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Twisted Tales of Time Travel – Chapter 16

By Carla Birnberg

“Scoot over!”

I looked to see who had spoken and, although the gentleman wore a helmet, it was clear I was no longer on Mars.

The man continued, “Excuse me little lady, but would you shift down so Law can sit?”

Although he phrased it as a question, I could tell by his voice that he was clearly telling me to scoot down the bench. Fast.

I slid quickly down the metal away from a sweaty football player. “I must find Michael,” I thought. “Immediately.”

I’ve done fine on my own during some of our travizzles. When I met Arnold, for example, it was fun being by myself.

“In fact,” I mused. “If we travizzle to the Oscars this year I’d love to go alone. Then I might get to hang out with Ashton Kutcher.”

Reluctantly, my thoughts returned to the problem at hand; my lack of football knowledge and my lack of Michael.

“Over here!”

I turned carefully and tried not to fall off the sliver of bench I’d been given. I looked in the direction of the voice and saw that a hand waved to me. I’d recognize those bitten fingernails anywhere; it was Michael. I leapt to my feet and squeezed through the crowd on the Patriots Super Bowl sidelines. What can I say? Even this non-football fan knew the Super Bowl was in Houston. I’d forgotten which teams were playing until I was surrounded by Patriots players and saw all the Panthers hats.

“Michael! I’m so thankful you’re here.”

Michael was leaning against a humongous camera and he had a big grin on his face.

“I’m so pumped that I’m a photographer, Rose. This is my chance to take a picture that might get shown on Sports Center,” Michael started to hum the ESPN theme song.

“I’m happy for you,” I said and attempted to sound excited.

Michael held up a duffle bag, “I even have extra cameras in case I need a digital.” He noticed my long face and said, “You look frazzled. What’s your job?”

“That’s the problem. I have no clue why I’m here and we both know football isn’t my gift.” Michael and I laughed as we remembered our Longhorn travizzle.

“Maybe this is a vacation travizzle for you and you won’t have to do anything!” I noticed that, as Michael talked, he stole glances back toward his cameras.

“Go ahead,” I told him. “You’re here to record the Super Bowl in pictures. I’ll find--”

“Coach Dennis?” A man tapped my shoulder. “Head Coach Belichik is looking for you.” The man lowered his voice and whispered, “He’s kind of panicked and you’re good at calming him down.”

As he led me away Michael whispered to me emphatically, “That’s Coach Hufnagel, the quarterback coach.”

“Okay good,” I thought, “One thing I do know is that the Patriots’ quarterback is Tom Brady.”

I was proud that I knew who the Patriots quarterback is. Of course, as often happened in my weird life, I knew this fact for all the wrong (non-football) reasons.

Tom Brady is the guy who sat with Laura Bush at the State of the Union Address. The First Lady chose him because of how he helped the community with his sports camps. He also happens to be the Patriots quarterback. See what I mean?

I was yanked from my thoughts by a red-faced man who carried a clipboard.

“Dennis, where have you been?” The man demanded. “No matter,” he continued before I could respond. “Coach Bilichik is waiting and he needs your advice.”

“Okay,” I said unsure exactly which clipboard-holder was Bilichik.

Twisted Tales of Time Travel – Chapter 15

By Carla Birnberg

I needn’t have worried as the next person I ran into (literally) wore an identification card around his neck that read ‘Bilichik.’ Phew.

“You were looking for me?” I asked and hoped I hadn’t misread his tag.

“Yes. Everywhere. Three points or a Hail Mary?” He demanded to know.

“Excuse me?” I replied, confused as to his meaning.

“Wake up Coach Dennis! We’re behind 21-24. I brought you here because of your reputation for swift game time decisions.”

“Three points or--”

“Dennis!” The coach interrupted, “What should we do? Long field goal or Hail Mary?”

“Hail Mary,” I said slowly. “Um, I’ve used that phrase when I’ve made last ditch efforts in school. I’ve heard my mom say she’s giving a Hail Mary sales pitch at work. Uh…”

“Hail Mary? Are you suggesting a Hail Mary? Dennis, work with me here!” Bilichik yelled.

“Yes, Coach B, tell Brady definitely a Hail Mary,” I answered confidently.

I watched as the coach fired rapid instructions into his headset and then I strained to see what happened next on the playing field.

I’m tall for my age, but I couldn’t see anything around these behemoths. More importantly I wanted to find Michael to see if, in all the mayhem, he had gotten his one perfect Sports Center picture. I was almost downfield when I finally spotted Michael. He was surrounded by massive uniformed Patriots players and I caught a glimpse of him as he made a valiant attempt to squeeze his big camera through the bodies. No such luck, those guys weren’t budging.

I then saw determination in Michael’s eyes as he created a Hail Mary moment of his own. He grabbed the digital camera, jumped as high as his legs would push, held the camera way over his head, and simply snapped away.

I watched Michael’s last-ditch effort and realized that, even more than I wanted the receiver to catch Brady’s pass, I wanted my friend to capture his picture.

This idea for this week’s chapter was submitted by Paden Coats, a student at Bailey Middle School.

Carla Birnberg lives in Austin and leads local book clubs.

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