Lisa Schroeder - The Bridge from You to Me

“You’ve made it. You’re here. And I know you’re going to go out there and play harder than you’ve ever played before. So all I want to say right now, to each and every one of you, is enjoy it. Look up at those people, cheering for you, and take it in. Feel their love for you and this team and our small town, and play with full, proud, happy hearts.

“I believe in you.

“They believe in you.

“But what got you here is the belief in yourself. You never gave up. And that right there is the true sign of a winner, regardless of what happens out there tonight.”

He smiles and turns around. Waves at someone. And from the door that leads outside to the field, in walks Benny.

As soon as we see him, we yell like the place is on fire. He’s got a helmet on his head. Not a football helmet, but a special protective helmet. He comes in slowly, all by himself, a grin as wide as the Willamette River on his face.

Soon, we’re yelling his name. “Benny, Benny, Benny.”

Coach lets it go on for a minute, then motions with his hands for us to quiet down, so we do. And then he turns to Benny and says, “You have something to say to us, don’t you, Lewis?”

He looks at us, holds his fists up in the air, and yells, “I believe!”

It is loud and strong and true.

“I believe!” we yell back.

And in that moment, through all the mixed emotions I have about everything that’s happened in the past twenty-four hours, I do believe.

In the locker room, Coach comes down hard on us for the stupid mistakes we made in the first half.

“Too many lost opportunities!” he says. “And if you don’t find your focus and play the way I know you can play, this entire game will be a lost opportunity.”

He talks about courage and teamwork. About dedication and drive. About putting it all on the line right now, because this is it. This is all we’ve got.

“This is the end of the story,” he tells us. “Right here. It’s up to you how you want to write it. How you want to be remembered. But even more importantly, how you want to remember this night for the rest of your lives.”

He finishes up, and we take a minute for ourselves before we break and hit the field.

I’m trying to focus on what I need to do when we go out there again, but I can’t stop thinking about the surprise I got a little while ago. As we were running into the locker room at the half, I looked up at the crowd, trying to spot my dad sitting with Gram and Grandpa.

I couldn’t find them.

But I saw four blue-and-gold hats, all in a row. I’d know those awesome hats anywhere.

My heart feels like a balloon about to pop, because she’s here. Whether she’s going to the airport afterward, who knows, but she’s here now. She couldn’t stay away.

This must have been how Superman felt when he found out Lois Lane had feelings for him.

I bet Superman would have been a helluva football player.

We did it. We took state.

There is running, yelling, and group hugging, and then, when I get a chance, I stand there for a moment and take it all in.

The cheering blue-and-gold crowd.

The final score in bright lights.

The feeling that anything truly is possible, with the right people by your side.

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. All I know is right now, despite everything that’s happened this season, we did what we set out to do.

It’s amazing to know I was a part of something the town will talk about forever. And it’s something good .

Finally. Something good.

If someone in the stands needed some hope that things will be all right, they got a good, healthy dose of it tonight.

All of us did.

After the celebratory Gatorade is poured all over Coach and we’ve told every one of our opponents “Good game” as nice sportsmen do, we scatter to find our families, who stream onto the field.