Way too long. I could hear others chasing us, but no one was in a position to intercept. The space between us got smaller: ten feet, five feet, three ...eet, but he was too close to the goal line.Hero or goat time. I launched myself. I'd look like an idiot if I missed. The gun for the first half went off as I was in the air. I landed, my arms around his legs. He was down! There was mud in my eyes. I couldn't see. Had he crossed? Had he crossed?I let go of his legs, rolled onto my back, and wiped. Some Saturday mornings they would wake up and hope they could get away without waking the 'luck giver'. ('A two at Ten, is a 10 at Two.' Someone you wouldn't be caught dead with at 10pm looks whole lot better at 2am. That is an unwritten Murphy's Law.)"All those beer bottles pitched out of car windows on Friday night are a teenagers Saturday fun."The first thing you do is raid the furniture. Daddy had a favorite chair he'd nap in. There'd be a weeks worth of change in the cushions. It might. More

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