The last moment
By Scott Rochat
Originally published 03:25 p.m., September 18, 2007
Updated 03:25 p.m., September 18, 2007
IT’S ALWAYS fun to watch the Oakland Raiders lose. Especially this time.
For those who missed it, the Raiders nearly pulled off a win over the Denver Broncos on Sunday, an event that gets treated in Colorado like the coming of bubonic plague. With one long kick in overtime, it looked like the bad guys from the Bay had done it.
Until they didn’t.
Mike “The Mastermind” Shanahan had called a Denver timeout two seconds before the kick. That meant no kick. It meant no points. And it soon meant no win when the Raiders missed their second try and watched the Broncos march all the way to a field goal of their own.
Two seconds. One victory.
Sometimes the last moment matters more than we know.
Heather and I have begun to realize that more and more lately. Our own game clock now has less than a week remaining on it as we prepare to move to Colorado for a new job in an old hometown. And as the clock winds down, every action takes on greater urgency, speeding up a now familiar rhythm:
Get the stuff in the boxes. Find more boxes. Recruit people to help us move. Find more boxes. Arrange to shampoo the carpet. Find more boxes ...
Well, you get the idea.
But more than anything — yes, even more than the Quest for Cardboard — we’ve begun realizing just how many friends we have. Every day, more people have found more ways to wish us well.
My best friend from junior high school, who I haven’t heard from in seven years, called to see how things were going.
A lady I had never met stopped me in the library to say how much she’d enjoyed these columns and how sorry she was that I was leaving.
Church friends have helped bless us for our journey. Theater friends have visited into the wee hours of the morning. There have been e-mails and phone calls, hugs at the grocery store and handshakes on the street.
Only now, with time running out, do we realize how many lives we’ve touched. We’ve been trying to make time for visits, for dinners, for seeing as many people as we can before we go.
When only moments remain, every one of them counts.
And yet, the last moment wouldn’t matter without all the ones that came before.
Sports fans know this well. A last-minute touchdown drive means nothing if you’re already down 57-3. A three-game winning streak to end the baseball season has limited appeal if you’re still 17 games out of the playoffs. You have to stay in the game, to do the right thing enough times before the last minute arrives.
I’m starting to think that we’ve done just that.
Good friends don’t just pop up overnight. They come about because you’ve spent time looking out instead of in, reaching out instead of holding back. It makes those last moments more agonizing, but also more special.
I’m grateful for that.
Mike Shanahan was grinning to beat the band Sunday. But his smile can’t possibly beat mine right now.
Rochat, can you see? Only far enough to see the last moment with thanks and the next moment with hope.
For now, that’ll do.
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