Good Night

Alabama had chased us relentlessly until the very last moment, but when the dust settled, the winner of tonight was us.

Beside me, James Cook was screaming his lungs out.

“WE'RE SURVIVE! WE'RE SURVIVE!!”

Just like the man said.

We survived.

We'd get to play more football this season.

And the possibility of becoming champions still burned bright.

Win or lose, Nick Saban's decision to go for the two-point PAT at the end deserved its share of praise.

Cut the deficit to the bone on the two-point conversion, then.

Win the possession back and steal it at the buzzer with a field goal. That was the plan.

It failed in the end, sure.

But you could see the obsession with winning in it.

Man, that greedy old codger.

“That was INSANE! You killed it out there tonight!!”

“That's my guy right there.”

“That's My Dawg— Dude!”

I'd won a Super Bowl more times than I could count.

But an NCAA football title? That was a first.

Granted, the National Championship was still ahead of us.

But this was the SEC title, of all things, so it felt special.

As I pulled on the SEC Champions hat the team had made in advance, one thought crossed my mind: the one Alabama had prepared for themselves would never see the light of day.

Call it the cold cruelty of competition.

Defeat always takes so much away from you.

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When Coach Monken told me to get up on the podium, that was how I confirmed I'd been named MVP.

Well, obviously. Who else was it going to be?

Did I do a little something?

And still.

Hearing it out loud made me happy.

There on the podium beside me stood Zamir, up there in his capacity as team captain, and a little ways off, Coach stood with his hands folded in front of the microphone.

And in between them.

Stood Jamie Erdahl.

She spoke.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we proudly present the MVP of the 2020 SEC Championship Game! Dwayne. Moi. Stone—!”

The instant Jamie called my name.

The guys down below started barking like dogs.

“WOOF!! WOOF!!”

“WOOF!!”

I flashed a peace sign at my teammates.

A few of them cracked up laughing.

Not because I'd done anything funny.

It was just that right now, anything I did was the right thing to do.

“Moi?”

“?”

“You've had an unbelievable season as a true freshman quarterback. Looking back, your recruitment was one of the fiercest in the history of college sports — and in the end, you chose Georgia, and in just one year you've led this team to the SEC Championship. How does that feel, and what do you think has driven such rapid growth in you?”

Wow, now that's a good question.

I pulled down the warm-up sleeve I'd been holding over my mouth in place of a mask and stepped up to the standing microphone.

Then I answered.

“Now, Georgia has punched its ticket to the National Championship. You'll need two more wins — how are you feeling?”

“National Champion... wow. Just hearing it gets me fired up. Like you said, two more wins to go — and right now, I'm full of confidence, and I'd bet the guys standing over there are too.”

“We don't have any one guy dragging this team along. Everyone lifts everyone else, and we're ready to bleed and sweat for it every single game. The road ahead won't be easy, but we're going to give everything we have to win. Because that's how we've done it all season.”

After the interview, Coach and the SEC Commissioner each took a turn at the microphone.

And while they spoke, I did.

I looked up at my family, seated way up there.

Any other year, they would have poured down onto the field to celebrate with us, arms wide for hugs — but tonight, this much would have to be enough.

Kind of a shame, honestly.

Couldn't even get a photo.

At last, Zamir and I lifted the SEC Championship Trophy together, and from every direction fireworks of confetti erupted and came showering down.

The guys who'd cheered when the trophy was first hoisted.

Fell quiet as the confetti fell, gazing upward.

Everyone seemed to be feeling something different, something their own.

A little more time standing on this field.

The emotions drifting through this place — I loved every bit of them.

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Drive about nine miles north from downtown Atlanta and you'll find three quiet, immaculate neighborhoods.

West Paces Ferry / Northside.

Tuxedo Park.

Kingswood.

This was one of the most exclusive stretches of old money in the Atlanta area, lined with mansions, each with its own swimming pool.

And one of them in particular.

A estate built on 15,222 square feet of land, complete with an elegant fountain, a pool, and parking for roughly sixteen vehicles.

The owner of this lavish residence — twelve bathrooms and eight bedrooms strong — was Arthur Blank, CEO of Home Depot, the largest home improvement retailer in the world.

Born in Queens, New York, in 1942, Arthur Blank was known as one of the most successful businessmen on the planet.

At the same time, he was.

Also a famously devoted sports fanatic.

Especially.

Football.

Seated in a living room floored with gleaming expensive marble, Arthur Blank watched the massive screen and reached for the speakerphone at his side.

Soon, his hand arrived at a red button.

Click.

Beep—

“Get me Rich.”

One of Blank's assistants answered that she would see to it, and before long, the light atop the speakerphone began to blink.

Then he pressed the white button.

Click.

Beep—

“You saw it too, I take it?”

-The SEC Championship, you mean.

“Right. What else would it be?”

On December 6, 2001, Arthur Blank had agreed to purchase the Atlanta Falcons — then led by Taylor Smith and his family — for $545 million.

The measure passed unanimously at a special meeting held on February 2, 2002, just before that year's Super Bowl, and with that, Arthur Blank became the owner of an NFL franchise, a dream long deferred.

And over the years that followed, Blank had spared no expense.

When the Georgia Dome began to age, he simply built an entirely new stadium, and the team's training facilities were kept at the highest standard money could buy.

In 2004, the team captured its first division title since the move from the NFC West to the South, and in 2010, 2012, and 2016 he watched them rise to the top of the division again and again.

But.

That was exactly where it ended.

Time after time, Atlanta won its Divisional round only to collapse in the NFC Championship, and though they finally reached the Super Bowl in 2016, they fell to New England in an overtime heartbreaker.

The fallout from letting a Super Bowl slip through their fingers — one they could practically touch — was enormous, and Atlanta sank steadily thereafter.

This year, they opened 0-5, fired both their general manager and head coach, and were limping through the season on an interim regime.

Atlanta needed change. Desperately.

“What's your read on tanking?”

-Realistically speaking? Not a bad play at all.

“That's my thinking exactly.”

Atlanta currently ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠stood at 4 wins and 9 losses.

And they intended to finish the season at 4-12.

Interim head coach Raheem Morris had already been informed of the plan, and the active rosters for games were being assembled with an eye toward the future rather than victory.

Under normal circumstances, a starting quarterback might bristle at such a scheme — but Matt Ryan had played thirteen years in Atlanta alone, a franchise man through and through.

He'd signed a five-year, $150 million deal back in 2018, locking him to the team through 2023.

He was, by any measure, one of the greatest players in Falcons history — but the front office's private assessment of him was far less generous.

Because of the shocking performance he'd turned in during the 28-3 collapse in the 2016 Super Bowl.

“When the 2022 season ends, we could use Matt as a trade chip. Plenty of teams want a veteran quarterback with one year left on his deal. A clean generational handoff, in other words.”

-I understand exactly where you're going.

“Good. You saw his interview, didn't you? The kid was born for this. A born leader, and a born star. And isn't he right there at the University of Georgia? Picture it. The day that boy walks into MBS wearing a Falcons uniform.”

The truth was, until this very day, Arthur Blank had hesitated to sketch out his plans for 2023.

Football's calendar left him far too much time, and he worried deeply about what two more years of tanking would bring — the fallout, the fan backlash.

But tonight's game.

Swept every doubt clean away.

To break the curse of Super Bowl 51 and bring Atlanta its first league championship, there was only one non-negotiable: Dwayne Moi Stone.

The 2021 NFL Draft, overflowing with attractive quarterback prospects.

Atlanta would pass on drafting a quarterback entirely.

-I'll speak with Terry tomorrow.

“And report back to me directly.”

-Yes, sir. Talk soon.

Click.

The first aftershock set off by the SEC Championship Game.

The Atlanta Falcons' entry into the 2022 tanking race.

On the heels of the Detroit Lions, who had moved first and moved fast, a second NFL team was now stirring — all for a draft two full years down the road, an absurdity by football's standards.

Arthur Blank rose from his seat and headed for the bar.

Tonight, he needed a very good drink.

After the riotous hour spent in the locker room, I threw myself into the arms of my waiting family.

Every NFL stadium keeps a separate space where family members and invited guests of the players can wait — and it was there that I reunited with a whole crowd of people I hadn't seen in ages.

“Uncle Iwai!”

“Moi!”

Seeing family was the greatest joy of all, but running into the restaurant staff and regulars felt wonderfully surreal too.

There were others as well — the guys I'd played football with back at Kahuku High, every one of whom had hung up the cleats after graduation and gone off to college or found work somewhere in Hawaii.

George and a few of my teammates wandered over and asked for introductions, and I happily obliged.

“Mom? Dad? This is Peter.”

“Oh— we've heard plenty about you.”

“Haha. Really?”

“Yep— we were told you're a good friend of his.”

“Whoa. You actually introduced me like that? Kinda weirded out, man?”

“What exactly do you take me for?”

“A lunatic?”

“Man— that's the correct answer.”

“Kkkkk.”

While we were all mid-laugh, Coach made his way over.

“Well, well. Quite the big family you've got here.”

“Coach!”

I threw a friendly arm around the Coach's shoulder.

Then I introduced the restaurant folks first.

After that came my high school friends.

Coach was visibly delighted to run into Grandma again, and he told me that the moment they'd first shaken hands, he'd decided he simply had to bring me along to meet her.

“No bad child ever comes from good elders.”

Quietly, it seemed.

Grandma's influence ran deeper than I'd realized.

That felt nice.

I couldn't help feeling a swell of pride.

“Anyway. Moi?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Spend tonight with your family.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

We were heading straight back to Athens tonight.

And tomorrow, the championship celebration would be held at Sanford.

Coach said all he cared about was my not being late — so for today, one day, I was to stay in Atlanta with my family.

“Then I'll see you at school tomorrow.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Well past midnight, I boarded the bus that had brought my family and friends here, not the team bus.

There were so many of us.

That it took two buses.

“Did the school book the hotel too?”

“Yep. We're staying at a hotel in Athens tomorrow night.”

“Wow— I'll have to thank the president of the university.”

A chartered flight, buses, and now two nights' lodging on top.

The school had gone all out for us.

Thank God we'd won tonight — otherwise I'd have felt truly ashamed.

Before long we reached the hotel, where I let myself act a little spoiled in my parents' room. I briefly considered just bunking with them, but thought better of it and headed to my own room.

The reason Aunt Mel had stayed behind in Hawaii with my little sister, after all, was so that the two of them could enjoy some quality time together.

Which meant I couldn't go barging in and spoiling the moment.

“Good night.”

“Good night, sweetheart.”

“See you tomorrow.”

Click.

I closed my parents' door behind me.

Stood in the hallway and stretched toward the ceiling.

Two in the morning already.

I needed to sleep, and fast.

As I walked toward my room, I switched on my phone screen for the first time in hours — and the first thing that caught my eye were my friends, throwing a raucous party on the bus bound for Athens.

Lewis Cine had posted the video to Snapchat.

“Haha. That must've been a riot too.”

I wanted to check my DMs as well.

But there were far too many, so I put it off until tomorrow.

Except for one — the DM from Alexi, which I deleted without a second thought.

I'd seen her earlier, working overtime just to catch my eye.

Might as well have been strangers, the way things have fallen off.

Click.

Back in my room for the night, I dove straight onto the bed and checked one last message — from Cindy Kimberly.

We'd exchanged a quick hello before the game.

Along with photos shot in a teasing expression and an outfit that left little to the imagination, she asked when the two of us could finally meet up.

So I replied, “Whenever you want.”

“Whew—”

It only just occurred to me that I hadn't brushed my teeth.

But right now, I couldn't bring myself to move so much as a finger.

Ahh—

Exhausted.

And yet.

Happy.

When I slept and opened my eyes tomorrow morning.

My world would have shifted once again, and by a great deal.

And all of it.

Every last piece, I'd seized with my own two hands.

I like that.

For right now, though.

I really ought to get some sleep.

Good Night.