“Tony Romo’s fumbled snap in last year’s playoffs continues to haunt me to this day. As I set up to kick a momentum-swinging field goal to bring the score within one, I let the football slip under my finger. The ball was not slick, nor was it a hold for a game-winning kick, but it was equally depressing.”
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Tony Romo’s fumbled snap in last year’s playoffs continues to haunt me to this day.

As I set up to kick a momentum-swinging field goal to bring the score within one, I let the football slip under my finger.

The ball was not slick, nor was it a hold for a game-winning kick, but it was equally depressing.

I blame it on Cleveland.

Prior to the game, three professionally made paper footballs emblazoned with NFL team logos were placed in front of me.

I could not see the labels but my choices were the New York Jets, San Francisco 49ers or Cleveland Browns.

As I cautiously chose, I prayed I would not get the Browns, for I knew an impending doom would be in my future.

I picked up the paper football, turned it over and knew it was over before it began.

I lined the Browns football up for the opening kickoff and sailed it an amazing one inch.

Fleming scored easily, and while I countered a few minutes later with a score, I missed the extra point.

He went on to score 17 unanswered points.

I couldn’t be John Elway.

My game was shaken and though the score was 47-42, I could feel a loss looming over my head.

I commend Fleming on his win, but there are reports swirling around campus that a man was seen shooting HGH in the bathroom at around 3:40 p.m.

Kickoff was at 3:47 p.m.

You do the math.

It’s no wonder that the field goals he was kicking were nearly knocking me through the windows of the Student Union.

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