Mo's Manic Monday - Clue
Posted: Monday, September 10, 2007 by Travis Cody inReal quick...even though she doesn't know about my blog, I want to wish my mom a happy birthday. She's 65 today. Love ya Mom!!
Welcome to Manic Monday with Morgen. Don't forget to cruise by MM HQ at It's A Blog Eat Blog World. Today's theme is Clue.
I missed my first Manic Monday last week. Luckily, I'm finished with the busiest six weeks I've been through with my current job. I still have stuff to catch up, but nothing that is on a critical deadline.
Too much work makes me tired and cranky. Being tired and cranky takes away the urge to write. Not writing is unacceptable.
So I thought I would take the MM word this week and write. The first thing that the word Clue brought to mind was tension and suspense. In honor of NFL opening weekend, I present my story snippet.
Clue
He didn’t have a clue what he was going to do.
There was no time to think.
He thought he saw danger to his right, the strong safety dancing close in behind the defensive end, but when he turned his head he wasn’t sure. His eyes snapped back left...something had caught his attention. Did a linebacker shift?
Straight ahead? An extra defensive back rotated in, but that strong safety was back deep again.
He didn’t know. He must think. He must find the key.
Should he send the slot receiver in motion? No...that would uncover the tackle and force his wide out into double coverage. He needed both those receivers in place on the right. Force the safeties to make a choice, and get single coverage on a quick out for the first down.
Shift the tight end to the H, and hold the running back in place to pick up the blitz. That's it.
No! It's not a blitz...is it? Seconds on the play clock...figure it out!
There! The clue he needed was suddenly right in front of him. It was so simple. Hours of study finally paid off as he barked the answer.
“Mike-25! Mike-25! Z-Red-19! Z-Red-19! Go!”
Twenty-one men crashed into action in front of him as the football floated into his hands five yards behind the line of scrimmage. As his fingers curled around it he turned and sprinted to his right, slipping behind the perfect line of protection his offensive line created. He heard pops and grunts as defenders strove to break through.
He cocked the football behind his right ear and set his feet. He couldn’t see the receiver, but he trusted that his audible was correct. He breathed in deeply and his arm shot forward.
The pain was fierce as the defender crushed into him and drove him into the ground. All the breath exploded from his lungs. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t hear. All he wanted was air.
He had no clue whether his solution had worked.
The End
Sigh. Football. Don'tcha love it?
Happy Birthday, Trav's mom! You raised a good one.
(Oh, and you've done well to only miss one MM. I haven't missed one yet, but there have been times...)