Just a Story Ch. 04

As everyone cheered, I wasted no time turning to the Auburn-Alabama game on the big television monitor. Auburn had scored with 0:32 in regulation to tie their game with Alabama, 28-28. If Alabama had a field goal kicker worth a shit, I thought to myself, they'd have had this game won. I remember how Alabama had to go to OT to beat the Wildcats in the Natty because their field goal kicker sucked, and missed what would've been a winning FG in regulation.

Doug and Mike came over to watch with us. Alabama's player had run out of bounds at the Auburn 38, and they were reviewing to see if there was one second left, or if time had expired. I knew they'd give Alabama the one second.

I remembered a previous Texas-Nebraska game for their conference championship. In that game, the clock clearly went to '0:00' as a pass went out of bounds and before it landed. But they gave Texas one second and let them kick a field goal to win, and go to the Natty against... Alabama, who thoroughly whipped the Longhorns's butts. Cheated out of their rightful win, Nebraska would leave for the Big 10 within a short period of time, and I did not blame them.

Alabama had a bit better argument in this game, and they got the one second back on the clock anyway. What could it hurt? They kick the field goal, they win. They miss it, they go to OT, right?

The kicker was not the one that had missed the earlier field goals. He was a big guy with the number 99. How many kickers have '99' as their number? Oh well, what can it hurt, right?"

"Better watch out for that guy!" Carole said, pointing at the little white helmet matriculating to the bottom of the screen. There had been a 109-yard missed FG return in the NFL the week before, and now Carole was pointing out the Auburn DB going back to the end zone.

Yeah, give 'em the one second. What can it hurt? Alabama would be re-thinking that in a moment. Auburn Radio's Rod Bramblett and Stan White had the immortal call:

"Chris Davis is going to drop back into the end zone in single safety. Well, I guess if this thing comes up short he can field it and run it out. All right, here we go... 56-yarder, it's got--no, it does not have the legs."

The Bama team was on the left hash. The kicker kicked the ball, but it drifted right, and was short. The Auburn player fielded it, and ran to his left, on the other side of the field from the lumbering pursuit of large Alabama linemen...

"And Chris Davis takes it in the back of the end zone. He'll run it out to the 10, 15, 20, 25, 30, 35! 40! 45! 50! 45!..."

The excitement in his voice rose with the cheering of the Auburn faithful as the player ran past the line of pursuit. He had clear sailing...

"There goes Davis! (Oh my God!) Davis is going to run it all the way back! (Oh my God!) Auburn's gonna win the football game! AUBURN'S GONNA WIN THE FOOTBALL GAME!"

Doug and Mike celebrated mightily as the player scored and his teammates mobbed him. Jordan-Hare Stadium was coming apart at the seams. Fans began running onto the field...

"He ran the missed field goal back! He ran it back 109 yards! They're not gonna keep them off the field tonight! Holy cow! Oh, my God! Auburn wins! Auburn has won the Iron Bowl! Auburn has won the Iron Bowl in the most unbelievable fashion you will ever see! I cannot believe it! 34--28!... Oh, my Lord in Heaven!' Chris Davis just ran it 109 yards and Auburn is going to the Championship game!"

*CHIME!*

It was my personal iPhone. I looked at the text message, and grinned. It was from Teresa, and it was a photo from the stands, above the corner of the endzone where Auburn had scored and were mobbing their teammate. The accompanying text said simply: 'WAR DAMN EAGLE!'...

Jack Burke was a Wildcat fan, as his father had gone to Wildcat School with me and Melina. (Author's note: 'Case of the Murdered Lovers', Ch. 02.) But Doug and Mike were influenced by their adoptive mother, and began singing, yes singing, the appropriate School song:

"War Eagle, fly down the field
Ever to conquer, never to yield
War Eagle, fearless and true
Fight on, you Orange and Blue
Go! Go! Go!
On to vict'ry, strike up the band
Give 'em hell, give 'em hell
Stand up and yell, Hey!
War Eagle win for Auburn,
Power of Dixie Land!"

To be continued.

Author's note: Unfortunately, Rod Bramblett and his wife were killed in a car crash some years later, may they rest in peace. His call of the Kick-Six will live forever...