Which I can understand. But I knew I was the guy who'd scored the touchdown because I was the guy who'd seen the lights sparkling off that football, who'd seen the slow-motion form of the Victoria tacklers and who'd seen, just before getting hit, the broad stripe go under my cleats.
But I still wouldn't let it rest at that. I ran down my old quarterback, L.M. Killough. And, in a kind of bored voice, he confirmed it.
"Of course," he said, "what's the question here?"
Did you ever notice about quarterbacks? It's always the receivers who go nuts in the end zone. And then the offensive linemen and the backs and the other receivers come running down and jump on the guy.
The quarterback goes over to the sideline and talks with the coach about what looks good on the stock market.
All L.M. said to me about the only touchdown pass I'd ever caught in college football was that he was surprised I hadn't dropped it.