Good Touchdown Quotes

Being a good man has nothing to do with how many touchdowns you score. But maybe, rather, how you play the game.

—Sé que si hubiera más tiempo pudiera llenar decenas de libros con lo que hay entre nosotros, podría escribir historias que durasen una eternidad. Pero prefiero tener unas pocas páginas contigo que no tener absolutamente nada de ti. Así que puede que no escribamos un libro juntos, pero nadie nos impide crear algo tan breve y fugaz como un cuento.

No necesitas ser una luciérnaga para brillar. Hay ciertas personas que brillan por sí mismas, es solo que no somos capaces de ver su luz.

The crowd started going crazy. Like even crazier than when Romeo got up from the hit. I was clinging to the railing, wondering if I would like prison, when Ivy sighed. "I swear. You have all the luck." Confused, I glanced around. Romeo was jogging toward us, helmet in his hands. Quickly, I glanced at the big screen and it was showing a wide shot of me clinging onto the rails and him running toward us. When he arrived, he slapped the guard on his back and said something in his ear. The guard looked at me and grinned and then walked away. Romeo stepped up to where I was. At the height I was at one the railing, for once I was taller than him. "You're killing me, Smalls," he said. "I had to interrupt a championship game to keep you from going to the slammer." "I was worried. You didn't get up." "And so you were just going to march out on the field and what?" God, he looked so… so incredible right then. His uniform stretched out over his wide shoulders and narrow waist. The pads strapped to his body made him look even stronger. He had grass stains on his knees, sweat in his hair, and ornery laughter in his sparkling blue eyes. I swear I'd never seen anyone equal parts of to-die-for good looks and boy-next-door troublemaker. "I was going to come out there and kiss it and make it better." He threw back his head and laughed, and the stadium erupted once more. I was aware that every moment between us was being broadcast like some reality TV show, but for once, I didn't care how many people were staring. This was our moment. And I was so damn happy he wasn't hurt. "So you're okay, then?" I asked. "Takes a lot more than a shady illegal attack to keep me down." Behind him, the players were getting back to the game, rushing out onto the field, and the coach was yelling out orders. "I'll just go back to my seat, then," I said. He rushed forward and grabbed me off the railing. The crown cheered when he slid me down his body and pressed his lips to mine. It wasn't a chaste kiss. It was the kind of kiss that made me blush when I watched it on TV. But I kissed him back anyway. I got lost in him. When he pulled back, I said, "By the way, You're totally kicking ass out there." He chuckled and put me back on the railing and kept one hand on my butt as I climbed back over. Back in the stands, I gripped the cold metal and gave him a small wave. He'd been walking backward toward his team, but then he changed direction and sprinted toward me. In one graceful leap, he was up on the wall and leaning over the railing. "Love you," he half-growled and pressed a swift kiss to my lips. "Next touchdown's for you.

You know, Scout. You never really understand a person until you climb in their skin and walk around in it for a while." Atticus Finch "Television is good. It gives much, yet asks little." My little brother, Bobby Moser. One would never guess from that quote that he is a law school graduate & respected trial attorney. He sounds like a stoner. "Touchdown, Seahawks!!!" Steve Raible, Seattle Sports Broadcaster.

That was some shady shit out there, Rome,” Braeden said once the total chaos of winning the game had gone down to a considerable roar. We were finally in the locker room, and I was stripping off my sweat and grass-stained gear. “Total douche move.” I agreed. It wasn’t the first time a team had tried to take me out of a game. It was pretty much common practice, especially when something like a title and championship was at stake. Still, I’d never quite had anyone come at me like that before. The play was already in progress. Sacking me wouldn’t have changed the touchdown I’d just thrown. Except of course to keep me from throwing another one. That guy deliberately came in like a freight train and plowed me down. I lay there stunned for long moments, waiting for the air to come back in my lungs and for my body to process the shock of the hit. Thankfully, he wasn’t that good at tackling and it did nothing more than stun me. And it got him thrown out of the game. It really hadn’t been a big deal. Like I said, it happened a lot. But it was the first time it happened in front of Rimmel. I couldn’t help but notice how the large screen on the field had zeroed in on the girl in number twenty-four’s hoodie, who was climbing over the railing and preparing to leap down onto the field. The security guard was yelling at her, but she barely noticed him. Her eyes were trained out on the field, where I was. It was almost laughable that her tiny ass was going to rush out onto a field full of men more than double her size to make sure I was okay. G**damn. I loved her even more just then. When the guard put his hand on her ankle, trying to stop her from going back to her seat, something happened. Something that never had in my entire life of playing football. The game faded away. For once, I was out on the field and unable to focus on only the game. It took a backseat to the girl teetering on the edge of the railing.

Good advice comes from the guy who scores all the touchdowns—not the guy shut out in the fourth quarter! The best quarterbacking advice comes from Peyton Manning, not MJ DeMarco.

pitch. Guess where it went? Yeah, it sailed into the stands and hit Alice. It broke a bone in her knee! That lady was not having a good day. Deion Sanders is the only person in history to hit a home run in a Major League Baseball game and score a touchdown in the National Football League in the same week! The most valuable baseball card in the world is a Honus Wagner card from 1909–10. In perfect condition, it’s worth more than two million dollars.

God bless end of summer Midwestern heat waves. “Good evening, Beauties,” I greet through the open window.

Asked about Lombardi’s daring decision to go for the touchdown, Landry, the decade’s defensive genius, seemed stunned by it. “I can’t believe that call, the sneak,” he said. “It wasn’t a good call, but now it’s a great call.

He smoothed a little hair off her forehead. “I’m proud of you.” “It was so awesome.” “See? I knew you’d find something here to sink your teeth into.” He reached down, crossed his arms under her bottom and lifted her straight up so that her face was even with his. “Nowwww, what did we decide?” she asked, but her tone was teasing. Her smile was playful. “We decided that I would not kiss you.” “That’s right.” “I haven’t,” he said. “Maybe we should have talked about this,” she added, but she certainly didn’t struggle. In fact, this seemed oddly right. Celebratory. Like being picked up and swung around after the win of a big game. And that was how she felt—as though she’d just scored a touchdown. Arms resting on his shoulders, she clasped her hands behind his head. “We further decided that if you kissed me, I would let you,” he said. “You’re fishing.” “Does this look like fishing to you?” “Begging?” “Doing exactly as I’ve been told. Waiting.” What the hell, she thought. Absolutely nothing could feel better after the night she’d just spent than to plant a big wet one on this guy—a guy who’d keep his business open all night just in case they needed something. So she laid one on him. She slid her lips over his, opening them, moving over his with wicked and delicious intent, getting her tongue involved. And he did nothing but hold her there, allowing this. “Did you not like that?” she asked. “Oh,” he said. “Am I allowed to respond?” She whacked him softly in the head, making him laugh. She tried it again, and this time it was much more interesting. It made her heart beat faster, made her breathe hard. Yes, she thought. It is okay to feel something that doesn’t hurt sometimes. This wasn’t because she was grief-stricken or needy, this was because she was victorious. And all she could think about at the moment was his delicious mouth. When their mouths came apart, she said, “I feel like a total champ.” “You are,” he said, enjoying her mood more than she would ever guess. “God, you taste good.” “You don’t taste that bad,” she said, laughing. “Put me down now,” she instructed. “No. Do it again.” “Okay, but only one more, then you have to behave.” She planted another one on him, thoroughly enjoying his lips and tongue, the strength of the arms that held her. She refused to worry about whether this was a mistake. She was here, she was happy for once, and his mouth felt as natural to hers as if she’d been kissing him for years. She let the kiss be a little longer and deeper than she thought prudent, and even that made her smile. When it was over, he put her on her feet. “Whew,” she said. “We don’t have nearly enough births in this town.” “We have another one in about six weeks. And if you’re very, very good…” Ah, he thought. That gives me six weeks. He touched the end of her nose. “Nothing wrong with a little kissing, Mel.” “And you won’t get ideas?” He bellowed. “You can make me behave, it turns out. But you can’t keep me from getting ideas.” *

It takes all of my strength to stay standing. I’ve won a lot of football games. Thrown the winning touchdown in my high school state championship. Just won a national college championship. But I’m not sure anything has felt as good as when Roxy, who’s still impaled on me, opens her sleepy eyes, takes my face in her small hands, and kisses me long and slow under the hot water. It’s in this moment I realize how much I’ve been lying to myself. About everything. Because this thing with Roxy? It’s anything but fake. Now I just need to prove to her I’m the kind of man she can count on.

*No necesitas ser una luciérnaga para brillar. Hay ciertas personas que brillan por sí mismas, es solo que no somos capaces de ver su luz.* Si con esta frase no te convenzo de leer este libro, entonces no sé qué más decirte. No, uno de los mejores libros que he leído. Eso sí, debo admitir que así como casi me muero de la risa, me pegué unas lloradas. Como me gustaría vivir la historia que cuenta este libro, es magnífica. Amo la definición y el carácter de cada personaje, sin duda está muy bien pensado, y uy no la comedia que manejan es otro nivel. O sea, no esperaba reírme tanto como lo hice con el Coach y con Kansas jajaja. Y por favor, un hombre como Malcom Beasley es todo lo que necesito en mi vida. Alto, guapo, inteligente, disciplinado. Simplemente, amo este libro!

Colton blew out a long, slow breath. “I think you should talk to everyone and lay it all out there. Why you thought you had to do what you did. Everyone thought you were using us, you know? You had your own world that no one knew about and that you didn’t trust us with, but you sure as shit were fine with us catapulting you into stardom. When I read that article…” Colton’s jaw moved left and right. “I thought, Jesus, I’m only good enough to throw you sweet passes. Give you touchdowns, give you yards, get you some good stats and wall-to-wall ESPN highlights. But apparently I wasn’t good enough to really know you. Like I was just someone you put up with to get what you needed. That I—none of us—were really your friends.

When we think about the things that alter our lives in a moment, nearly all of them are bad: phone calls in the night, accidents, loss of jobs or loved ones, conversations with doctors bearing awful news. In fact, apart from a last-second touchdown, unexpected inheritance, winning the lottery, or a visitation from God, it is hard to imagine sudden good news. Virtually all the happiness-producing processes in our lives take time, usually a long time: learning new things, changing old behaviors, building satisfying relationships, raising children. This is why patience and determination are among life’s primary virtues.