Ada running back Shiloh Windsor suddenly broke into the Ardmore secondary last Friday night and kicked into high gear before heading 79 yards for a touchdown.
It was one of the few highlights for a young Ada team that hasn't quite figured itself out yet.
That'll come in time but the Ardmore kid who chased him to the goal — indeed, the kid who caught up to him and was so close you couldn't see air between them for about 20 yards — will spend the next 40 years beating himself up for not at least trying to make that tackle.
Not sure he could've if he would've, just that he's got the rest of his life to ponder what he should've.
You say, so what? He's not our kid. Who cares?
Just this. Most people who play high school football, regardless of which team, never play again once their senior season ends. What they're left with are the memories and their mental corrections.
Those are the ones where the mind goes back to instant replay, only in the retelling, adjustments are made that alter the outcome from a negative to a positive.
I knew a kid like that who once moved from one town to another 30 miles down the road.
Because of that, he had a chance to go back the next football season and play against his old teammates.
Along about the third quarter, this former teammate breaks into the secondary and is leaning toward the goal line, which is still 80 yards away.
The kid who moved down the road knows this kid well.
He's a tough, hard running back, quite a bit bigger than himself. He also knows his former teammate wears a knee brace and is kind of flat-footed.
The kids all called him Cool because he had a nice Ford Galaxie with a continental kit on the back. (Ask your dad for a definition, sonny. I'm busy telling this story, OK?)