September 18, 2009. I remember it like it was one year ago.
Cheers, chants, and yells surrounded me from all angles. My heart was pounding, I was sweating, and my hair was a little messy but I couldn’t care less. All that mattered was that one moment. The shutter of my camera whirred as it captured the action in front of me. The quarterback yelled out a play and the team moved into position. Click. I reviewed the shot in front of me. Adjusting my lens, I got ready for the touchdown.
“AVERY MOVE!”
My friend’s voice was faint but distinctive. Of course, I didn’t think anything of it. Why would I move? I had the perfect spot. I ignored my friend and her jokes and went back to my camera. I was going to get the winning shot. Or, so I thought. Next thing I know, I‘m on my back looking up at a very large, very confused looking football player. I had been tackled.
Well, this certainly hadn’t been listed under the description of Yearbook Editor. The two years I had been on staff had always been relatively safe, save for the occasional angry parent or rogue tennis ball. In the year leading up to being named Editor I jumped at every chance I had to impress my advisor. I turned in my copy a week early, I went and did interviews for other member’s spreads, I drove to east of infinity to take pictures of the regional qualifier swim meet. When my name was announced as the 2010-2011 Yearbook Editor, I was ecstatic. All my hard work had finally paid off. Now, it was my senior year and I was on top. Nothing would bring me down, or so I thought.
The following Monday, I received a note from the athletic office. As I stared at the envelope, I wondered what might become of me. Surely, the coaches must be angry for ruining their play. Maybe they were going to give me detention or worse: have me tackled again. Hands trembling, I opened the envelope.
“On behalf of the TImberwolves, we would like to invite you to be a honorary linebacker of the football team.”
I attended many a football game after that night. There’s been nail biters, there’s been snoozers, and there’s been streakers. But no game will ever compare to the night I became an honorary Timberwolf.