Hot Rod Ford Ch. 10

Hot Rod Ford Ch. 10

This is the final story in this series, or at least in this part of the series. I love the characters, but they need time to grow intellectually and bond, so I'm leaving them to make their own way for a while. Hope you've enjoyed the stories, even if they didn't occur on the time schedule we all wish they had.

My wife will have her third back surgery of the past twelve months on the 30th of July, so I return to my nursing duties for a few months. Send a prayer up for her, if you do such things, and give her/us a kind thought if you don't. I appreciate you guys, and hope to add more stories to 'Slapped Upside the Head' when I can.

The National Championship Tournament, and Hailey

You will probably have to review Chapter 9, but here is the ending - After showering and gathering his personal gear, Rod turned on his phone. Noting from Hailey, but two calls from Angie.

"Rod, Hailey is in the Peter Lougheed Medical Center in Calgary. We found her passed out and took her to the emergency room there. She's still unconscious. Please call me." The second was similar, but shorter and begged him to call.

He found Sark, let him listen, and said, "I'll be there tomorrow night for team meetings." Sark said to go, to be careful, and to let them know how she is.

Rod found a highly rated charter service online, called, and headed for their hanger. While waiting, he checked the internet for reports of assaults, overdoses, and sexual assaults in Calgary, but found nothing. He'd try again in route, but he was too angry to call Angie. There was no fucking reason for Hailey to be out drinking when she should have been sleeping so she could catch the flight to LA!

****

By the time the charter reached the continental divide, Rod had read everything available about the incident, and had sent a text to the TV reporter who had broken the story of Hailey's previous assault in the mob-affiliated night club. She was a notorious night owl, and she called him only minutes later.

She had names and some details, but said the cops were playing this one really close to the vest. "Her name isn't listed on any documents, but I've learned it is Hailey, and that she was with her aunt Angie, a fellow show jumper named John Keck, and his driver, David Welker. Because there are no facts to go on, other than the early eyewitness accounts, much of the following are assumptions, but - it seems they were in a dance club and got very drunk. By 'very drunk' I mean staggering, falling down, and passing out drunk! Hailey was dancing with John most of the time, and he was reportedly holding her up when they left. She was found passed out on the parking lot of the club by others going to get their cars. They called emergency services, and she was taken to a nearby hospital with a good ER.

"I wasn't assigned to the story, but knowing now who it is, I think I can get it reassigned to me. If so, I'll see what the young reporter they assigned has, and I'll get back to you. Do you know anything else?"

"I got a message from Angie saying she was in the hospital and she was unconscious; nothing else. Please text or email me if you come up with anything at all. I'm going to call the officer who handled her previous case when it gets daylight, unless her family can tell me what happened and who is responsible.

"Like last time, I'll share as appropriate, but you may have to sit on this one, or even flush it. She's not an innocent 19 year-old, and her associations are going to try to kill it, regardless of the story. She's too important to them. And I don't want it to get out either, unless there is no choice.

"Here's my problem Anita. She was supposed to catch an early flight out of Calgary and be in Los Angeles at nine a. m. Being out at a dance club falling down drunk at eleven p. m. the night before is not congruent with those plans, so either she made a King Kong size fuck up, or someone did something that resulted in this situation. I don't know which one it is, but if her situation is due to something done by Keck and/or Welker, I want a King Kong-size piece of his or their asses!

"So I'll be dividing my time between sending her good thoughts and prayers, and learning all I can about her 'friends' David and John!"

He had ninety minutes to learn all he could, but that got cut in half by a call from Jack. "Rod, I hear you're on your way up here and I want to talk to you before you get here. No, not about Hailey's condition - she's still unconscious, but the doctors are confident she will recover fully. They can't tell us when, nor will they promise us she will recover.

"Apparently, it was a near thing, and had she been brought in an hour later, she'd be dead or brain dead.

"I'll give you a minute to think about that, and get on to the other reason for my call."

"You mean Angie, who was supposed to get her safely on the plane yesterday at 6 a. m.?"

Jack's sigh was answer enough, but he needed to say it, so he forged ahead. "I do. And let me tell you, she's the most distraught and guilt ridden woman in Canada - maybe the world! When you hear the story you'll see that it isn't ALL her fault, but she bears the cross on this one!

"All I'm going to ask is that you be civil and let her tell you the whole story before you react. She just knows you are going to hate her, and even worse, she knows Hailey is in this situation mostly because of her failures. Can you give her a chance to say her piece before you tear her limb from limb?"

"Never intended to tear her limb from limb, but she and her niece owe me an explanation for being at a dance club with two men at eleven p. m. when Hailey should be in bed, resting for the trip and playoff game. But I'll listen, and then I'll react, as you asked me to, Jack.

"That's all we can ask, Rod. If you'll tell me when you're landing, one of us will be there to meet you."

"Not necessary - my charter has a car service. But you can tell me what you know about John Keck and David Welker."

Another sigh. "David is here with us, and has been since they left the parking lot. You'll have to talk to him about Keck, but we haven't heard or seen anything from him."

"Can you put David on? I have a few questions for him."

He heard Jack call "David! I've got someone who wants to talk to you!"

There was a mild commotion, and a voice said, "Hello?"

"You were traveling with John Keck, so you must be a friend of his. Where is he?"

"Jack said you're Hailey's boyfriend, Rod Ford, and I know you're upset, but I still don't like your tone of voice."

"I'll be there in an hour, and you'll like it a lot less when I ask you that question again! I'm her 6'4" 240 pound pissed off boyfriend, and my girlfriend is in an ICU! She was with you and Keck, so I hold you personally responsible for whatever happened to her! Therefore, you tell me what you know, or I beat it out of you in one hour! Which will it be?"

"I'm not afraid of you, but Jack's listening and he says I damn well should be, so let's try this again. I don't know where John is, and that's the truth! We were driving his truck and it's gone, but Jack says his trailer and horses are still at the ranch, and Angie's dad is watching over them so they aren't going anywhere.

"I don't consider myself a 'friend' of John's exactly, but I do drive for him. I know he's from Columbus, Ohio, his parents are loaded, and he has a history of getting in trouble with them, and the law. This is the first time I know about, since he returned from Europe last summer, that anything like this has happened. At least while I was his driver."

"Thank you. Who would know more about him?"

"I'm not really sure. Let me think about it for a minute, and I'll call you back if I think of someone. Now, Angie would like to talk to you."

"Not right now. We'll talk when I get there."

As they were setting down an hour later, Rod closed his laptop and leaned back in his seat. John Keck was a piece of shit, by any measure! His rich parents had bought off girls who accused him of rape, of fathering their child, of beating them, and of getting them drunk and high on something and letting his friends have sex with them. Six accusation, settlements rather than convictions, and two more cases in which girls received settlements without charges being filed. No matter how cold and dark the bottom of Lake Erie is, it isn't deep and cold enough to be fit punishment for a piece of shit like John Keck, but he knew he might have to settle for it!

It was just after six, but Rod called the case officer from the previous assault on Hailey. The one who kicked ass and took names, not the one who tried to make it her fault! He didn't answer so Rod left a message, and got a return call seconds after he hung up. They had a conversation, Rod gave him what he knew and what he suspected, and he informed Rod that, even though he still had a task force overseeing the local police, they were still not totally trustworthy. He also gave Rod the name of the detective handling her case, and said he was a good one.

He also told Rod that Detective Kraven would have the information Rod had given him, and since he was only five minutes out, he would meet Rod at the hospital entrance.

Kraven was waiting when Rod was dropped off, and he immediately asked Rod to take a walk with him before going up to Hailey's room, or to the waiting room. "This is a mess. I have no doubt a crime was committed, because her blood alcohol level was high enough to kill her, and they also found traces of a designer drug of some sorts. The lab could identify the chemical components, but didn't know the street name.

"The problem is, we don't know if she voluntarily took the drug and drank that much alcohol, or she was slipped a mickey and didn't realize she was drinking 151 proof rum. If she doesn't wake up soon, I'm going to call on the bartender at the club, and see what he says. We also have a drug team headed to the trailer at Hartland to see if we can find some of the drug.

"And, I've got to tell you, until we figure this out, Angie and David Welker are suspects, so please don't share what I've said."

"And Keck? Did he escape back to the US?"

"We have no record of him leaving the country through a border crossing, and we have an all-points bulletin out on him and his truck. Is he still in Canada? I have no idea."

"Please call me if you learn anything about the drug, and I'll let you know if I learn anything. I sent out a 'rodeo APB' on the asshole and his truck an hour ago, so if any of my friends come across him, I'll know."

They walked up the stairs to the ICU waiting room together, which surprised everyone and seemed to give Welker heartburn. Ignoring everyone else, he walked straight to Welker and said, "You didn't call me back, so no name came to mind?"

"No, I'd have called you if it had," he replied in a defiant voice.

"The S. O. B. hasn't left Canada yet, but if he does escape back to mommy and daddy and their attorney, it's your ass that's going to be on the line when they find the drug you were making in the trailer. Law enforcement agents on both sides of the border are already looking into other places you two visited, in hopes of identifying more victims, but that won't matter to you. After manufacturing an illicit drug and using it on unsuspecting females, you will be tried, convicted, and sentenced to twenty years!

"And if they do find more cases, it only makes your sentence last longer!"

David had lived his life turning a blind eye to the misdeeds of others, as long as they didn't affect him. But in this case, John Keck's misdeeds were going to cost him life in prison, and he was scared shitless! Rod saw it in his eyes, nodded at the detective, and said, "I think David wants to talk to you in confidence, Detective."

Kraven nodded, signaled Welker, and they left without another word being spoken. "Any changes?" Rod asked the room. He got negative head shakes, so he thanked Jack for calling him, and asked for her room number. Lisa replied, "It's 2002, but they are only letting family in." Rod nodded his thanks and walked down the hall.

He was close to the entire Hart family, and he felt like a bastard for treating them that way, but he wanted them to understand two things: how pissed he was; and how serious this situation was. Hailey had to awaken, prove her mental faculties and physical assets weren't affected, and recover fully. He didn't know who was at fault, and it might be his girlfriend. But the fairytale in which Angie lived needed to be shaken if not destroyed! She was the grownup in charge of getting Hailey on the flight, and she failed! Being forever young doesn't mean you remain naïve and foolish!

There was no one outside her door, which was closed with a Do Not Enter sign affixed. He opened it and slipped inside. The bed was elevated at the head, so she had the appearance of sitting up, but was unconscious. He sat on the bed beside her, took he hands and warmed them by running them with his, leaned over, kissed her, and said, "Hey, Sweetheart, it's time to wakey wakey! Your boyfriend is here and we need to talk."

She started, her head flew back onto the mattress, and she moaned. The instruments started chiming and sounding alarms, which brought a horde of medical personnel on the run. He moved into the far corner of the room and stood quietly, arms folded, while the room filled and a doctor began checking her eyes and asking questions.

Hailey soon achieved consciousness and answered the doctor's questions, "I have a bad headache, my mouth is dry and tastes terrible, and my stomach is upset, but otherwise I feel okay. Why? Where am I, and why am I here?"

The doctor asked, "What do you remember about waking up? You came awake quite suddenly."

"I heard my boyfriend talking to me and felt him holding my hands. Then he kissed me and told me to wakey-wakey, so I did."

They looked at one another with frowns, so Rod walked forward. "I'm the boyfriend, and yes, that is what happened. When she started jerking around and the alarms went off, I waited in the corner so I'd be out of the way."

"Sir, you have to leave immediately! Detective Kraven has forbidden anyone from talking with her before he does!"

Rod pulled out his phone, dialed, and said, "You best come on up, Detective Kraven. She just awoke and I know you don't want anyone else talking to her before you do. I'll keep this mass of medical people under control, but you need to hurry because she's calling my name and I find her very hard to resist!"

Hailey was indeed calling his name urgently, but she smiled at his remark and waited silently. This was all confusing to her, but Rod was here so it would be okay. She would save her questions for later, when she felt better.

Kraven was there in minutes. All medical personnel except her doctor had exited. He had finished checking her eyes when the detective arrived and he started to leave. "We'd appreciate it if you stayed, Doctor. I know the detective wants to ensure no damage is done by his questioning, and you're the proper arbiter for that decision."

He and I moved to the side opposite the detective, close enough for her to see our reassuring smiles.

The detective nodded in agreement and approached Hailey. "Miss King, are you able to answer questions for me this morning?"

"I'm able, Detective, but I'm not sure I can. I woke up in this room after hearing Rod's voice, and everything else is just a cloud."

"When can you last remember things clearly, Miss King?"

"Please call me Hailey. I know you're here to help me, and I want to help you do that."

She sighed and concentrated for several minutes. "I was with Aunt Angie and two men. I knew John from the tour, but not David. I wasn't friends with him, but I knew him by sight. They were going to take me to a hotel at the airport so I could fly out early the next morning to watch Rod play, but we stopped for dinner. We went for a walk, saw a dance club, and they talked me into going in with them. They promised we'd dance a few times to this techno-rock and then they would take me to the airport.

"I remember dancing, and telling John to keep his hands off my body, but after that it gets hazier and hazier. I remember that he kept buying us some rum drink that tasted good, but made my head spin, so I quit drinking and asked him to take me to the hotel. He asked me for another dance before we left, and I honestly don't remember anything after that."

"Were those your first drinks of the night?"

"No, we had a drink when Angie showed them the cabin, and another on the way to Calgary. We didn't drink at the restaurant, but did in the dance club."

"And how did those first two drinks make you feel, Hailey?"

"I haven't drunk much alcohol in a long time because Rod doesn't and I'm trying to stay in as good of shape as he is, so they definitely had an effect on me. I remember feeling giddy, happy, and excited, but I thought that was because I was flying out to see Rod play in Los Angeles. Why do you ask?"

Kraven looked at Rod and said, "Okay, I thought I'd heard that name. Great game Saturday. I'm a big American college football fan, and Notre Dame is my team because I'm Catholic, but watching you at work was something else! You guys need to rough Ohio State up - I can't stand them!"

"They are definitely a great team. But we think we're a great team too, and we think we're better. So why did you ask when she started drinking?"

At this point, the doctor left, feeling she was not in medical or psychiatric danger.

"I think you already know, but her blood alcohol count was extremely high. She either had to start drinking early and often, or she was being fed very strong drinks. Add the potential effects of the unknown drug, which the lab believes is some kind of altered psychedelic, and she was in a life threatening situation due to depression of her systems.

"I have suppositions but no proof, so hear me out. Hailey, were the drinks extra sweet with a strong taste of various fruits?" She nodded and said yes.

"Did they ever have a taste of bitterness?"

"The second did, and then later I noticed it again while we were in the club. He said it was just the differences in the fresh fruit used in the Sunset Punch, which is what he called the drink."

"Was the zipper stuck on your jumpsuit? I ask because it appeared someone tried to pull it off you, but it got stuck so they tore it."

"No, the zipper worked, but it is very hard to get off over my shoulders. And what do you mean, it looked like someone tried to pull it off of me? Was I raped?"

"That leads us to my suppositions. John fed you high alcohol content rum drinks, and also some designer drug. He intended to get you drunk and compliant, and have sex with you, with or without your consent. His truck was still at the restaurant, so he tried to undress you and have sex with you on the parking lot. That indicates he was also drunk, but sober enough to scramble away when several couples came out and started walking toward you.

"One man and one woman reported seeing a man leaving the scene, and he was reportedly stumbling between a row of cars. They were the ones who called emergency services, and they reported that it was a male, his hair color, and approximate size, but couldn't otherwise describe him."

"So, even if we find him, he's going to get away with it, just as he has in at least six other cases?" Rod asked.

Kraven smiled. "Maybe, maybe not. The crime scene investigators found a couple of clues that we don't want to advertise, but if we find the right person, we will have proof he/she was at the scene, and participated in tearing your jumpsuit up."

"So, DNA, right? You have blood, hair, skin, some excretion, or more than one of those?" Rod asked.

"I can't say, but I'll repeat that I'm confident charges will stick if we can get him in court. Unfortunately, getting a person with wealthy parents extradited from our neighbors to the south may be a problem."

"And our odds of preventing his escape from Canada aren't that great?"

"We have an APB on him, and we have notified the CBSA - our border security agency - to be on alert, so our odds aren't that bad, especially if he isn't aware we're hunting him. He will most likely try to cross as soon as possible, so from Alberta into Montana, or from Saskatchewan into North Dakota. He could stay in Canada and cross as far away as Minnesota or Michigan, but I doubt it. He'll want to cross as soon as possible."

"Airports? Private airports? He's got money, so a charter isn't a problem. Or maybe Daddy will send a plane for him."

"Yes, the RCMP has notified all other means of transport. He may wiggle through the net, but it won't be easy."

Hailey finally spoke up. "I appreciate all you're doing, but nothing really happened, did it? He got me drunk and tried to rape me but didn't. Why all the effort?"

"There is also the matter of the drug in your system, and also in Angie's, but not in David's. Drugging two women without consent is illegal and carries a stiff sentence. And to be honest, you're a national treasure. You get special treatment."

Hailey looked shocked at her 'national treasure' label, before remembering the crowds she, Smoke, and Jupiter drew in cities across Canada during her whirlwind tour immediately after the Olympics. She smiled internally, but merely nodded to the detective.

As satisfied as he could be under the circumstances, Kraven again swore Rod and the national treasure to secrecy, said there were guards outside that would remain until she was released, and again wished Rod well in the OSU game. He left promising to update Rod if anything changed.

Rod lay down on her bed and held her, never raising the questions he had about her thought processes that night. Angie might yet get an ass chewing, but if they had only good intentions and were given some drug that affected decision-making as soon as they got in the truck at Hartland, he couldn't find good cause to fault either.

John, and David if he was complicit in any way, yes. He or they were going to get the ass kicking deserved, even if it was back in the good old US of A!

Hailey had come far enough along that she realized she missed the Notre Dame game in Los Angeles, and that the Longhorns were playing Ohio State for the championship. Extrapolating other facts from the conversations just finished, she never made it to the hotel that night. She drank 'Sunset Punch' made with potent rum, and some drug had been added to that. Though she didn't remember dancing after the first few, with David and John, she must have stayed there for a while, because she was brought to the hospital around midnight! If only she had made them take her to the hotel!

"Rod, I'm so sorry I missed the plane, your family, missed your game, and missed the celebration! I don't understand why things like this happen to me - I must have been born under a cursed star! But I swear to you, all I remember is wanting to go to the hotel so I could get a good night's sleep and make the plane, and people promising me we would go after supper, then after a couple of dances!

"I heard the detective say that Angie had a drug in her drink too, so I guess that explains why she went along with John's plans rather than getting me to the airport, but I'm still kind of mad at her. Which means you are probably kind of mad at both of us, even if you believe we were drugged."

"I'm not mad at anyone right now. The decisions you and Angie made were very likely the result of the strong rum and the drug, whatever it was. Let's leave it at that until we know more about what you were given.

"The one thing I'm sure of is that John Keck is going to get his ass handed to him if I find him, whether sooner or later. It's obvious that you were his target, although Angie makes a nice icing for his dastardly cake, and he will pay for that, with strips of his hide, if not in prison!

"Now - how are you feeling?" "My headache is about gone, my churning stomach has settled, and otherwise I feel fine," she replied.

"So you will do everything in your power to make it back to school as soon as the doctors will let you?"

"Of course! I know you need to get back, and I want to go with you!"

"Then let's meet with your family and get them settled down, and see what the doctor says at one, which is when he said he would return."

Rod went and got the family from the waiting room. Jack looked as distraught as Hailey's mom, and Aunt Angie looked like 'warmed over death,' as they used to say in south Texas! But an hour later Angie had been consoled and assured she wasn't to blame, but they couldn't tell her why.

She told them she would be talking to the detective in his office at two, and Rod told her she would know as much as they did after that conversation. The others were relieved by how good Hailey looked and sounded, and by her plans to return to Austin today, or as soon as she was allowed by the medical staff and detective. It was almost as if the past thirty-six hours never happened to Hailey, which was definitely preferable to crying, worrying, pacing, dozing, and praying for most of that time, like her family and friends had done.

Rod went into the hall to check in with Coach Milwee, told him Hailey was recovering nicely, and asked if practice was at five in the indoor facility, as planned. Rod thanked him and said he would do his best to be there. He then chartered a Cessna Citation X+ for his return flight. It would be brought to Calgary from a larger city, and would be ready to leave at 1:00 pm.

The Citation X+ can fly over 700 mph, but even more importantly, as a private jet it can fly far above commercial aircraft, avoiding so many of the issues that slow aircraft down, and significantly cutting time across equal distances. Rod knew the cost was high, but his commitment to the team was more important than cost in these circumstances!

He then went hunting for Doctor Hall, and asked point blank if there was any way Hailey could be released at noon to travel with him by private jet. Hall stammered and stuttered, but finally admitted he couldn't hold her if the labs being conducted now were okay. Rod thanked him, went back to the hall and called Detective Kraven.

"If I promise to send her back if you need her to identify someone or give sworn testimony, or whatever, can she go to Austin with me at noon?"

Kraven laughed. "If it were anyone else but you and our national treasure, I'd say hell no! But right now we can only conduct a manhunt and work the evidence, so, okay! And if I do need her, I promise it won't be until after the game Saturday. Again, good luck!"

After returning to the room, Rod addressed the family. "Well what do you think? Is she doing okay?"

"Well, I'd say she's doing just dandy!" Jack exclaimed. "I sure didn't expect, but I'm dang glad to see it!"

"Claire, what do you think? Moms are always the worst worriers."

"I agree with Gigi! It's a miracle, after the trauma we suffered through between Friday night and this morning!"

"Well, I've talked to Detective Kraven and he has no need for her until at least next week. I talked to Dr. Hall, and he says if this morning's labs are good, he can't hold her if she wants to leave. So, National Treasure, want to take a 700 mile per hour jet to Austin with me? We have to leave for the airport by noon if you do."

"Do you think they would at least loan me a pair of scrubs?" she replied with a giggle. "This gown is breezy and my jumpsuit is evidence!"

"I'm sure if the National Treasure asks, she shall receive! If not, we can tie that gown tightly to avoid too much exposure."

Mom nearly burst a gut at the very idea, but with five for and one against, she lost, and Hailey called the nursing station.

It took a few minutes to find size 4 scrubs, and it was good that those had a drawstring. The labs came back clean about the time the clean scrubs were found, and she borrowed flip-flops from Angie because her shoes were also evidence. The Treasure had a grand sendoff by the staff and her parents, and Kraven provided a ride to the airport, siren screaming and lights on. They got there in time to watch the Cessna descend, land, refuel, and taxi to the luxury private terminal.

"Good afternoon, Sweet Lady King and Rod Ford!" said a deep voice with a thick Texas twang. "My pilot heard the call go out and we were in the neighborhood, so we took the job. Welcome aboard, and grab a seat - we're Texas bound at just below the speed of sound!"

Hailey was shocked at the greeting, and highly impressed by the large, well-dressed gentleman who took her hand as she entered the plane, kissed the air above it, complemented her fashion sense, and then greeted Rod like an old friend! "HR Ford - what kind of shit did you get into this time, Boy?"

"Bill Harlan!" Rod exclaimed, "What the hell are you doing here in Canada running an air taxi service?

They grabbed each other up, shook hands, hugged, and then beat each other on the back. "Take your seats, gentlemen and lady, or we'll be late!" the pilot declared, and they did just that.

"Before you call mom and dad, Bill, let me assure you I'm not the one who got into the shit this time." He nodded at Hailey, and Harlan said, "I know. As soon as I got your call, I sent my dogs to digging, and learned what happened."

Turning to Hailey, he said, "Sweetheart, you can bet your bottom dollar we'll get to the bottom of this, and the man or men behind it will be brought to justice! It might be justice Texas-style, but Mr. John Keck is going to get a taste of the pain he's been dolling out to young women for a decade or more! And I already called his momma and daddy and warned there would be no bailing him out this time, if his daddy wants to keep his business! I'm his biggest buyer, and if I cut him off, he shuts down!

"I just talked to him today, but I trust Detective Kraven. He says they are going all in on this one, and they'll get him. I told him if they didn't, he might just befall a fate worse than being drugged and raped, so for humanitarian reasons, I would be supporting his efforts. He laughed about that, and like I say, he seems like a good old boy, so I hope he does.

"Sugar, do you know what he called you? 'Our national treasure!' I love that! Hell, HR, you might be a Longhorn legend after the Saturday game, but I'm not sure you'll ever be a 'national treasure' no matter what you do!"

"It just goes to show you how they feel about their equestrian teams in civilized countries, Uncle Bill!" The two men laughed and clasped each other.

By this time Hailey had caught on enough to stick out her bottom lip, frown, cross her arms, and give them her pouty face. Bill saw it first, looked at her, saw that it was pure put on, and told Rod, "Damn, Boy, you don't stand a chance! A girl that can look that precious by just pouting? You'll give her anything she wants! I would!"

Rod put on his shamed face and knelt before her. He put his hands on her thighs, and said, "I'm sorry, Honey, we didn't mean it. It's just that two old rodeo tramps like us aren't sophisticated enough to properly appreciate equestrian champions like you!"

She put her foot on his chest and pushed him over, though it took his cooperation to do it. Had he resisted, she was pretty sure she would have only pressed herself further into her chair. He rolled over, sat down pow-wow style, and made his best sad face at her, while Bill chuckled.

She wanted to keep pretending, but he looked so cute sitting there she just burst out laughing, got up, turned around, and took a seat between his legs. She leaned her head back until she was looking at him upside down, and waited for the kiss she knew was coming. She got it, and hands placed dangerously close to her bra-less boobs.

She didn't know who 'Uncle Bill' was, but he obviously had a lot of money and influence, and she was not going to let her boyfriend seduce and fuck her right in front of him, which is what she feared would happen if he tweaked her nipples! It had been a week, and she was seriously needy!

"Do you two need a bunk?" Bill asked solicitously. "There's one behind that door, and it's sound proofed. You'll also get a cap with '7 Mile High Club' embroidered on it."

Hailey started getting embarrassed, but the laughter of the two men told her it was just another tease. And so she pouted again, until Bill asked, "Are you pouting because your boyfriend laughed at the idea of y'all joining the seven mile high club, and that disappointed you?"

She nodded her head and chewed on her bottom lip, and Bill threw himself back in his chair, laughing so hard he snorted. She maintained her pout while Rod laughed with him, and then Rod stood up, picked her up in a bridal carry, and said, "Sorry Bill, but..."

Bill replied, "Hell, Boy, if you weren't going to, I was! She's about the cutest thing I've ever seen!"

As it turned out, the soundproof cabin wasn't soundproof, and she caught hell from Bill and the pilot when they came out, more than an hour later.

After the hurrahing died down, Bill offered sage advice. "HR, you're my godson and the son I always wanted, but if you don't wrap that up in a bow and marry it, you are one stupid SOB! Not only is she cuter than a basket of kittens, she's got the passion and stamina to keep up with you!"

"How about I focus on beating the Buckeyes this week, and then maybe the national treasure and I can talk?"

Bill gave him a fist to bump, and the cute thing wrapped her arms around him and purred. All four men laughed, and she grinned as if whatever happened two nights ago never happened. Maybe it was better that she was unconscious while he tried to strip and rape her on an asphalt parking lot. Which would become an act John Keck regretted until his dying day, however soon that was.

Two days after he disappeared, Keck began learning the meaning of regret. His parents wouldn't cover for him or provide a lawyer after Bill's warning, but they did put money in his bank account so he could use his debit card for a barrister, or to escape, if possible. As it turned out, it wasn't the law he needed to worry so about; it was the rodeo cowboys that rooted him out and worked him over.

Keck didn't know any of them, but they seemed to take his misuse of women personally, as if the women were their own. He vaguely remembered that Hot Rod Ford was a rodeo star at one time, but he was sure Rod wasn't one of the burly masked men holding him hostage, trussed up with rope, lying on the dirty floor of a horse trailer on straw wet with horse pee and shit. It was nighttime, it was cold, and he was shivering. When they stopped the trailer at what appeared to be a gas station, he began screaming for help, for which he was rewarded with a gag and duct tape covering his mouth.

They took the opportunity to piss on him, and went inside. He tried to kick the side of the trailer, which tightened and then harshly moved the rope between his legs. It hurt so badly he passed out in pain. When he awoke, his crotch was wet with something he suspected was blood, and burned like fire.

The terrain changed, becoming more mountainous, and colder. Keck knew he had frost bite, but his exposed skin no longer hurt, so in a way that was a relief. And then he was drug foot-first from the trailer, his head bouncing on the ground and scrambling his brain, yet he felt every rock and stick and root until they stopped. He was crying in pain and fear, knowing that his judgement day was at hand, and he would soon pay for his misuse of young women and girls.

He was right about paying, but there was no judgement day. The rope between his legs was cut, his pants and underwear were cut off him, and his shriveled cock was grasped by a big hand wearing a glove. He pulled his pecker out as far as he could, and saw Keck's efforts to kick or escape had rope-burned the hell out of his crotch! He laughed, and grasped the little peter that had despoiled so many girls. He took a sharp knife, made his pee slit longer and deeper, and then cut across the head to make a cross.

Keck was screaming into his gag while the ropes were cut away from his body and a towel was pressed over his bleeding peepee hole. "Best press that tightly over your cuts or you'll bleed to death while you walk to the nearest town. You are in northern Idaho, so head down the road the way you're facing.

"Personally, and I speak for all your victims and intended victims, like Hailey King, I hope you bleed to death or die in the cold. But if you do make it and get help, at least none of us will ever have to worry about you raping someone else, cause that little thing you call a cock won't want to be pushed into anything, even something as soft and wet as a pussy!

"So, John Keck, maybe your rich parents can get cosmetic surgery done and save the little that you have left. And maybe you haven't learned your lesson and you will rape or try to rape another girl. If that happens, you will die when a bullet explodes your head from a thousand yards away! That was my preferred ending anyway, but the majority ruled, so you just got ruined, sexually speaking.

"You can go to the cops if you want, but they will only extradite you to Canada to serve a few years or decades in prison. We don't give a shit because you have no idea what we look like, what we drove, or anything else, and we'll be a few hundred miles away by the time you make it to the nearest town anyway. So take this as lesson learned, and try to spend the rest of your life making up for the agony and pain you've caused. You probably understand 'agony and pain' better now, don't you?"

Keck did make it to the next town, with the help of a pickup that found him lying beside the road a few miles south of where he was dropped off. He made a call to his parents, they sent a plane to get him, and that was pretty much the last the Equestrian world, women in general, or Hailey and Rod, heard of John Keck. But Rod did get "DONE" from an unknown account.

****

Coaches Sarkesian and Milwee were waiting at his locker when he returned to the dressing room after his little side trip to Calgary. Milwee raised his watch and said, "He's 18 minutes early, Coach."

"I guess so, when you hitch a ride with Bill Harlan! By the way, he says anytime you need a ride, just call - as long as you bring your girlfriend with you."

"Yeah, he's smitten bad. Last I heard she was watching the game from his private box this week. I'm afraid I already lost her to Sugar Daddy Bill," Rod replied with a straight face.

Sark snorted, hit him with a folder, and said, "Get your mind cleared of everything but Ohio State, or you're going to be watching Bart set new school records!"

"Well, it is his turn to start, and he is due for a huge game, so it might happen anyway. But seriously, thanks for letting me go. I don't know that I contributed all that much besides moral support, but I'm glad I was there."

Sark laid his head to the side and said, "That's not what Bill says. It seems the hospital staff and her family think you made a big difference, and the cop in charge thinks so too. So, okay - but quit manufacturing Olympic finals and assaults to get out of coming to my house on Sundays!" He paused dramatically and added, "Although, come to think of it, it does keep you away from my wife!"

"And all of you away from my girlfriend!" Rod teased in return.

Both practices at home were intense, with no horsing around and a tight focus. They moved to the Peach Bowl in Atlanta Wednesday morning, and had another tough workout. Thursday they had a normal morning workout, and required appearances at the Exhibition Hall, where all kinds of merchandise was sold, and there were interactive games for everyone from children to grandparents. They also had a mandatory meal with the Ohio State players and coaches, and a press availability after.

Saturday they had walk-through (half-speed) workout in the stadium, to further acclimate themselves to the turf and the dimensions of the stadium. Regarding the turf, each player picked the cleats he thought would be best from suggestions of the training staff, and tried them out in practice. As to the dimensions, that mattered more to quarterbacks and receivers, because sidelines and endlines seemed tighter in some domed stadiums. The lighting mattered also, which is why their Friday workout was at twilight and after dark, following all the obligations for that day, and their family time.

His parents and Ford grandparents had paid a premium price to acquire enough tickets for his parents and Grandparents to sit behind and beside Hailey and his sisters, so they were flying to Atlanta Thursday morning, picking Hailey up on the way. The team was staying at the Marriott located closest to the championship site, while his family and Hailey were at the nearby Westin.

The days were booked, though they did talk to their families and friends at the autograph area on Thursday. They had position meetings at 4, ate supper together at 5:30, and were free from then until 9pm bed check. Rod spent that time with his family and Hailey. On Thursday, they picked him up and took him to their hotel; on Friday they came to his. It was a good time to unwind, relieve the building tension for a few minutes, and enjoy his family and girlfriend.

Win or lose, the team wasn't flying back until Sunday afternoon, and any members selected for interviews and appearances early next week would remain with the AD and Texas Communications Director, also known as the SID. That list was TBD, of course, but Rod had to keep it in the back of his mind. Bart seemed primed, but if he failed to produce, Rod was more than ready, and he also had 'his' quarters to play. Any CFP Championship Game records Bart set, Rod intended to break when it was his turn.

Not that he gave a damn about records or stats, but they were playing for a championship, and THE Ohio State players had been cocky, disrespectful bastards every time they were forced to be together by the playoff committee. To make it all more enraging, Stanley Keck, John's father, was a major Buckeye booster! Rod was steadily nearing his boiling point more than 96 hours from Kickoff!

Bill Harlan was also staying at the Westin. He, his wife, and two of his five grown children were with Rod's family when he entered the reserved team ballroom Friday, and there was a lot of joshing from the moment he arrived.

Bill's thirty-two-year-old son was sitting beside Hailey. Will was 'the most eligible bachelor in Chicago' and a renowned pussy hound. He had dated A-list actresses and models, wealthy socialites, and European royalty... much like Hailey, who had dated the male side of the same list. They knew more than a few people in common and were having a legitimate conversation when someone loudly announced, "He's here!"

Will immediately scooted his chair so he could drape his arm over Hailey's chair. She turned a little more toward him, and giggled loudly at him quietly warning "the spotlight in on us - ready?" She was. She had played this game many times while on tour, but never to tease Rod: she hoped it didn't backfire now!

Rod spotted the family table, their guests, and the two lovebirds chirping away at the other end. He greeted everyone en masse and placed a chair between his mother and grandmother, on the opposite side of the table from Hailey.

His dad asked how today went, and he replied, "If they make us meet with the egotistical OSU Buttholes again, the game will be on long before kickoff! As it is, the defensive coaches are having to leash and muzzle KP, and leash the rest of the defensive front seven. Bart, Wes, and I are a bit sneakier, but we've been called every name we haven't already called them, and our offensive line is promising carnage!

"I can't guarantee you who will win, but I will guarantee you that it will be balls-to-the-wall from the opening whistle, and the team with the most standing at the final horn will likely be the winner!"

The men smiled and smirked, his mother and grandmother covered their mouths with their hands and turned pale, and Hailey abandoned playtime to look aghast. Will was one of those smirking. Rod had been his baby brother by another mother since he was born, and when he was this het up, he was a true terror! He knew his dad wanted the charade, but after that his heart wasn't in it, and his acting partner looked like she might faint.

Bill tried to push it anyway. "Rod, you remember Will, don't you? He and Hailey have a lot of friends in common, and they met over in France. They've been renewing their friendship and remembering old times."

Rod looked at Bill, grinned, and quietly said, "That looked suspicious from the get-go, and the smirk on your ugly mug made me more certain, but you just couldn't resist pulling the cat out of the bag, could you? Couldn't let it play out and let the actors regroup, either, could you?

"And besides, Will's gotten so soft and girly I could take him with one hand on one leg, and he knows it!"

Rod stood up, walked over to Samantha Harlan, kissed her on the cheek, and then kissed their daughter Kylie directly on the mouth. She was surprised, but went along with it; after all, she had fantasized about her 'baby brother' for about seven years or so already, and if he wanted to give his girlfriend a dose of her own medicine, she would gladly be his foil.

As soon as that was done, he marched directly to Will, stood over him with scowl, drew back his fist, and asked, "So, you two did what over in France?"

Will knew what was coming, and was preparing to play it out, but Hailey panicked. "No, Rod!" she cried, jumping out of her chair and rushing to him. "It isn't like that at all! Bill wanted us to tease you, because you told Coach Sark he wanted to be my Sugar Daddy, so we were going to pretend Will..."

She stopped, punched him in the ribs, made her meanest face, and surmised, "But you already knew all that, you jackass! You were just trying to embarrass me!"

He lowered his arm to cover his ribs as if injured, whimpered and moaned as if in pain, and warned, "Coach Sark is going to spank you if you injured my ribs and I can't play!"

"Oh, Coach Sark can spank me anytime he wants to," she said coquettishly, "but he isn't worried about you! He says Bart is going to set records in this game, bench jockey!"

The table was roaring by then, with other tables watching and laughing with them. "I told you!" Bill Harlan bellowed, "They are the cutest things I've ever seen, and she is the first girl I've seen give as good as she gets from that cocky rooster!"

Rod grinned down at her, pulled her to him, and whispered in her ear. She half-heartedly tried to resist at first, but quickly relaxed in his arms, looked up at him, stood on her toes, and kissed him. That turned the laughter around them to a lingering "Aww". Rod took her seat, set her on his lap, and told Will, "That was in Europe - she's with me now."

Will laughed and thrust his hand out. "Honestly, it sounded like more fun when Dad hooked us in, but by the time you finished talking about 'the last men standing' my partner was lost in fear. However, she is as beautiful and compelling as I remember, and if you ever get tired of her, give me the first chance to be her rebound man."

"Well, I would, but your daddy told me I needed to 'tie a ribbon around that cute thing and wrap her up', which is the only good advice I ever got from the old coot."

That evoked a "whooo" from around the table, and a blush from the 'cute thing.' He was teasing, but it was the first time he'd ever given her an inkling of a future together, and her imagination was running wild. She wondered if he had time to go upstairs to his room, and if his roommate would mind, because she would really, really like to give him a preview of what their honeymoon might be like if he did marry her!

He felt her wiggle, felt the heat, and knew what was on her mind. "Sorry, Love; no one but players allowed on our floor," he whispered, "but next week I have no practice or film study, or anything, so you better be eating your Wheaties."

"And after you win MVP again and get to go on the talk shows and sportscasts, can I go?" she whispered back.

"I'll do my best to make that happen," he whispered back.

"If you two are making wedding plans over there," Andi proclaimed, "I want to be included! I can only imagine the stars and celebrities that will be there!"

More laughter, another blush from Hailey, and an incredulous look from momma Sarah. "What? You two are like two category three tornados who turn into a category 5 when you get together! I can't imagine what your kids would be like!"

That turned Hailey purple, so he tucked her head against his big body and hid her from the braying at the table, stoking her dark hair and graceful neck and cooing to her.

"Uh, I remember saying that very same thing about you and my son, Missy! That didn't turn out as bad as I thought, and this probably won't either!" predicted Gram Susan. Which raised another round of laughter, including from surrounding tables.

Bret Favre and his wife came over, saying, "We thought we'd join this bunch. Not only are you having more fun than any other table, but you also take turns embarrassing each other! My kind of people!"

With the spotlight off them and on the Favres, Rod began quietly talking to her, and she to him. It wasn't bed talk, or even romantic; it was planning next week if he was one of the fortunate ones, and if he wasn't. 'Wasn't' was easy - back to Austin, back to the lake, and back into his bed. Classes, parties together, and more time than they had ever experienced, outside their little diversions, like Mallorca.

'Was' was more complicated and there were a number of 'it depends on' situations. In Rod's mind, having Olympics' Silver Medalist Hailey along would generate more publicity in places and with people who were, at best, lukewarm about football. But would the TCD/SID and AD agree, or would they want him alone?

It seems conceited to be having that conversation at all, but I do like to look ahead. I know what All-Around Champion of the NFR meant in terms of appearances and time, and I suspected MVP of the Championship Game would involve as much or more.

To others, Hailey was Rod's 'girlfriend,' and girlfriends are transitory - like Mia and America. If she had a more formal status, others would be quicker to recognize and accept the true nature of their relationship. But that would require a ring, a proposal, and a 'yes'. The first I had taken care of long ago, before I even met Hailey, and well before I had a serious girlfriend, while exploring in my great-grandmother's house.

I saw the ring set, and for reason I didn't and still don't understand, I was drawn to them. I took the rings out of the drawer, admired them individually and as a set, and took them to my bedridden great-grandmother. "Grammy, who do these beautiful rings belong to?"

She gave him the sweetest smile he'd ever seen, her eyes lit up, and she replied, "Those are mine, Honeychild. Your great-grandfather Elton, who you probably don't remember because he died when you were little, gave those to me on our 25th anniversary. He could barely afford a cheap silver band when we got married, but I treasured it because it symbolized our love and our bond!

"But 25 years later he was a man of stature in the community, and we were rich beyond our dreams. We had a ceremony that I thought was to renew our marriage vows, but before it started, he got down on one knee and proposed again. But it wasn't a simple 'will you marry me' - oh, no, my Elton had to review our first 25 years of matrimony, propose what he thought the next 25 years should be like, and ask me if I agreed with his vision for our lives. I did, or course, because it was more of the same, but also including trips abroad and watching our kids become parents while we became grandparents!

"And then he asked me if I would marry him again, so we could get started on our next 25 years with God's blessing on our new marriage. I wanted to scream yes, but he was so solemn I said that I felt as he did, and I wanted to be married to him for as many more years as God gave us!"

She held them together and placed them on her bony little fingers, to show me how much room remained, and said, "I stopped wearing them when he died. It just seemed wrong to wear the symbol of our love and devotion when he wasn't here with me.

"But I still get them out and clean them from time to time. Your grandmother wanted me to wear them on a chain, but that would be wearing them out, and I want them to be passed to another generation. Would you like to have them for your wife, Rodney?"

I tried to tell her no, but she was insistent, and I was enchanted by their beauty, so when she gave them to me in the original box, I thanked her profusely and hugged and kissed her. She died not long after, and I think Grandmother Susan is the only other person who knows I have them.

So I have the ring set, but I don't have time to pull off some grand proposal, and, honestly, while I know she loves me, we haven't talked about 'forever.' It seems like we're always trying to overcome a crisis, or having sex, or whispering and teasing. But marriage? Being with one person the rest of our lives? Kids? Grandkids, and watching sunsets from the front porch? Ha! No, those topics haven't come up.

But I have one question I ask myself from time to time now that we're on a more even keel (setting aside the drugging and attempted rape last weekend). That question is, if she's not in my life, will I still be happy? Years ago when we met and I became infatuated with her, well, the answer was foggy and uncertain. That's no longer true.

I've courted Mia and had great sex with America, Janet, and others, and Hailey and I have bounced from puppy love to disappointment; from reignition of our infatuation to anger and harsh words; from getting back together only to fall apart; and finally, getting together, staying together, and realizing the strong emotions we evoke in each other are based in love.

So what do I do? It would be somewhat difficult to talk all that out in the 43 minutes before I return to the team, AND propose! Yet I was sorely tempted. Something happened over the months since she became a coed. Something in me changed, became sharper, stronger, needier, more loving.

"Take an elevator ride with me," I proposed. She smiled and nodded, I told her to grab her jacket, and we rode up to the players floor - where guests were banned. She stayed by the elevator, nervous as a cat on a hot tin roof, while I ran to my room and back, returning with two jackets. Then we rode it to the exhibition deck on top of the building, strolled around holding hands, picked a place overlooking Atlanta that we thought was beautiful, wrapped our arms around each other, and just stood there, enjoying the view and the joy of holding and being held.

I palmed the box from my jacket pocket, and placed the box in front of her. She looked down, looked up in surprise, and asked, "Is there a present in there for me?" She looked confused, knowing it looked like a ring box, but bumfuzzled by why I would be holding it out to her.

"Before you open it, let me tell you the story of how I came to own something very important, almost sacred, to me. When I was seventeen, I was exploring my great-grandmother's big old house. I opened a drawer, found this, and...."

When I finished my story, she looked as confused as before I began. "We've travelled a rocky, uneven, and, at times, dangerous, road together, and we've been apart more than together over the years since we met. Chronologically, we're very young, but in terms of life experienced and lessons learned, we're older. Older, in fact, than a lot of thirty-year-olds.

"What I want you to do is take this box and my cherished rings over the weekend, and think about what my great-Grammy said about what they mean. Think about what I said about what they mean to me, and what I expect of the woman wearing them. You can try them on and wear them around in your room, but if you appear in public with the betrothal ring, it means you accept the contract that goes with it.

"I'm not asking for a yes or no. I sprung this on you without the proper discussion and negotiation, and I want you to have as much time as it takes to decide whether now is a good time, or if there will ever come a good time. Take as much time as you need, go over what my expectations for the wearer of my rings are, and you can tell me you decision when you know how you feel.

"Obviously not immediately - you have 3.5 years of school remaining, I have 2.5. But at some point, the person who accepts that ring and I will marry. We will merge our lives, we will have children, and we will live our lives in harmony, ever thoughtful of the other, of our family, and of our vows. Not everyone will or can make that commitment, and I would never ask anyone to make it without having enough time to consider the ramifications.

"So I don't expect an answer; I just want you to understand how seriously I take our relationship. To me we are more than boyfriend-girlfriend, because that is such a transitory relationship. I've had several girlfriends, you've had... well, more than several boyfriends, over the years since we met, yet somehow we keep being drawn back to each other.

"Am I making more of that than you? I honestly don't know, but I do know that I have turned you loose more than once, and you have come back to me. Isn't that the definition so many poets use for love?

"I have to report back, so I want you to put this simple box in your pocket and keep it with you until we're back together, then you can give it back to me and tell me whatever you want to say, or you can give one back and wear the other and tell me whatever you want to say. I know my expectations are ridiculously high, but I hold myself to them as well."

Hailey looked up at me with those chocolate eyes and replied, "I want you to know that I love you, Rod, and that I'll do what you asked me to. I haven't even seen these rings yet, but I already know they're special, for what they meant to your great-grandparents, and for what they mean to you. I would never soil them by wearing them with an unsure heart, so if I do, you can be certain I gave our relationship and future the consideration you require."

She hugged me as tightly as she could, I wrapped her tightly in my arms, and we stood there rocking for several minutes before we separated. I turned, holding her hand, to take her to the elevator, but she pulled back.

"I know you have to go now, but I love this place, and I want to stay up here. Where better to begin my self-examination and consideration of the future than right here?" she asked with a dazzling if subdued smile.

I wondered if I'd lost my mind all the way down to the sixth floor, decided I did the right thing, got off, and shut my private life in a corner of my mind. From that moment until the game ended, with one brief interlude, I focused on beating THE Ohio State University Buckeyes and winning the national championship.

****

Sunday we ate breakfast together, walked around in the stadium again, huddled, and then sat at midfield. Each position coach addressed us for a few minutes, as did two of the analysts. Their messages, simplified to a single sentence, were, "You're better than these guys - seize the moment!"

Sark had a lot more to say, though the theme was the same. He talked about the courage it takes to win a championship, how the feeble falter when faced with the opportunity, and about how tennis players say the last point of the last game of a championship match is the most difficult to win. I, personally, didn't need any of that - I was focused and ready, and so was Bart. I saw it on his face, in his eyes, and in the way he carried himself.

But maybe some did. I saw some nodding a little too vigorously, and others saying 'Amen!' or "Damn right!" as if trying to convince themselves.

On gameday, the kicking game members go out first - kickers, punters, and receivers. They are followed by passers and receivers, and other specialty groups. I was dressed and ready but sitting back waiting when Sark called my name and beckoned me. I walked over and he said, "It's a good thing you continued working on your punting a day or two a week. Dave has a nasty stomach virus and Allen woke up with a tight, sore hamstring. He's going to give it a try in warmups, but if he can't go, or can't get anything into his punts, Coach Samples says you are the man. So trot out, stretch a little more, and take a few punts with Allen and Coach. We'll bring your helmet when we come out."

I turned and followed the kickers and punter down the tunnel, chuckling that this happens in the NCG! We go all year with two healthy punters, and I practice just for the hell of it (and because I enjoy punting to places on the fields, or just cutting loose). And then, in the biggest game of the year, I may be the punter! I LMAO, but internally, so no one knows. Not everyone finds what I find funny to be funny, ya know?

Fifteen minutes later after more stretching and warmups, it was official: I am the punter! Allen can't get any leg whip; in fact, he can barely punt, and he whimpers when he does! THE Ohio State University coaches and football team are going to shit a brick when I walk out the first time. They probably won't even send anyone back to receive, figuring it's a fake punt! I might have a hell of an average, if that punt originates in our end of the stadium!

I took the practice snap, dropped the ball and hit it cleanly, getting about 45 yards out of it. That would be my range during practice, because I knew they were watching. I punted two down the middle, practiced sending it out of bounds inside the five, and then practiced pinning their receiver on the sideline. With our punter on the sideline getting massaged and wrapped, I just let years of muscle memory take control. After all, I punted for CHS for four years, and was all-state twice. There aren't many specialists in small school football and I could punt, so I punted. No big deal - until now - in the NCG!

By the time the passers and receivers came out, I was through. I sent the snapper over to the field goal unit and warmed my arm up with the other three QBs. Bart couldn't help himself. "So are you only punting, or handling kicking duties too?"

"I could but haven't been asked. Why? Didn't you do it all in your dinky private school?"

"Dad would have killed me, so no. I'll do my best to keep you off the field, though, to avoid embarrassment."

"Don't worry about me. I'm expecting a 35 point lead when I come in so all I have to do is hit cruise control."

Bart looked at me seriously and replied, "I'm feeling it, Brother! You might get your wish!"

THE OSU won the flip, opted to defer, and kicked off. Matthew brought it out to the 38, and the first drive it looked like Bart was going to get his 35 points before retiring to the bench. He was a perfect 8 for 8 passing, which was good because the running game was stymied. Colt got the TD from the 12 when he blocked, released, and wandered to the back line away from the line of scrimmage (LOS). Bart saw him, burned one in, and Colt was hoisting the ball while getting mugged by teammates.

Unfortunately, the OSU quarterback was also hot, and he converted two fourth downs with runs before they scored on a 21 yard reverse on third and seven. 7 to 7; Longhorns' ball at their own 17. Bart started them back down the field before offsides and holding penalties ended the drive on the eighteen.

I trotted out with the punt team, and cool as I cucumber I warned, "I'm gonna kick the shit out of this one - get down there and make sure it doesn't go in the end zone!"

As predicted, the Buckeyes didn't want to believe I was in to punt, so they called a time out. When they came back out, they covered our wide outs and both eligible ends, had one guy playing middle safety, and the other deeper, but only 45 yards or so back. I caught a perfect snap, they rushed a few steps, but stopped in case I took off.

I didn't, and I appreciated the lack of rush. I got a strong step, a great drop, made contact in my sweet spot, and the ball rocketed off my foot. It climbed and climbed, arcing like the St. Louis Gateway, and landed far behind the deepest Buckeye. It bounced high in the air and began tumbling toward the goal line. By then, we had four men free sprinting toward the ball; they caught up on the 15 yard line, surrounded it, and were motioning for it to keep rolling.

"Wolfman Jack," a sprinter who only played on special teams because he didn't play high school ball, downed it inside the one, and THE OSU Buckeyes would take the snap standing in their endzone. Hehe.

While the defensive players and coaches were petitioning Sark for 'just one' all out rush to try for a safety, the Texas crowd was going crazy about the punt, and who punted it. As I trotted off, I saw that the cameras to the big board were focused on my family first, and then on Hailey. She hesitated just a moment, and then raised her left hand, palm facing in, and flashed my engagement ring. That also drew a reaction from the crowd, and from my sisters, who began jumping up and down manically.

Then I reached the team sideline and was being beat on the head and shoulders by teammates congratulating me for the punt, so I saw no more of the screen. I was grinning about who knows what - the punt, the ring, how quickly she made her decision... or maybe that my turn at QB was coming soon, after the defense caught the running back two yards deep in the end zone and drove him out the back in a truly impressive gang tackle!

The Bucks chose to kick off after the safety. It went through the end zone, so Bart and Co. had it on the 25 yard line. He led a truly impressive drive with good reads on options and passes, and continued to be perfect in the passing game. The play of the game for OSU happened on third and three from the Buckeyes' fourteen yard line. They got a good rush, Bart stood in courageously, and threw another gem to Q, who got the first down and went out of bounds on the ten.

I already had my hat in hand and was running that way when Bart started to the sideline holding his right hand - his throwing hand.

He stopped when we met. "Messed up my thumb, HR!" "I saw it hit his helmet, JR. Go get some ice and tape it. I'll drive the bus until you're ready."

"It's not like that, Brother of Mine - I'm done, so this is on you! Kick their asses!"

Sark came toward where we were talking and gestured to ask if we needed a time out. Bart pointed at the clock and waved him back. I sprinted to the huddle and said, "I'll introduce myself after this TD," and called the play.

I'd been watching and listening to Bart and Sark; I knew the play to call, so I called it, and took them to the line with ten seconds left. No fooling around now - I checked the defense, saw it was what I expected, got under center, and began the count. CJ dove convincingly into the line; I rode him as long as I could to draw the linebacker, saw Q make his break, stood up, and hit Quinton just as he broke open on the post. He caught it shoulder high, turned, and split the safeties to score! With one minute left in the first quarter, the score became 16 Texas - 7 Ohio State.

As soon as I got to the sideline after the TD, I looked for Bart. He was in the medical tent, so I headed that way and met him coming out. He had ice in his hand, and a tape loop around his thumb. He saw me and said, "That didn't take long! Way to go, Rod!" Then, in a more subdued voice, he said, "We're headed for the X-Ray machine, but I can tell you that you're QB1 for the rest of this game. It's either broken or dislocated, and I'm not sure which I'd rather have."

"Well, crap, Bud! I hate to hear that, but I'll do my best to continue the butt kicking you started. And I'll pray for a miracle! We need you!"

"I'll be back to support you in fifteen minutes or less, so don't let up!" He took a few steps, turned, grinned, and asked, "So what is that ring Hailey was showing the world?"

"Just some old thing my great-grandmother gave me," I replied with a grin like his. He ran back, practically jumped into my arms, and started beating on my back with closed fists while congratulating me.

Sark growled, "I don't know what you two lovebirds are talking about, but I need you over here with the headphones, Ford! Y'all can kiss and hug after the game!"

The OSU mounted another quality drive. It took ten plays, but they scored and kicked the extra point. We had a two point lead when we went back out, with the ball on our twenty-five.

Coach wanted a drive that took at least six minutes off the board, so we mounted our own ground campaign and the line and running backs rose to the challenge. We made three, three-play first downs, and went for it on fourth from the 33. We only needed one, so they were crowding the LOS when we came to the line. I changed dive right to option right at the line, because they had ignored me on three other option plays, focusing on the RB.

I got the read I expected, and took off with the ball on what appeared to be a good fake, given that CJ leaped over the fight guard and extended his arms as if he had the ball. I cleared the LOS and headed up field, seeing two safeties to beat. I veered right, as if intending to outrun them to the pylon; as soon as both committed to cutting me off, I cut left hard, forcing the safety now in my way to turn all the way around. When he did, I straightened up and headed for the goal posts.

He lost me when I cut away, and had to break stride to look over his inside shoulder. He picked me up again and turned, but I was even with both of them with twelve yards to go, and neither touched me before I scored! We kicked the extra point, and we were up by nine with five minutes, twenty-two seconds left before half.

Our defensive coordinator decided thy might chunk it over our heads for a TD, but they weren't making another time-eating drive to score just before the half. He loaded the line, rushed six, and it was second and 11. Same tactic, but this time the QB faked the dive, stood up, and threw it toward their big tight end. It bounced off KP's hand but the TE caught it on the carom, and made a first down.

On third and seven, they ran a double reverse that got another first, and the next series they ran a flea flicker for a fourteen yard gain. There was 1:54 left in the half, so the refs stopped play for what the NFL calls "The Two Minute Warning" but colleges call "The Two minute Timeout." Plenty of time on the clock and they were within field goal range at our seventeen. Their exceptional running back then broke two tackles to score, and we were up by two again with 1: 18 remaining in the half.

The coaches debated whether to run the clock out and take our lead to the dressing room or try to get points via a field goal, but neither was the proper choice in my mind, and I said so. Sark gave me that look for a second or two, and then repeated what I said to the offensive coordinator.

I could hear Milwee chuckle and saw Sark doing the same. He waved me onto the field and called the play. First and ten from our own 25. The quick sweep got seven, we hustled back, and threw a quick out to Matthew for seven more and a first down. An outside zone play got us eleven, thanks to good blocking at the LOS and CJ breaking two tackles.

We were moving the ball well, but even with the first downs, time was running out; a minute eighteen remained on the clock. I had already released the ball when the receiver got knocked off his pattern by the cornerback, and it bounced on the ground for the first incompletion of the night. Q came back complaining about being held on every play and Matthew agreed. Colt chimed in, saying they were jamming him and holding on.

Sark called another pass, but I changed it to a draw that CJ took for 8 yards. He got up with a little limp, and Jay came in. He's a good, shifty running back, but a great receiver. We ran an option, I pitched the ball to him; he got another first down but got tackled in bounds, so we hustled back to the line.

A quick pass toward Matthew drew a flag for pass interference and a fifteen yard penalty, which the receivers and I hoped would back them off a step; it didn't. They remained in press coverage, but stopped holding as blatantly, at least not on the next play, a quick out to Q that gained another first down and stopped the clock when he went out of bounds.

Forty-two seconds, first down on the OSU 30. Sark went to the inside zone hoping to catch them in pass defense, but didn't. Second down and 9 from the 29, clock running, so we hustled back and I called a play we'd been keeping in our vest pocket. The formation was twins right, TE left. The two wide receivers fought loose and headed up field, the tight end ran a shallow drag, and after a desultory fake to Jayden going left, I sprinted right.

Jayden set up, hit the defensive end hustling after me, read the linebacker sprinting across the field with the right cornerback, and hit the burners up the left sideline. I was looking at the three receivers downfield in front of me, but watching him with my peripheral vision. I faked the out to Q, turned my body to the LOS, and threw across the field to Jaden, who was streaking down the other sideline. He turned his thumbs in, caught it in stride, and the defensive backs broke off their effort; he was just too fast to catch in the remaining distance!

The Buckeyes had 28 seconds to do something with the ball, but decided to run out the clock and go to the locker room down by nine. They got the ball to open the second half, which could cut the advantage back to 2 pts again.

The offensive coaches took us into our area, and drew some stuff on the whiteboard to explain why some of our blocking schemes were getting blown up. Meanwhile, across the dressing room, the defenders were getting blown up by Coach K, who was taking no prisoners!

It was hard to pay attention when the entertainment across the room was so much greater than our low key explanations, so the coaches broke us into position groups and continued their clarifications and planning for the second half.

I didn't mean to, but I caught KP and Lali's eyes when I glanced that way. KP scowled, but Lali opened his eyes wide, as if terrified. I barely kept my cool, and Coach Milwee asked me what's funny. "Nothing really, but I glanced at the D over there, and KP looked like he was about to bite the head off a bat, and Lali looked like he might pee on himself in terror. I know it's not really funny, but to see those monsters..."

"Do you want me to chew on you? Is that what it takes to keep your attention?"

"Coach, I can repeat what you said verbatim, and I've been processing it. What we do if we see this stunt is..." and I repeated what he had said and why. I then raised an issue my linemen had raised in the second possession of the second quarter, and asked how we should adapt if they lined up like that. Coach looked at Coach Flood. The linemen were laid back, discussing something.

Coach Sark called them to join us, which brought the receivers too. He repeated the question I asked, and invited Coach Flood to address it. He quickly took over, knowing it originated with the line, but no one had asked him about it in group.

Like every good line coach I'd been around, he grabbed the 'chalk' and drew all over the board, showing us defensive alignments and shifts, and how the line, backs, and receivers should adapt. He's a smart son of a gun, and it's easy to see why his guys are so well trained and coordinated. Other coaches joined him to point out things their guys should do, and we had 'chalk talk' right up to the warning.

We stretched a little in the dressing room, ran in place, shrugged shoulders, etc. A normal halftime would be twenty minutes, but with the concert and commercials, this one was over thirty minutes. Doesn't sound like much, but every minute you sit muscles are cooling off and shortening, so loosening up again is critical or you can get hurt.

We went to the field as soon as they would let us, to the roar of the crowd, the sound almost evenly divided between cheers and boos. Football aficionados bought seats as soon as they were available, intending to be there for the National Championship Game regardless of opponents. A lot of them were rooting for their team to make it, but they would settle for a matchup between two teams near the top of the list for all-time wins. Football bluebloods, along with Alabama, Oklahoma, Michigan, Nebraska, Penn State, Notre Dame, USC, Georgia, and other powerhouses like Oregon, Clemson, Washington, Miami, Florida, and LSU. OSU had been consistently good; since Darrell Royal, Texas had, being kind, been inconsistent, ranging from excellent to mediocre.

But today we had the lead at halftime of the NCG, and I didn't see anyone who wanted to give it up! Maybe this will be the first of several, as the seniors who said we would 'dominate the second half of the decade' predicted. It wasn't a done deal by any means - football never is - but we had a nine point lead, which is better than being down by nine.

Bart, Trey, and I wore headphones while the defense was on the field, but we could watch the game and do what we felt moved to do. I cheered, yelled support, yelled warnings when I saw a set that they ran reverses our of, and got a finger point from KP, who stayed home and dropped the runner for a loss.

The defense held after two first downs, and OSU punted from mid-field. It was a great punt, going out of bounds inside the two, and we took the field with 98 yards to go.

Since we were starting on the two, we had two running backs in the game and the call was conservative; option look left with the ball going to the dive back, Trey W, in the three hole, between the guard and tackle. I saw the defense edging up and audibled into a true option, with Wes turning his man loose and picking up the linebacker.

Trey ran a great fake, and met the D end in the hole. I pulled the ball and cut up field at the 7 hole, with Jaden maintaining good pitch position. Wes was on the linebacker at first, but he shoved him backward and headed for the safety that was closing on us. Any other offensive tackle we would have gotten in front of, but Wes was huge and fast, and the safety underestimated how fast.

The cornerback was screwed either way. He knew if he released Jaden and took me, I'd pitch and Jaden would outrun everyone to the other end zone, so he took Jaden, probably hoping I wasn't as fast and would get run down. The problem was, I am that fast, and I didn't get run down; the defenders were too far away at the start. A 98 yard TD run, add an extra point, and we're ahead by 16.

I had refrained from looking at my family again, but after I handed the ball to the referee and got hugged by Q and Matthew, the only two to run the 98 yard sprint with me, I was directly facing them. So I pointed and then put that hand over my heart. She showed me the ring again, with help from my sisters this time, and I saw how happy everyone looked before I returned my focus to the game - and to the mob waiting for me at the team box beginning at the 35 yard line!

I wanted to tell Sark they needed to be more restrained in celebrations so I wouldn't get hurt, but he was one of the worst offenders. When they quit beating on me, I pushed my hat up, got a cup of Gatorade, and went to stand beside Bart. "Dude, that was a great audible, and Wes is a great tackle!" he enthused. "That big SOB blocked three men to free you! Well, actually, he blocked two to free you and one just for hell of it, but he did block three!"

"He is a flat-out stud, and so is Jaden Blue when you throw him a pass! He runs perfect patterns and catches anything near! When we go back out, I'm going to try to get a couple of more to him."

THE Ohio State Buckeyes had no quit in them, and they came storming back with a twelve play TD drive, scoring just before the end of the third quarter, and we were back to a nine point lead.

As deep as our defense is, if we keep scoring in one or two downs, and the Buckeyes keep putting drives together, they are going to wear down late in the game. Not that I'm going to turn down the quick strike TD, but this drive needed to be ten-plus plays and six-plus minutes. Up by sixteen with under ten to play would be a formidable position, and our defense would be rested.

When we took the field, I challenged the manhood of every blocker and running back, which about covered the offensive unit, and called a series of smash-mouth plays. Trey got three, Jaden got four, I got four on a keeper, and we had one first down and over a minute off the clock. We used the same tactic in the second series, and got another three play first down.

When we came back to the line, though, I saw a stacked front. They had decided we would not beat them with long drives, and they were double-dog daring us to throw. So I did: a simple curl to Colt for eight, and a quarterback sneak for six because they were doubling up outside.

I was watching them while the refs reset the clock after the first down, and I could see the frustration mounting. "Guys, they are about to come with everything they have! Do your best, but DO NOT HOLD! Receivers, read the secondary and get loose! I won't have but 2-3 seconds, so be watching as soon as you make your first break!"

I called the play and yelled, "Let's go!"

We came to the line with 11 seconds to get the play started, and I waited the defense out. The call was on first sound, so unless I saw the need to audible, I had ten seconds to see what they had planned. With five seconds left I got under center with both backs in the backfield so they could block, or become the safety valve if I needed one. Jaden went in motion with three seconds left, and, as disciplined as they are, the Bucks defensive end jumped offsides when Jaden moved, and he made contact with Wes, who stumbled back as if hit by a truck. The whistles blew, the flags flew, and it was first and five.

That play did nothing to alleviate their frustration, so I called a play that required two shifts and a motion before the ball was snapped, and they bit again. This time they were cussing and yelling at one another about stupid penalties. Sark saw the mood shift, and called inside zone, in which some lineman block down and some pull and lead through the hole. It was an easy read, so I gave the ball to Trey, and Jaden and I carried out the option fake. We only fooled one man, but that man was a blitzing linebacker, and Trey picked up nine yards through the hole he vacated. Second and one.

The defense once again crowded the middle, intent on stopping our running game, and Sark dug into his playbook. I faked to the dive back, who dove over the line. I then faked to the slot receiver on a reverse, and gave it to the X wide receiver running the opposite way. Matthew got pinned to the sidelines at the OSU thirty, but rather than go out of bounds and kill the clock, he wrapped the ball up and dove between the safety and outside linebacker, keeping the clock running after they marked off the first down.

Our defensive players were up screaming, giving me the impression they didn't need more rest as much as we needed to score six more. Sark sent in the play I was thinking about; I grinned and called it. We snapped the ball with seven seconds left, and both wide receivers, the tight end, and one running back jetted away from the LOS. Matthew got free first, so I hit him on a quick post. He planted and cut like he was a player in Madden, and we were up by 16 again, after the extra point.

OSU's quarterback was a great passer and he had great receivers, so it was no surprise to see them working quickly down the field. Michael almost stole one, but it glanced off his fingertips and was caught by another Buckeye receiver running a deep crossing pattern. It was so unlikely it seemed fated, and we were ahead by nine again.

Immediately after we took the field, the unlikely happened again. Sure handed Jayden didn't handle a simple pitch and was bobbling it when a defender hit him on the 21 yard line. The ball flew back and toward the sideline, where another defender picked it up and ran it in. I caught him at the goal line, but it was too late. Suddenly, our two-touchdown lead was cut to two points with 3:53 on the clock.

I wasn't concerned. Honestly, I was thinking I would just keep the ball and make first down until the clock expired, but the coaches were concerned and the plays scripted for the first drive showed it: me under center, handing it off each time between the guard and tackle.

OSU anticipated that, and they had nine men within ten yards of the center. I didn't change the call despite the stacked deck, and Trey was inundated at the LOS. We ran a TB cross on second, with the same result for Jaden. Third and 11 from our 24.

I did change the toss sweep on third down to a speed option to the left, and told Wes to kill the LB. He didn't kill him, but he did uncleat him after shoving the D end inside. I made the cut with Trey as my pitch man and immediately encountered the safety. I faked the pitch and cut back inside. The pursuit caught me at the forty, but first down!

Someone read my mindset, and called two quarterback sweeps with max blocking, meaning running to the strong (TE) side, pulling the offside guard and tackle, leading with the near back, and trusting the offside back to pick up a speedy rusher from that side. Fourteen yards and a first down at their 46 yard line.

The referees called the mandatory Two Minute Timeout, so we huddled with the coaches

When we came back out, all eleven defender were within 7 yards of the LOS, so I called the dive sent in, but gave Colt our special signal. He nodded in return, and on the snap, he tore into the defensive end, before releasing and running a fade. I rode Trey into the line, pulled the ball, turned, and flipped it over Colt's outside shoulder. He caught it, turned up the sideline, and ran. They caught him on the twelve and downed him on the ten, with 1:22 remaining in the game. OSU called their final timeout, and we huddled with the coaches again.

They cautioned me and the backs to take care of the ball, and challenged the offensive line to control the LOS, no matter how many they rushed. Though they couldn't see me, I rolled my eyes at that; Wes might be able to block two at once, but them rushing eight against our six blockers, counting the tight end, meant some would penetrate and screw up the play. I was already riding the backs into the line to ensure there wasn't a rusher about to crush them in the hole, but when eight or ten hands are pulling on you and trying to punch the ball out, holding on to the ball is more than difficult.

OSU looked stunned and tired when they came back out, so I quickly lined the offense up and ran a QB keeper over the 5 hole (left guard-tackle) for six. We ran the clock down and I handed the ball to Trey right up the middle; he gained two, and it was third and goal from the two with seventy seconds left.

The coaches sent in our 'short yardage back', another big fast freshman who had gotten hurt in fall camp, and who had only played a few snaps all season. He was a load though, and uber confident, so I talked to him to ascertain whether this moment was too big for him. He had a smile on his face when he saw me waiting, and assured me he was ready. He looked it, and my gut told me he was, so I called the play sent in.

All he had to do was hold onto the ball; whether or not we scored was irrelevant. He did, and he pushed them back to the one before being stopped, despite being gang-tackled at the two by eight or more defenders. Fourth and goal; we could run the clock down to seven seconds before snapping it, or kick a field goal. Of course, that would draw an all-out rush and the possibility of a blocked FG, so I doubted that would happen.

"Time out, Texas!" came the call with the play clock at 2 seconds and the game clock at 8.

"What do you want to do?" Sark asked me. "I don't want them to get it back with even time to run one Hail Mary! As lucky as they've been the last two possessions, it might bounce off six hands and result in a touchdown!"

"Let me take the snap and run around for a while. They're too tired to chase me full speed, so I may be able to kill the clock, or at least most of it, and there is no danger of a bad handoff."

"I like it - do it!"

We went back out. I surveyed the opponent and saw that they would give it whatever they had left, even though their tanks were about drained of fuel. Two tight ends and three backs were in for us, so they brought all eleven to the LOS. The line and tight ends set up foot to foot; two backs set up as wings, and one lined up beside me, five yards deep. The snap came, I secured it, and waited to see where the breakout came from. It didn't, for several seconds, and then it came from up the middle and to the right side. I spun away, behind the back, who took out the linebacker charging up the middle.

I sprinted left, behind Colt and Wes, and the pursuers from the right gave chase. Just when they, and a couple who had worked loose on the left side, thought they had me, I spun, gave ground, and sprinted for the right sideline. I had to give more ground, back to the fifteen, to avoid the original rusher from up the middle, and then I sprinted for the unprotected goal line. The horn sounded when I was on the five, and the Texas crowd roared. I stepped out of bounds on the one inch line, turned to the OSU bench, and gave them a nod of appreciation for their efforts.

We won by two, which was all that mattered - except to the betters who had us by more than two, of course. I knew I'd be cussed for that, but who GAF? We were national champions, and if your bet means more to you than that, go fuck yourself!

Everybody was so tired, or mentally exhausted, I only had to endure a few half-hearted slaps on the back and pats on the head by the guys on the field, and I stayed away from the rested ones on the sidelines by shaking hands and commiserating with the heartbroken defenders on the field, and the coaches that came out to join them.

We might have been enemies to the final gun, but we were comrades now. They appreciated our efforts as much as we appreciated theirs, and I got hugs, fists to bump, and kind words from both the Buckeye players and their coaches. I live for moments like this, National Championship game or any other game contested this well!

Since I escaped relatively unscathed, I slipped out of the morass toward the northeast corner of the stadium and trotted to the stands on that side of the stadium. The guards were there to keep fans from jumping onto the field, so they didn't see me coming until I leaped high enough to pull myself over the wall. I pulled my helmet off and dropped it, excused myself to the first row fans who had to make room for me, and stepped over the first two rows to reach my girlfriend/fiancée, my sisters, my parents and grandparents.

I embraced Hailey first, told her I loved her and was glad she accepted my ring, and gave her a not-safe-for-national-TV kiss that took our breath away. My sisters were already hugging and congratulating me from the side and back, so I took each under an arm and hugged them tightly, in spite of their laughing complaints about how wet and stinky I was. I then stepped over that row so I could hug mom and dad and my grandparents. Mom was laughingly telling me the girls were right, so I picked her up and twirled her around, squealing and hitting me on the shoulder pads with her little fists, demanding I set her down. Grandmother Susan looked jealous, so I did the same to her, with the same reaction, before grabbing HR's hand and pulling us together in a big, manly hug.

Dad was next, and I told him how much I appreciated and loved him while I held him in place. He told me it was impossible to be prouder than he was at this moment! I released him, stepped back down to Hailey, and gave her a twirl. That was a true treat, because while I was holding her she was telling me how much she loved me and hinting at what she was going to do when we were alone again. It was also a treat for the national TV audience, as her short dress exposed much more than I intended.

As it turned out, those few minutes of heartfelt affection would garner UT and me a lot of new NIL money, Hailey generous offers she couldn't turn down, my sisters endorsements and commercials they couldn't turn down, and my family the kind of family commercials that are easy to make, don't take too much time, and yet give you a national presence. Even the Ford Ranch prospered, as the site for family commercials and commercials featuring my overly-gorgeous sisters on horses and in poses around the ranch wearing things I barely considered PG-13!

They were going to be a problem for my parents, and I was now hoping they would go to some other school so I could avoid Big Brother responsibilities! I had enough to deal with in way-too-gorgeous Hailey!

By this time there was a stage erected on the field, and I was being yelled at by various go-fers from UT and the network, so I gave Hailey one more kiss, released her, grabbed my helmet, and hoped lithely over the wall. I sprinted across the field to where Sark was holding court and letting players talk to the sideline reporters, but stayed back so as many as possible could have a turn in the spotlights.

I knew I would get my time, but I also knew my time would be scant without my teammates and coaches.

Fortunately, they called Sark to the stage, and then called me and KP to join him. I trotted up after the big guy, and we hugged each other while Sark addressed the world. He was good, and he said all the right things before being presented with the quite impressive National Championship trophy. He turned and handed it to KP, hugged me and thanked me, and then KP handed it to me. I hoisted it, found Wes in the first row, and handed it to him. He hoisted it in triumph, and then passed it on to teammates.

KP was given his award as Defensive MVP, and then they pushed him in front of dozens of mics. I held my breath, 'cause KP had a very expressive vocabulary, but he just thanked God, his family, his coaches, present and past, his teammates, and the teachers and friends who supported him growing up. Though his voice remained strong, the emotion conveyed was so moving people were dabbing at their eyes.

They then presented me with the offensive MVP trophy and invited me to address the country. I looked down at my teammates, and called for all the offensive linemen to raise their hats. They did, with grins on their faces, and I held the trophy aloft: "This belongs to you! And to the tight ends and receivers - raise your hats! And to the running backs - raise your hats! And to the quarterbacks, with whom I spend so much time and in whom I have so much trust - please raise your hats!"

I then put on the smile he deserved, pointed at Bart, and said, "As we all know, if he hadn't gotten hurt, this guy, Bart Favre, would be up here holding this trophy! And if I had gotten hurt, Trey would up here holding it! We have a great quarterback room and I love every one of these guys!

"Now, defensive lineman, raise you hats! This trophy and the National Championship trophy belong to you! And to the linebackers - raise your hats! Defensive secondary - raise your hats! Kickers, punters, snappers - raise your hats! Kickoff, punt, and receiving teams, hoist your hats!"

When the furor died down I said, "Quarterbacks win the MVP trophies and get credit for championships most of the time, but on this team, the credit belongs to everybody that raised a hat, plus our training and maintenance staff, the coaches... and their wives. Wives and families of coaches - raise your hands and holler for us so we can see where you are and salute you!"

They did; I extended an arm toward their seats and waved it from side to side in thanks - the crowd, coaches, and players waved and cheered.

"Wives, girlfriends, families, and loved ones of the players - stand up and wave your hands so we can thank you for all you did and do for us!"

The cheering was thunderous, and the waving vigorous! "When you cut to the core," I said after things died down, "without these folks, few of us would be here on this field! And the same goes for the families and loved ones of the Ohio State Buckeyes, who played one helluva game here tonight! Buckeyes, hoist your helmets and wave them - you are one GREAT football team, and you could easily have been up here instead of us!"

Huge roar that went on for minutes, and then I interjected, "And everything I said about families and loved ones is true for these guys as well - Buckeye parents and loved ones, wave your hands and let us thank you!"

A lot were gone, but those remaining were prideful and got the cheers they too deserved.

"Now, how many of you here tonight are just plain college football fans? No personal stake in this game, just fans who came wanting to see an epic game for the national championship. Stand and wave your arms so we can celebrate you!"

They did, and appreciation for them was expressed loudly.

"And finally, I'm going to end this with what may seem mercenary on my part: I'm going to express OUR appreciation - the appreciation of student athletes and college students - for those of you that contribute to the NIL programs at every secondary institution, to the Longhorn Foundation and all the foundations that support athletes and athletics, and especially to the scholarship programs at every school that make an post-secondary education available to talented students to whom it would otherwise be an impossible dream.

"God bless you all, and I think I say that for tens of thousands of students and student athletes across the country!"

The players on the field made it clear they felt the same, and then the network announcer prodded me to talk about the football game, asking if there was a play I remembered as being critical to our win. I looked at him with a smile, knowing he knew the question was bullshit, and said, "So you want me to start with the first series and chronicle each and every play that led to our ultimate victory? That's a lot of plays, Kirk, and as you well know, there aren't one or two that matter. Every play matters, but every third down matters more, and every kickoff or punt return matters, just as every punt and kickoff makes a difference. One or two or two dozen plays don't matter more than the rest, even if it became a touchdown or forced a punt.

"So let me acknowledge a few of our players that made critical plays in critical situations. Wes, come up here. Wes blocked his man, or his man or another, or his man and a couple of others, on multiple plays, including on my long TD run! Q, you and Colt come up! These guys, Matthew, Isaiah, and Wingo fought press coverage to get free, ran great patterns that allowed Bart and I to get the ball out on time and to the right place, and blocked their butts off on running plays! They are the best!

"On defense, KP, Rock, the Polynesian Stump, and every other man on the field did their jobs and then did more! They are the greatest!

"And so, Kirk, as you well know, it's the players who make great plays! And as you also know, as a QB, you have to forget the last play and focus on the next, or bad stuff happens. So why don't you pick a couple of plays, show them on the big screen, and I'll react."

The network was ready to replay whatever I named, so they told Kirk what was coming, he introduced it, and I talked about it, asking them to replay several times so I could point out critical fakes, blocks, pattern reads by the receiver, option reads, or whatever.

Kirk looked a little uneasy at my technical breakdowns, but I'm not going to say "The receiver ran a good route and I threw a good pass." Nah! Hundreds of things happened in a few seconds to make that a TD, and I wanted to point out that many besides the QB and WR made important decisions and contributions. "Kirk, you may think this is too technical for the audience, but millions tune in to hear you break down games in this very same way. I'm not trying to steal your thunder, but those still in the stadium or watching on TV or streaming are true fans, and they like to know what happened and why. Don't you agree?"

He turned on that million dollar smile that makes him like twenty-something when he's fifty-something, so I turned mine on, and he laughed. "This is fun for you and me, Rod, and I'm ready to continue. If the sponsors and fans give us a big raspberry and drop off, we'll have to give it up, but until then, how about this play. You came to the line, saw this front, and..."

We talked football for a few more minutes, with the Texas AD and HFC watching with smiles, and went to commercial. "Damn I'm glad you aren't old enough to take my job, Rod - you're a natural!" he exclaimed while hugging me.

"You know why I'm not nervous, Kirk? Cause I don't give a shit! Y'all brought me up here and I'll stay until you let me go, for the good of my college and your audience. But then I'm going to celebrate a little with my teammates and coaches in the locker room, and then go find my new fiancée and celebrate our engagement. See what I mean?"

He burst out laughing, and as soon as we came back live, he took a shit on me. "So, Hot Rod, tell us about this play right here. It happened after your 98 yard TD run, surprising the fans here and the international audience, including equestrian fans. Walk us through this play, please."

I had choices, and chose the most audacious. "Well, as you can see, Miss Haily Hart King's hand is being extended by my two gorgeous sisters, Andi and Mandy, so I could see that she has accepted my proposal by wearing my great-grandmother's ring. I asked her Sunday, and left the ring with her, to give her time to consider her decision. After all, she is an Olympic Runner Up in Show Jumping at age twenty, when the other medalists are in their forties. She's also a model for FLI, for Juliane perfume and cosmetics, and a spokesperson for several charities to which she dedicates her time and money.

"Additionally, she's a full time student at the University of Texas. We're going to do a photo shoot during spring break for FLI's spring and summer lines that will also feature other top models, including America Garcia, who I'm sure most of your fans know from her swimsuit modeling in Belize and her amazing dancing of the Cumbia Norteña.

"Hailey has actually been modeling longer than America, but for audiences in Canada and Europe, where she is also very well known. She's modeled, and attended galas and balls on the arms of royalty, actors, and some of the world's richest men, so her agreeing to marry a country boy like me is the most pleasant surprise of my life, Kirk!"

As fantastic as my breakdown of plays was, that segment was the one that went viral within minutes, and the one I would regret after being asked about it on camera a few hundred times. As my dad says, "it was easier back when there were only four networks, before a thousand internet sites and influences happened!"

I'm sure Hailey regretted her choice to show her answer during the game, too, after a few thousand interviews about it that included several sports networks. Or at least, that was what she claimed.

My sisters held out longer, but even they tired of the celebrity they sought after a few hundred TV and internet interviews, photo shoots, and serving as guides for the 'Ford Ranch - Home of Champions' segment of a Sunday night newscast.

On the good side, Cow County, Cowtown and Cowtown ISD schools are prospering in the limelight cast upon them by all noise of celebrities in their midst, and Millerville and the Hart Ranch are doing better than okay as well.

But that all came later, after Kirk dismissed me and brought the HFC and AD to the mic. The Longhorn traveling band waited it all out, and then we sang The Eyes of Texas with the remaining UT fans, which was most of them. After that, it pretty much went as I predicted to Kirk, other than the required meeting with the AD and SID early Tuesday morning to spell out the week's itinerary. I was prepared to balk if Hailey wasn't allowed to go with me, but they brought it up and said she would get the same allowances from her teachers that I would if she went with me.

I reluctantly agreed to invite her, and she just as reluctantly agreed to go, squealing with joy as she hung up. We did a noontime slot in Atlanta, flew to Nashville for an afternoon show, and then reversed to Miami for a local show with strong viewership at seven pm. Our flight to New York was delayed by thunderstorms, but we were in the air before 10 eastern, so we caught a few winks en route and at the hotel.

For the sake of propriety, we had separate rooms... adjacent, with connecting doors. Bunny was sweepy, but the shower woke her up, and we finished in our bed what cooling shower water had postponed. Sex with Hailey was never worse than wonderful, but the short night and long day had taken its toll on both of us, and our spooned sleep was refreshing, if short. We had morning shows to do in New York, beginning with GMA, and then along Times Square to the third hour of Today, where we were hosted by Dylan and Jenna, a proud UT grad and Longhorns fan. Both were fun, but Dylan's looks and Jenna's personality made that memorable to me, what with the two blondes flanking my brunette goddess to practically swoon at her ring and the story behind how she got it.

I sat back, watched, and listened, and then asked myself if I would do any of them if I didn't have Hailey, before deciding Dylan was the woman behind the birth of the term 'MILF'. They did drag Tony Dungey in to talk football with me, but we weren't nearly as entertaining to the mostly female audience as the three giggling beauties, so they got another segment to discuss the life of an Olympic athlete, model, and escort of billionaires and royalty from Middle Eastern and European countries to Galas and Charity Balls.

She wasn't allowed to name names, which freed Hailey to tell entertaining and funny stories about some of her dates. The three acted like longtime friends, talking and giggling like girls do when having fun and telling stories without men present. Of course, I was present, Coach was present, and there were probably millions of men watching, but they ignored us and had fun.

They exchanged emotional goodbyes when their last segment ended, and pledged to get together again as soon as they could. Chris, the AD, and John, the SID, were awestruck by Hailey's ability to communicate with anyone, and by her lack of nerves and inhibitions while on camera. "Rod, you're the best football player we've had when it comes to handling the media, and Kirk recognized your ability on the stage," Chris said, "but Hailey is a media star! Being entirely mercenary, she will raise enough money for the Texas Equestrian team to travel, be dressed, and be mounted with the best of them. Even more, she will raise money for athletics and scholarships, and will entice other high achievers like her to attend the university! We should call her Rainwoman, because she's going to make it rain dollars!"

Hailey heard that as she sidled up to me, put her arms around me, and gave me that hug that means she's horny. She said nothing, but when they asked us to lunch with them, she replied that she was tired and needed a nap, and thought I did too. It wasn't what she said, it was the way she said it that made them grin and say okay, before reminding us of the six o'clock taping for the late show.

We did get in a nap, between two 'fantastic' rated sexcapades and a nap. We showered and donned the FLI clothing flown in for this appearance. She whistled at me and I gawped at her, before telling her we were coming back here immediately after the taping and I was going to rip that semblance of a dress off her luscious body and use it for my own satisfaction. She gave me her best grin and reminded me that we had agreed to go eat with the AD and SID, and meet Jenna, Dylan, and their husbands at a trendy nightclub for an hour or so.

I assured her I knew nothing of the trendy nightclub deal, and I might have to have her in the limo on the way if she insisted we go. "Maybe, if you're a good boy and hold up your end of the conversation with Jimmy. He has a lot of viewers, and we need to be at our best."

I wasn't required to do much to hold up my end of the conversation, which was mostly Jimmy telling her things she loves to hear about herself, and inviting her to talk about our 'rocky' love affair, her decision to leave fame and fortune in Equestrian and enroll at UT, our engagement, and our future plans. She drew tears with our love story, laughter about our open-ended engagement and her decision to announce it on national television, and chuckles when she admitted. "Future plans? I'll have to defer to Rod on that - we haven't gotten that far, yet."

The cameras turned to me, and I acknowledged, "I'll have to defer to God on that. Every time we make plans, he laughs and implements his own. We have love and commitment - we'll run with that, and sometime down the road, on some lucky date like 7/27/27, we'll pick a site and make our pledges before our families and the Lord. But until then, she's wearing a ring to ward off evil spirits and men with evil intentions for my betrothed, and I'm pledged to her in body and spirit."

I didn't say much, but it got me a very nice reward on the way to the trendy nightclub in our closed off limousine. Dylan was still luscious, and Jenna was still Miss Personality. Their hubbies were nice enough, but relatively unimpressive in comparison to their spouses. What they shared was a love of and commitment to their wives, which was rewarded similarly.

Of course, they probably thought I was unimpressive compared to my bubbly, personable, and luscious looking fiancée, with whom both danced while I danced with their wives. Jenna was a delight to hold and talk to on the dance floor, but I sprang a hard on that Dylan termed "Confidence building, when a woman my age excites a young stud like you!"

I replied with my theory that she was the face and body behind the emergence of the term 'MILF' and got a tight hug for my theory. "If only," she whispered, and I replied, "If only." And that ended that.

Fortunately, we were the first back to the table, but I was not the only one with a hard on - Hailey's partner tired to hide one too. We finished our drinks, and Jenna announced, "We need to get home, before Henry loses what dancing with Hailey caused. I want to bounce up and down on that before I have to get up and go to work at four a. m.!" We all laughed, and Dylan looked down at her husband - "She caused Brian the same distress, Jenna; let's get in those limos and get started!"

Hailey looked at mine and added, "And I want to bounce up and down on what you two caused Rod to develop, so good night, and we hope to party with you guys again sometime!"

As soon as we got in the car, Hailey told our driver to take us to the hotel, and to lower the curtain. Then she asked, "Do I need to worry about Dylan? She's forty, you know," while removing her panties and raising her tiny dress about a foot to her waist.

"Age isn't a deterrent, but you are. She's sort of a blonde, not-as-astoundingly-beautiful version of you, so I find her very attractive, regardless of age. But unless you give me reason, she and I will remain friendly.

"And why are you ragging on me - you gave both hubbies a hardon!"

"Shut up and fuck me - we only have a few blocks back to the hotel!"

"And then all night in the hotel, insatiable fiancée of mine."

"Before we have to get up and fly to Chicago and Los Angeles!" she complained.

"And then back to Austin," I reminded her. "Where we have classes to make up!" she reminded me.

Our midday return to Austin was via Bill Harlan's Cessna, with Bill Harlan, and both Chris and John were impressed. "I sure was glad to get your call, boy! Been wanting to talk to you and this shiny thing here ever since she lit up the board at the game! And Congratulations on that win! Instant classic game, for sure!

"Now, Sweetheart, sit down her by old Bill and explain why you turned down my Sugar Baby offer in favor of this boy's offer?"

Affecting her best Canadian version of a southern accent, she replied, "Well, Sugar Daddy Bill, that was a very fine offer, but he and I have been through a lot together, and I just couldn't turn him down. All things being equal, I'd of picked you, of course, but he and I have enough history that I just couldn't say no."

He roared with laughter, slapped me on the back, made Hailey sit on his lap, and told us he'd fly us anywhere in the world for our honeymoon, so just let him know. He hugged Hailey, shook my hand again, wished us the best, and promised a very nice wedding present if he and the missus were invited. Hailey scolded him and told him not to give us any more presents - he'd done enough already, rescuing us from Calgary and Los Angeles!

He leaned back and looked her over while she moved from his lap to mine, as if he hadn't already, and said, "I liked the scrubs on you, but this little number is even nicer! Another FLI dress?"

She jumped up and modeled 'this little number', complete with twirl that briefly exposed her matching bikini panties; Bill's eyes almost popped out, but so did Chris and John's. They might be old enough to be her father or grandfather, but they had appreciation for womanly charms, even in a twenty-years-old woman child.

Bill winked and asked if she needed a nap, back in the sleeping compartment. She giggled, said she did and I did too! She took my hand and we walked back, disappearing into the compartment. That was the first time Chris and John had the opportunity to visit with one of their university's biggest donors, in an informal setting that they had nothing to do with creating, and they were wise enough to enjoy the time getting to know the character that is Bill Harlan.

The pilot interrupted our nap with a warning that we were entering the landing pattern for AUS. We scrambled to get clean and dressed so we had a few minutes with Bill before landing. Hailey looked as beautiful and put together as usual, except her lipstick was gone, to a place they couldn't see. She quickly replaced that with a tube from her purse; we sat and visited through the landing and taxiing to the private terminal.

Bill was continuing on to Htown, but a car was waiting to take us to the university. It, however, was surrounded by a crowd that was large enough to have police maintaining the side by the taxi lane to keep them safe. We - Hailey and I - were honestly surprised, but John and Chris weren't.

They deplaned first, then Hailey and Bill, who she insisted on getting out and enjoying the crowd with, and whose arm she insisted on taking. Their cheers were far greater than the AD and SID got, and they played to the crowd as they walked down the stairs, raising the volume even more. I was ordered to go last, so I watched through a window, giving them time to be encompassed by the enthusiastic crowd.

After a few minutes, Bill and Hailey returned to the stairs and she called up to the plane: "Rod it's okay; they're friendly!" as if I was scared. That drew a huge laugh; I plastered on the smile their combined presence brought to my face, and stepped onto the platform atop the stairs.

I basked in the roar, waving and smiling like a politician, but it was heartfelt in my case. The TV and podcast appearances had mostly been fun, though I would give most a C for creativity, having asked the same questions we had answered again and again, as if their listeners/watchers were unique and hadn't heard it before. We frequently veered off script to spice things up, which was largely appreciated, but threw some of the 'influencers' out of their comfort zone.

But these were our people - I recognized many of the faces, and the burnt orange and white clothing exposed the rest as brethren. That made it easy to call Bill and Hailey back up to the platform, which was a treat of another kind, given her little skirt.

I thanked Bill for disrupting his busy schedule to come rescue us twice, and for being a good friend in time of need. I gave him a manly hug, and Hailey gave him a womanly hug, which he seemed to really appreciate. Then she gave me a hug, and I remembered why.

She tucked herself under my arm, with her arm around my waist and mine around her shoulders. I kissed her on top of her crown of chocolate curls, whispered I love you, and soaked in the cheering. I knew they were here because I'm a football hero, which is a fleeting status, but I thought they might be here to celebrate with Hailey and I as well. When I raised her ringed finger, my theory was proven.

She might be an Olympics medalist and model of international renown, and I might be a football cum rodeo star, but we were really just a couple of twenty-year-olds in love. We had classes in which to expand our knowledge base and learn life skills, photo shoots and modeling to do for money and our friends, and we had a university setting in which to develop our personalities and personal skills as well.

We were young, but we had decided to become committed to one another, and to engage in all The University of Texas and the City of Austin had to offer young couples. It had been one helluva ride to get here, and it would be a helluva ride to graduation and marriage. But I was confident in Hailey as my life partner, and confident in my love and commitment to her. With our rocky pathway behind us, we will surely grow and prosper together.

****

Bold prediction, Rod, given the dimensions of the rocky pathway. Guess we'll see how it goes - good luck!