My backup and best friend, Reg, was giving me signals for the next play call.

I could always trust him to help me out during tough games. I took the snap and handed it off to Sam. He ran just four yards, but it was good enough for a first down. No one ever needed to tell Sam to focus. The guy was an animal.

After a few rough plays, we were nearly to field goal range. We were still down by eight. I threw a long pass to Donny Jackson. I didn’t care for the kid, but he was the only one open. My perfect spiral landed right into his open hands. Touchdown! He did a stupid little dance in the end zone. He’s lucky he didn’t get a penalty for excessive celebration, or I would have to have some strong words with him.

Coach called me over to the sideline. I was mentally preparing myself for overtime.

“What’s the plan for overtime?” I asked.

“There’s not going to be an overtime,” he replied. “We’re going for the kicker fake. We’re going to finish this now.”

I felt gutted. I always pictured myself standing on the field, having the realization that this was my last play of my college career. Little did I know that moment had passed and I didn’t get the chance to take it in. I trusted my teammates, but I was nervous. I didn’t like it when things were out of my control.

I watched the play, holding my breath the entire time. The ball flew through the air for what seemed like minutes. We got it! The game was over and we won!

I know it’s not possible, but it really seemed like the whole stadium emptied and rushed onto the field by the time I left the sideline. The field became one big party. My teammates jumped up and down and hugged one another. I saw Alexa again and had the sudden urge to pick her up and kiss her.

I resisted, because I knew that would freak her out. Instead, I could just ask her if she was going to the after party. That would be okay. I tapped her on the back, and then panicked. I quickly walked through the crowd, toward the locker room. There would be time to talk later—if she showed up at the party.