EVERYBODY dreams of scoring the big goal. I can honestly say I’ve spent more time contemplating my celebrations than I have on the wall. And, I love wall ball.
Heading into overtime, I had two celebrations in mind. One was a fist pump inspired by the best scene from Blue Streak 0:30-0:39
The other celebration was inspired by perhaps the most handsome soccer player in the world today 0:17-0:26
Unfortunately a Western Michigan defender cleaned my grandfather clock after the shot found the back of the old onion bag so I had to pick up my body, push him aside and then I took off running dodging and weaving my teammates like some other famous Pittsburgh athlete
My finger was up in the air pointing to who I thought were the Western Michigan fans for about 10 yards and then everything went black.
Apparently, a loving teammate clothes lined me and then I was under the pile. Teammates later said it looked hilarious seeing my feet sticking out.
A brief description of my thoughts while under the pile:
“This is really great. I scored the winning goal in overtime. I just made at least 5 new friends. Uh oh, I’m still covered in teammates. It’s really dark. This hurts.” (followed by screams of agony)
Last spring I was coaching high school lacrosse, a 145 pound sophomore attackman scored a winning goal and was subsequently destroyed in the pile. Teammates said they could hear him yelling, “I can’t breath! I can’t breath!”
After I emerged from the massacre, my leg that had cramped up briefly ten seconds prior to the game winner was in full rage. I almost asked to be carried back to the sideline. My head was woozy as woozy can get. But of course the pure jubilation of ripping a corner in overtime allowed me to brovercome all odds. Pitt 9 Western Michigan 8
We won and then I: