The Quarterback Ch. 02

As the regular season neared its end, Charlotte and I became friends again. She told me about the bank and how they were now in twenty-six states with plans to be in all states except Alaska and Hawaii within five years. Charlotte also asked on behalf of her father that I consider returning to work for the bank. She was willing to transfer to New York City if it made it easier.

I did not commit to anything but told her I would think about it. As much as I told myself I did not want to rekindle things with Charlotte, we drew closer. Then the final blow from Staci came after our Divorce. She announced that Jimmy Washington and her had gotten engaged and planned to be married after the Super Bowl.

I received the news while I was having dinner with Charlotte. She was talking when my phone started to blow up. I glanced at it and saw the announcement about the engagement. My face went pale, and I started to hyperventilate slightly. I immediately got to my feet, reached into my pocket, and pulled out a wad of bills, throwing them on the table.

"I'm sorry," I stuttered to Charlotte. "I have to go."

Alarmed, Charlotte jumped to her feet and chased after me. I reached a park across the street from the restaurant when she caught up to me.

"What's wrong, Jason?" she asked with deep concern.

I showed her the story on my phone, and tears started streaming down my face.

Charlotte looked at the story and then took me in her arms. "I am so sorry, Jason. You don't deserve this."

I clung to her like a drowning man clings to a life preserver. I just cried on her shoulder for a few minutes. Then we disengaged, and I apologized for my emotional display.

"You have nothing to apologize for," she said softly. "Those, on the other hand, deserve each other. Come on, you need a drink. But only one because you have practice tomorrow."

During our drink, Charlotte could not have been more compassionate. We talked about all the times Jimmy had messed up my love life. Charlotte was especially angry about the stunt that broke us up.

"I don't know why it hurts so much," I finally admitted. "Jimmy and Staci have been living together since she went to New York. Still, it hurts, and I know I will have to put up with a bunch of shit in the locker room tomorrow."

After talking some more, Charlotte calmed me down. She also gave a few suggestions on handling the ribbing I expected from my fellow players.

Three young players were always ragging on someone. Today it was all going to be directed at me. First, it was Sammy Botts, "Hey, Jason, how does it feel to be a cuckold?"

"Well, Sammy," I said with a nasty grin. "I would not expect you to know this since you have trouble understanding the playbook, but I am no longer married to Staci. Therefore, by definition, I cannot be a cuckold."

This brought a laugh from other players within hearing distance, but it did not stop the razzing. It was Sid Locker, who fancied himself a lady's man with his big cock.

"Jimmy must be having the time of his life, slipping his salami to your ex-wife," he laughed.

"Well, you could get the same pleasure," I offered. "All you need is a seventy-five-million-dollar contract and big cock. You have the cock, but what do you make, seven hundred thousand? That will not cut it, my friend, and unless you have some game we have not seen, I don't see you getting anywhere close to seventy-five million. Besides, she hates big fat linemen. But understand, I love my lineman. They keep me upright and safe."

Then I swung around to Billy Ray Johnson. "And don't even start Billy Ray. You don't make near enough either, and that little thing between your legs wouldn't interest her at all."

The locker room exploded in laughter. After that, the kidding died out when my would-be tormentors realized I did not care and was ready to give as good as I got.

Little by little, I pushed Staci out of my mind. Of course, it helped that Charlotte and I grew closer. We were dating once again, and it felt like old times. Comparing the two women showed me that I had married the wrong one. I should have listened to Carl and waited for Charlotte to calm down. It was just that I was so hurt by her actions.

The regular season ground to an end, and we made it into the playoffs as a wild card team. Coach Sullivan was a genius, and the City of Jacksonville was ecstatic. They had not been to a playoff game in ten years. Now in his first year at the helm of the Jaguars, Coach Sullivan had turned the team completely around.

Our first game was on a Saturday against the Tennessee Titans. It was a nailbiter all the way down to the last second. The Titans led the entire game until I marched the team down the field to the Titans' twenty-nine-yard line with three seconds to go. Then our place kicker, Charlie Sabo, put it through the uprights, giving us a 16-14 win.

After the win, I was on cloud nine. I suspected that almost everyone in Jacksonville felt the same way. But for me, I had started the season expecting to be backing up Joe Connors since he had been their number one draft pick. And after I began starting, I fully expected to be replaced by Joe before every game. Yet, that never happened, and we made it into the wild card playoff game and won. At that moment, Staci seemed totally insignificant.

I had already planned to have dinner with Charlotte, win or lose, after the game. And we savored the win together. After dinner, I even invited her to my home for a nightcap. I was not expecting anything; I just didn't want the day's euphoria to end. But Charlotte was all over me as soon as I closed the front door. We barely made it to the bedroom before all our clothes were off. We made love three times that night, and it felt like Charlotte and I had never broken up. Still, I was afraid we were moving too fast, so we talked and agreed to slow things down.

The next week, I did not get to see much of Charlotte, but we talked every morning. I was busy preparing to face Pittsburgh that Sunday in a game that no one thought we had a chance. Apparently, no one bothered to tell us because our defense came up big, and our running game churned out the yardage. After handing the Steelers a 28 - 14 pounding, we boarded our plane in a jubilant mood. Next was the NFC Championship game, where we would face the Cleveland Browns.

On paper, the Browns were a much better team than we were. And to make it worse, the temperature predicted in Cleveland was supposed to be in the single digits. Again, we were given no chance, but our team ignored the cold and fired on all cylinders. The field at FirstEnergy Stadium was frozen, and the winds were gusting at 25 - 30 miles per hour. Passing was going to be problematic, so we relied on our ground game and defense. In the end, we stunned the Browns 13 -10. Now it was on to the Super Bowl. The City of Jacksonville was going crazy.

While we were struggling our way through the playoffs, the Giants had pretty much a cakewalk. They had beaten New Orleans 38 - 20 and then dumped Green Bay 37 -14. However, I was pleased that Jimmy had not played particularly well. He had not given up a touchdown throughout the season, but he had given two in the playoff games.

I worried about the two weeks between the AFC/NFC championship games and the Super Bowl. During this time, the players would be subjected to all kinds of hype and media attention. So, I spoke to the team before the craziness started. I told them to enjoy the festivities but keep their minds focused on why we were there - to win the Super Bowl. I also told them that many players never get a chance to play in a Super Bowl, and to get here and lose because we were not prepared would be criminal.

During the two weeks until the Super Bowl, I learned that Staci would be a sideline commentator for CBS. That news irked the shit out of me. I told the Jaguars' PR department that I would not talk to my ex-wife. They told me that I was contractually obligated to give interviews. I countered by saying that I would talk to any other reporter but would not talk to Staci. I was informed that the league could fine me if I refused. I told them I would pay the fine, but I was not talking to Staci. I ended the discussion by telling them would be creating a hostile work environment by making me talk to my ex-wife. I then leaked the story to the media that Staci had been cheating on marriage with a player on the other team. At that point, the NFL backed off and agreed to use other reporters to interview me. I know that had to frost Staci's ass because she came out looking like a tramp, which hurt her career. She was no longer seen as the sweet housewife.

Also, during the two weeks leading up to the big game, Jimmy kept telling anyone who would listen that he owned me. And the sad fact was that the one time we played the Giants, he had owned me. It was like he could read my mind. So, I was determined to do everything I could to ensure that did not happen again. To this end, I spent dozens and dozens of hours studying tape on Jimmy and then studied our game against the Giants.

I was looking to see if I had any tells that Jimmy could be reading. At first, I didn't see anything obvious, nor did the coaches. But finally, around eleven o'clock one night, I was pretty sure I had figured out the problem. There was a small difference when I studied how I played against other teams and compared it to how I played against the Giants. It was very subtle, but it was the only thing I could find.

After poring over every play, what I found wasn't anything I'd done at the line of scrimmage. It happened as we broke the huddle. If we called a pass play, I would glance a Jimmy. If it was a running play, I did not look his way. It seemed stupid, but the more I watched the films, the more I believed this was what Jimmy was keying on. I showed it to the coaches, and they agreed, so we put together a game plan with that tell in mind.

Jimmy was still faster than ninety percent of the receivers in the league, but we had someone almost as fast. I also learned that if you overloaded the side opposite Jimmy with receivers, he would cheat to the middle of the field. When Jimmy felt sure we would run the ball, he would move up quickly to fill a gap. If what I believed Jimmy was doing was correct, I should be able to exploit the situation. One thing I promised myself, Jimmy was not going to dictate this game.

It is hard to explain the emotions that run through you just before the Super Bowl. Me, I wanted to vindicate Coach Sullivan for his faith in me. So, as I sat waiting for the start of the game, I kept telling myself to take it one play at a time. If a play fails, forget it, and concentrate on making the next one successful.

About twenty minutes until game time, the door opened, and the owners came in. I was surprised to see my old boss, Carl Domino, with them.

"Jason, I'm really glad to see you again," he said as he shook my hand. "I wanted to stop by and tell you that I am delighted that you and Charlotte are friends again. Now, go out and beat the hell out of the Giants."

"We're certainly going to it our best shot," I said with a grin. "We may have one or two surprises for them."

The Giants were heavily favored because they had arguably the best defense in the NFL that year, and their offense was potent in its own right. And while our defense had come up big in the three games we'd played so far in the postseason, no one thought they could contain the Giant's offense. But any thought that this game would be a defensive struggle went by the wayside in the first quarter. The Giants got the ball first and marched down the field to score. When we got the ball, we went down the field, following our game plan except avoiding Jimmy's side of the field.

When we reached the Giants' thirty-two-yard line, our drive faltered slightly. It was third down and two yards to pick up the first down. A quick glance at Jimmy saw him smirking. I could almost see the wheels turning in his brain. He was already preparing to tell everyone that he won the Super Bowl because I was afraid to pass to his side of the field. It was time to start messing with Jimmy.

When we broke the huddle, I did not look at Jimmy. He immediately started to cheat up toward the scrimmage line. I faked the handoff and Jimmy bit. Out tight end, Matt Bradford, pretended like he was going to block but then burst into the open. I hit Matt, and he raced easily into the endzone for a touchdown.

Then we each traded field goals. However, with five minutes to go in the half, New York moved quickly with three great passes and scored putting them up 17 - 10. But I had a little over two minutes left, so I started back down the field and kept mixing up the tells to confuse Jimmy. I finished the drive with a seventeen-yard pass to Billy Swill when he got half a step on Jimmy due to his uncertainty. The half ended 17 - 17.

The second half started out the same as the first. However, we had the ball first. We ran the ball eight times with only one screen pass. Ray Thompson, our fullback, powered in from the three-yard line. But the Giants came roaring back with a touchdown of their own.

We traded punts, which were the first two of the game. Then we had the ball on our twenty-nine-yard line with a third down and five yards. The coaches called for a screen pass on the opposite side from Jimmy. But New York had already sniffed out the play, so I looked over to Jimmy's side. He had cheated toward the center of the field, and by the time Jimmy adjusted, Billy Swill had a step on him. I dropped the pass right over Jimmy, and Billy outraced him to the endzone.

Jimmy had told everyone he owned me, and I had burned him for three touchdowns. But I was not thinking about that. I was totally focused on winning this game.

New York came back and scored a touchdown and a field goal to finish out the third quarter. They were now up 34 - 31.

The fourth quarter seemed to settle into a defensive struggle, except that the Giants added another field goal to go up 37 - 31.

We took over the ball on our own twenty-one-yard line with less than four minutes to go. We ran three straight running plays, picking up twelve yards and a first down. I smiled when I saw what the coach wanted to do. He had overloaded Jimmy's side of the field with receivers.

I could see that Jimmy really wanted to make a big play as he had been terrible so far. So, I called a play with Jay Wilder and Brad side by side with Billy behind. All three began sprinting down the field. Two safeties and Jimmy moving with them. A linebacker had also moved into the area. Then Brad planted his foot and broke for the sideline. Jay planted and broke for the center of the field. Billy took two more steps and planted like he was going to break to the sideline. But Jimmy saw me looking at Brad, and took a step in that direction. That was all Billy needed because he straightened his route and broke past Jimmy. Realizing his mistake, Jimmie tried to reverse direction but slipped and landed on his ass. I hit Billy in the hands, and he raced sixty-seven yards to the endzone.

We were now up 38 - 37 with two minutes and thirty-seven seconds. After the kickoff, the Giants immediately began moving down the field. With three quick passes, they were on our twenty-one-yard line. But then the Giants called two running plays that netted them a minus three yards. It was now third down and thirteen, so they tried to hit a crossing pattern, but our cornerback Jack Willard intercepted it. Unfortunately, he was tackled at the one-yard line.

Coach Sullivan called two straight running plays, which were stuffed for no gain. New York had used two of their three timeouts, so we had not used much of the clock. If we didn't make a first down in the next play, we would have to punt from deep in our endzone. This would give the Giants a chance to block the punt, or at the very least, they would have great field position. Even worse, they would have enough time to put themselves in field goal range to win the game.

Everyone knew we had to pass, so we lined up in a shotgun formation. My offensive line gave me great protection, so I scanned the field three times. But everywhere I looked, our receivers were being blanketed by the defense. Finally, I saw the left side was open and took off downfield. When I had gained about five yards, Jimmy realized what I was doing and moved to intercept me. We collided about eight yards from the line of scrimmage. I gathered all my frustration and hatred for Jimmy, lowered my shoulder, and drove into him. I pushed him back some, but I had no idea how far.

I rolled off Jimmy and stood as the referees hustled the chains out to measure for a first down.

"You didn't make it, white bread," Jimmy snarled at me from where he sat on the turf, rubbing his left knee.

"I think we did," I smirked at him.

"But whether we made it or not, Jimmy, I humiliated you in front of a hundred million people. If your team loses, you'll be the goat."

"Fuck you," he growled as he struggled to his feet and limped away.

A few moments after Jimmy limped away, cheers and groans filled the stadium. We had made the first down by about an inch. With four more downs and less than a minute to go, all I had to do was take the snap and knell down three times. The Giants used their last timeout after the first snap, but they could no longer stop the clock. After I knelt for the third time, the clock moved to zero. We had beaten the Giants and were now the Super Bowl Champs. I had won a Super Bowl before, but this one was special.

Epilog:

All those years that I wanted to find a way to pay back Jimmy, and I finally achieved it. I had humiliated him in front of the world. He had given up three touchdown passes, and I had bowled over him to seal our victory. I was named the MVP for the Super Bowl, and the New York media brutalized my former nemesis. They blamed Jimmy for the Giants' loss.

And the controversy I had stirred up about Staci was a huge blow to her career. She was no longer seen as sweetness and light. I saw her glaring at me from the sidelines as a fellow reporter was struggling to make his way through the crowd. Then I saw Charlotte and her father with the Jaguar owners. They were heading to the center of the field for the presentation of the Lombardi Trophy.

As I looked at Charlotte's beautiful beaming face, it suddenly became crystal clear. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with this woman. So, before God and the whole world, I gave her a passionate kiss and asked her to marry me. The stunned look on her face changed to a "mile wide" smile. Then with tears sliding down her cheeks, she nodded. The crowd around us was cheering and clapping. Holding Charlotte close, I turned to the CBS reporter, who had finally caught up to me. That whole scene was captured and played over and over on television.

The City of Jacksonville exploded in joy. Despite what had happened in other cities after their teams won championships, there were no riots; just thousands and thousands of happy people. They say that four hundred thousand fans turned out for the parade through the city. And, of course, the endorsement requests came pouring in for Charlotte and me.

Charlotte and I got married on the second Saturday in March. It was the day before Staci and Jimmy's wedding. No, I did not plan it that way. Anyone who knows anything about weddings knows that finding a venue on that short notice is hard. You take what you can get. Still, Staci sent me a nasty text accusing me of trying to upstage her. I showed the text to Charlotte, and we laughed before deleting it without responding.

A couple of weeks after the Super Bowl, I announced my retirement. I knew I could have played another year or two, but I decided to go out on a high note. Besides, Carl had convinced me to return to First Century and help him take the bank into the rest of the States. However, coach Sullivan convinced Carl to allow me to spend a couple of weeks working with the quarterbacks during training camp. Those two weeks would serve a dual purpose. I would get my football fix, and watching those guys working their tails off in the hot Florida sun reinforced my decision to retire.