Hearing the fans scream gave me such a rush. I wasn’t expecting my introduction to make such an impact, but when I was announced, I was given a standing ovation. I waved and smiled, swallowing the lump that lodged itself in my throat. If I cried now, nobody would take me seriously. I found my dad on the fifty-yard line wearing a Cheetahs polo and whistling. I blew him a kiss and waved back. This was a big moment and as much as I hated attention, I loved every second. I was the first female offensive coordinator and people were celebrating my milestone. I wanted to fall to my knees and cry for every success and every failure I ever had on the football field. Instead, I took my spot on the sideline with the Cheetahs and waited patiently until kickoff. There were still another ten minutes of pre-game rituals before the game even started. The Browns won the toss and deferred. We were getting the ball first.

“Get out there and get good field position,” Bill yelled. He looked patient waiting for the kickoff. I was ready to jump out of my skin.

Ian Camper, our kick returner, caught the football and was off. It was so hard not to race beside him on the sideline. He broke through the first wave of tacklers. When he got to the forty, all of us started yelling. Not only was he slipping through holes the special teams created, but he was on track to run it all the way to the end zone. I clutched Bill’s arm unprofessionally as we watched the twenty-two-year-old walk-on from my alma mater stiff-arm the kicker and run it in for the first touchdown in the Cheetahs’ history book. Everyone went wild.

“If that doesn’t motivate all of us, I don’t know what will,” Bill yelled.

Ian raced over to Bill and handed him the ball. “That one was for you, Coach.” Fuck. I started tearing up. I turned my back and grabbed my tablet from the bench just to remove myself from the moment. We still had a whole game to play. I couldn’t afford to be outwardly emotional.

When Grayson threw the winning touchdown pass with forty-two seconds left in the game and our defense took the field to sack their quarterback, I celebrated. I wiped away tears and laughed as the linemen surprised Bill with the ceremonious Gatorade shower. I ran when I saw them coming.

I asked security to bring my dad down on the field. I smiled as I absorbed the atmosphere of our stadium and the fans who stuck around to watch our first win. I did my first solo interview with NBC’s Monica Meadows who was one of the few journalists I trusted. She was a reporter on the sidelines on big games and I knew she wasn’t going to blindside me with sexist questions.