“You do that.”

After halftime, Liz settled in her seat for the game. The Traders got the ball to score the second half, and Cole took a pass from Cassidy on a key third-down play and ran it in for a touchdown.

The family went crazy celebrating. With the game tied, Liz felt the tension and excitement in the suite. And when the Sabers kicked a field goal near the end of the third quarter, it was crunch time. The game was so close, the teams so evenly matched, she had no idea how the fourth quarter was going to play out.

The first eight minutes of the fourth quarter was a nail biter, totally defensive on both sides. No points were scored, and neither team could make any headway.

On a critical third down, Mick had the ball and did a rollout, looking for receivers. The Sabers defenders pushed hard. Liz cringed when the defensive back came around past the offensive lineman, making a beeline for Mick.

Tara stood. “Oh, shit,” she whispered.

Liz had heard her, though, and thought much the same thing. Mick was going to get sacked.

But Mick must have seen him, because he tucked the ball in and made a run for it, the offensive line turning to block for him. Since they hadn’t expected the run, and especially not from Mick, he had an open field and ran for fifteen yards and a first down.

Tara jumped up and threw her arms in the air and roared out a warrior-worthy yell. The guys all clapped and Mick’s dad, who sat next to Gavin, grinned broadly as he slapped Gavin on the back.

“Did ya see that?”

Gavin grinned back. “I did, Dad. Pretty damned good for an old guy like Mick.”

“Old guy my butt. That kid still has a lot of years of football left in him.”

“I agree with your dad,” Liz said. “He might be a little over thirty, but Mick is still a champion.”

And he proved it by throwing three completions on the next three plays, one to Kip Meecham, their hotshot young rookie tight end for a touchdown, which put the Sabers ahead with three minutes left to go.

But the Traders weren’t the kind of team to give up. Cassidy took the ball after the kickoff and they drove down the field to the thirty-five yard line. There were twenty-five seconds to go and the Traders had one time-out left. The tension was so thick in the stadium it seemed as if no one was even breathing.

And when Cassidy handed it off to the running back, who ran for twelve yards, they called a time-out and brought in the kicker to try for a field goal.

“I can’t even breathe,” Savannah said, clutching Liz’s hand tight.

The field goal was good. The game was tied.

They were going to overtime.

“This is intense,” Tara said, heading to the bar. “I need a damn drink.”

“I’m going with you,” Savannah said.