Hey, there, football player making a beeline toward the end zone.
See that brown, ovoid object in your arms? Go ahead, take a glance down. That's the football.
It's your most important possession right now. Yes, it's even more important than that PlayStation 4 you got in your bowl gift package last year. There is nothing - nothing - more essential in your life right now than that ball.
And I know this may be your first time tonight to cross that goal line. Shoot, this may be your first time ever crossing the goal line. And I know you want to make it special, make it stand out. You want to look good. Who wouldn't?
But here's some advice.
Don't. Drop. That. Ball.
Yeah, it looks cool, that nonchalant depositing of the pigskin on the turf. Here's the problem. Your eyes have been fixed on that end zone the second you saw daylight and that wide green space in front of you.
They haven't, however, been fixed on the goal line.
So when your hand goes slack and that football rolls off your fingertips and to the ground, ask yourself a couple of questions. Did the ball cross that goal line along with the rest of me?
Am I sure?
Cal's Vic Enwere and Oklahoma's Joe Mixon should have asked themselves those questions this past Saturday. It ended up costing Enwere (kinda), but Mixon got saved. The officials helped bail out both.
Enwere was trucking down the field for the game-sealing touchdown versus Texas with about 90 seconds to go and Cal up 50-43. But as Enwere neared the goal line, he let the ball sail. He crossed the line. The ball didn't.
A Texas defender picked up the loose ball a few seconds later, but not quick enough to gain the Longhorns possession. The Big 12 officiating crew introduced us to the concept of "immediate recovery," and Cal kept the ball at the Texas 1 and kneeled out the clock.
Elsewhere in Big 12 Land, Mixon ran a kickoff back 97 yards in to the end zone, 96 yards with the ball. It left his hands at the 1, and a goal-line cam even showed it. It's just that the officials in Norman never noticed, so the score stood. Of course, the Buckeyes still won by three touchdowns, so, in the long run, it wasn't too meaningful.
But what about when it is? What happens when that eagle-eyed defender notices the ball didn't join you in that trip to the end zone, scoops it up and runs the other way as your teammates are celebrating your pseudo-touchdown. Do you really want your quest for cool points to cost your team actual points?
And, look, I understand how little you want to hear about this from some cranky, middle-aged guy who never came within a country mile of the end zone in his abbreviated junior high and high school football career. But, sometimes, it's guys like me who never scored and wished they had who need to remind guys like you who own real estate in that end zone just how hallowed that ground is.
So as you're trucking toward that score, do me, yourself and those thousands of screaming fans all a favor. Cherish that football. Hold it tight like a prom date during that last slow dance of the night. Don't let it go until you're jogging around that end zone and waiting for your teammates to mob you in glee.
Then, do whatever you want with it. Hand it to the ref. Spike it. Break out an interpretive dance. Just make sure it joined you in that end zone.
The touchdown you save will be your own.
Contact Derek Redd at 304-348-1712 or derek.redd@wvgazettemail.com. Follow him on Twitter @derekredd.