National Championship

By Otis Odom

The stadium lights are shining bright as the teams jog out on the field. I am hyped and ready to show how a true freshman can shine on one of the biggest stages of an athlete’s college career. The opponent’s fans are screaming, “Let’s go Cougars, let’s go!”

Looking up in the stands at the hundreds of Reinhardt Eagles fans, some are standing, but most of them are sitting and yelling out names of the different players. I can see my entire family in the stands there to support me.

I am so ready to get this game started and score on special teams.

A couple of days before the big game, the team had practiced at Valdosta High School. During practice, I dropped several punts. From the sideline, I heard Coach Blue say to one of my teammates, “Chambliss, you’re up!” I knew in that moment I was in trouble.

I said, “I can’t catch shit.”

Before the next punt was kicked, I felt a heavy hand grab my shoulder and turn me around aggressively. There I was, looking up at a six-foot-tall white man with an aggravated look on his face. Coach Miller asked, “Son, what’s going on?”

I responded in an agitated voice, “The ball keeps going every which way at the last second.”

He turned away from me and looked toward my teammate, then said, “Okay, Chambliss, come catch punts.”

In my head, after every kick, I was hoping he would drop one so I could keep my spot.

Chambliss didn’t drop one punt.

My teammate next to me yelled out, “Good job, Ronnie!”

Then Coach Miller said, “Otis, come catch this last punt.”

I said to myself, No pressure, Otis. Just breathe and relax.

I caught it, and we ended practice.

Now, I still can’t believe I’m at the National Championship game as I catch punts from the kicker at warm-ups. I do a little dancing, trying to get a relaxed vibe going. As I am catching my final punt before warm-ups are over, I hear a fan say, “Oh yeah, Otis! We are going to get one today!”

I can’t let everybody in the stands down. Big-time players make bigtime plays in big games.

All my teammates are jumping and clapping around me after I catch the punt. They are yelling, “Yeeeaaaa!”

It’s showtime! I have a little grin on my face. It’s nothing but a normal game, but I’ve got to make a big play.

Prior to the game starting, we huddle up as an entire team to pray. At the end of the prayer, we break it down, saying, “Family!” That is the loudest we’ve ever sounded. That sends cold chills through my body and puts a smile on my face.

My mind is racing so fast. There are so many thoughts going through my head. What if we get the ball first? What if I have to receive a punt before the kickoff return?

Through all of this, I still wear a smile on my face, but if you could only know the thoughts that are going through my mind, you would say to yourself, “Looks can be deceiving.”

Coach Miller runs over to me with a grin on his face and reaches his hand out for a handshake.

I reach out mine, still smiling. My mind is still racing.

The Coach then yells, “You’re okay, kid. You’re one of the best returners in the nation.”

I respond, “I appreciate that, Coach.”

In a mellow tone, he questions, “Do you want to start off kick return first or receive a punt first?”

I respond, “It doesn’t matter, Coach. I’m just ready to get the ball in my hand and make a play.”

Why did I just lie to him like that? Now I probably will be doing something I don’t want to do first.

He then says, “Okay, I believe in you. Just don’t force trying to make a play. Be patient and let it just happen.”

“Yes sir, Coach,” I respond. If he believes I am the best, then I know I am the best, and no one can stop me. That’s the only thing I could say in my head to help keep calm and keep a smile on my face rather than having a nervous look.

Ten minutes later, it is time to shine. Coach Blue yells, “Punt return team, get ready!” He starts calling all the players he needs to take the field.

Coach Foster, a middle-aged, five-foot-eleven man, comes over, smiling at me. He puts one hand on my shoulder pad, while the other hand is patting softly on my helmet. He says, “It’s your time, big fella, and you will be lined up at the 45-yard line.”

Then Coach Blue screams, “Punt return team, take the field.”

I run onto the field jumping and clapping, trying to hide my nervousness from the coaches and fans. While sitting back there at the 45-yard line, my mind has been racing with different ideas, and my body is tingling with adrenaline.

The ball is snapped to the kicker and the punt is on its way to me. The ball is sailing down towards my hands when the unthinkable happens. The ball hits my hands and falls onto the turf.

“Big-time players make big-time plays in big games.”

That did not just happen. Get it together, Otis, and go get the ball.

Now it’s me and my teammates, along with the other team, all pushing and jumping over each other for the ball.

The Cougars finally recover the ball at the 45-yard line.

My mind is racing. I just let my team down. I jog back over to the bench. All I can hear are fans chanting, “Let’s go, Cougars!”

What in the hell just happened?

As I finally make it over to the sideline, still holding my head down in disbelief, I hear my teammates saying, “O, you’re good. Keep your head up.”

My mind still races, trying to understand. I have made this catch what seem like a million times. Then I hear Coach Blue yell, “Chambliss, you’re up!”

That’s when I know I am done. That “Why didn’t I just give Coach an honest answer? Maybe I could have been in a different situation” thought starts racing in my head. I embarrassed my family and myself. I am now done after one quarter. Now my family has to watch my team go to war without me.

I finally look up in the stands to make eye contact with my family. I see the mean mug on my mother’s and father’s faces.

When I see the shrug my auntie gives me, I just know that we are all on the same page.

This little phrase, “Chambliss, you’re up” plays a huge role in my life today. Every time I am back to receive a punt, that phrase shoots through my head. From a negative perspective, I feel as though I can’t make a mistake on the field, which adds a lot of pressure. This puts more pressure on me than it really should.

However, there is a positive that has come from this phrase. I’ve learned that nothing is ever given to you. You have to work for everything you want in life, and the second you let up is the second someone can come in and take your spot.

Otis Odom is a sophomore Communication major from Atlanta, GA. His favorite memory is when Dr. Wilson told him his writing had come a long way. His plans after graduation are to work in sports media, either as a broadcaster or on his own show.