The team had not practiced one actual play the entire week. The coach had posted the roster positions just minutes before it was time to walk out onto the field for gameday and the players were woefully unprepared with the basics or even the rules of the game. They were culinary chefs, not athletic football players. Yet, here they were, about to do battle with Tina’s Tea and Coffee School for Sophisticated Chefs.

Apparently, the entire Spaghetti School had decided to show up for their game which only added to the pressure everyone was feeling considering the circumstances. The practices were fun but were completely uneductational as Coach George seemed to not understand that his job was to teach them how to not only improve but how to play the game in the first place.

“Before we go out there to kick some ass I want to say to every last one of you that I am proud of how far we have come in a week. It may not seem like much and the drills we did may have seemed worthless but I can promise you those tools I and the drills have given you will bring us glory and victory of the highest kind. No one will stand in our way not even Tina’s amazing tea cups that I may or may not have purchased earlier today. But that is beside the point. Today, we show our school and those rascals over at Tina’s Tea and Coffee who the real chefs are because we have been cooking up a nice dish of ass whoopin from day dot! Now before everyone leaves I want us all to grab a cup of haterade and pass it around pass it around” Everyone lines up to take a cup of haterade (the unofficial sponsor of the Spaghetti School Spaghetti Monsters) and as Zenzeroni takes his cup he notices the powerful smell coming from it. “A cheers to our first game as a team and first win as a team. The kitchen is in our hands and it’s time to show the rest of the restaurant what we’ve been cooking!” And with that, George lifts his cup in the air with everyone else following suit and downs the haterade. Upon swallowing the cup, Zenzeroni immediately feels…different. He feels like he can see everything and yet nothing. Everything just makes…sense.

The team takes the field to the thunderous roar of the rest of the school and takes stock of their competition who look just about as confused and unprepared as the Spaghetti Monsters felt. Zenzeroni realizes he needs to find the long snapper that will be hiking him the punts and setting him up for kicks and wanders over to George.

“Hey George.”

“Isn’t this great!” George asks looking around the field with a giant smile on his face. Zenzeroni looks with him and sees the absolutely abysmal facility that was supposed to be their stadium. The field had not been improved since they had started practicing and even looked worse since they had been using it all week as there were no other fields available. The bleachers were incredibly dirty and the scoreboard that was pitiful to begin with didn’t even exist anymore.

“Yes coach it’s…great. Anyway, who is the long snapper I’d like to talk with him so we can have some kind of rapport and plan of attack.”

“Splendid idea! Yes that would be, ah let me check” George scans through his clipboard that has no plays on it and besides the roster, the only thing on it is various doodles he had drawn. “Ah yes here we are. The long snapper is Zeus Chooperscoodle. Which is that young man right over there.” George points over to one of the benches and when Zenzeroni finds where George’s finger is pointed a cold shiver flows through his body. Ca-Can um, maybe, uh, you select a different long snapper?”

“Oh you don’t have to worry about him! He’s on our team. He isn’t going to hurt you. His job is to PROTECT you!”

Zenzeroni continues to stare at Zeus who turns out to be the same giant of a man he had run into a few days prior which had almost led to him getting beat to a pulp. “Right, yeah. I’ll just go over and talk with him. Everything will be fine.”

“Of course it will. Now if you will excuse me I have some business to attend to!” George runs out to midfield where the other coach is standing with the refs as they begin to explain the rules and game specifics.

Zenzeroni takes a big breath and walks over to Zeus “Hey….Zeus?”

Zeus looks up from trying (and failing) to tie his shoe “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the little punk from the hallway. You the waterboy?”

“No I’m the kicker and since you are the longsnapper I thought it would be a good idea to talk things over and maybe practice a few times.”

“Practice is for losers.” Zeus gets up from the bench and walks over to a group of similarly well built men that Zenzeroni assumes to be the rest of the offensive line. They talk for a second before lining up as if they were running a play. Almost like they are…practicing.

A whistle blows signaling the official start to the game and one thing becomes very apparent. Whatever the drills had done to the team subconsciously, seemed to be working full force. While Zeus despised Zenzeroni off the field, on the field he wanted nothing more than to win and was willing to work with Zenzeroni to score extra points and field goals. I say extra points and field goals because Zenzeroni didn’t have to kick a single punt which he still had no idea how he would pull off with noodle arms because Tina’s Tea and Coffee was as bad as Zenzeroni thought Spaghetti School was going to be. They looked like a bunch of chickens with their head cut off and had no answer for the seamless offense and grueling defense that Spaghetti School was able to employ. In addition, Zenzeroni was magically good at kicks barely needing to try at all to kick the ball through the uprights. When the dust settled the final score was 42-0 a resounding win on home turf for the inaugural game of the Spaghetti School Spaghetti Monsters.

Zenzeroni and the entire team were feeling great after their absolute stomping of poor Tina’s Tea and Coffee. They then racked up another 6 wins in a row absolutely wrecking shop, and destroying every culinary academy in their division.

In the meantime, Zenzeorni’s grades which were already bad continued to get worse. The end of the semester was near and that meant finals were right around the corner. In his Stirring Mixtures class the final project was creating your own sauce recipe from scratch. Zenzeroni, who had always been a fan of cooking but had really never actually cooked anything in his entire life had no idea where to begin. Meanwhile, on the other side of the kitchen/classroom, his roommate Linguine looked like a tornado barreling through people mixing different ingredients, tasting it, throwing it out and starting over.

In front of Zenzeroni was salt and pepper. Sauce is an interesting term because it describes a lot of different items within one. For example, barbeque sauce and mayo are two very different food items and yet they both fall under the umbrella of being a sauce. Taking a different route tomato sauce is used differently than a typical dipping sauce. This was the type of sauce Zenzeroni was determined to make. His favorite food had always been pizza and to make a tomato sauce that was the best in the world had become his mission for this final. Unfortunately, he didn’t know where to begin.

“Are you using those?” A student asks Zenzeroni hovering over the salt and pepper.

“Uh, no, no you can have them,” Zenzeroni tells the student who quickly scoops them up and rushes to his station.

The head chef of the class was a pretty laid back chef all things considered but when it came to judging and grading he was the most ruthless and even more strict than Zenzeroni’s Culinary Placement and Training class that he despised oh so much.

“Ah I see you have a nice table prepared for me! I look forward to the wonderfully bitter taste of metal” Head Chef Smitty says to Zenzeroni.

“Sorry chef I’m just having a little trouble with figuring out where to start.”

“Inspiration comes in the weirdest of places. I’m sure you will figure out something. And if you don’t…well, you will probably fail and I don’t want to do that to you.” Chef Smitty gives Zenzeroni a fleeting smile before bugging the student at the next station.

The final presentation wasn’t due for another week but Zenzeroni was getting worried about having nothing to show in a class he needed to pass. However, there was no time to dwell on the final because it was game time as class was now over and it was time for the Spaghetti Monsters to take on the Cheese Graters.

It was the Spaghetti Monsters toughest battle yet and required a lot more focus than they were used to. But Zenzeroni was feeling himself in this game and after kicking a 48 yard field goal in the face of one of the players on the Cheese Graters another came up behind him and pushed him. Zenzeroni turned to face him and instead of pushing back he orange justice'd in his face and griddy’d off the field.

As Zenzeroni stood on the sidelines his adrenaline slowly diminishing he realized what he needed to do to make the perfect sauce. Everything in the world is better with a little salt and a lot of love. His father, after his baseball career had become well known for his famous Alfredo Sauce but Zenzeroni was going to go in a slightly different direction combining tomato, salt, olive oil, garlic, butter, red wine, and a secret ingredient that would shock everyone at the culinary academy.

“I must say Zenzeroni I am impressed you came up with something in time for the final! I was fully prepared to give you an F and have you back here next semester!”

“Well, chef, like you said, “inspiration comes in the weirdest of places and I feel as though that bit of advice gave me the motivation I needed to make the perfect sauce for you today!” Zenzeroni proudly tells Chef Smitty.

“Just because you created a sauce doesn’t mean you’ve passed my class yet.”

“I understand chef but I believe it will be more than adequate to get a passing grade today.”

“Well let's find out shall we?” Chef Smitty grabs a sampling spoon from his locked safe that he only opens for the final sauce tastings. He scoops barely a pin drop of sauce into the spoon, rolls it around looking at the viscosity as if he were analyzing the rarity of a diamond. “Hmmmm. Interesting.” He mutters to himself before scooping up a little more sauce and putting it in his mouth. Instead of swallowing the sauce, he swishes the small amount around as if it were wine making sure it reaches every crevice. Throughout the whole process, he doesn’t give another ounce of emotion. He takes another half spoonful, repeats the performance, and finally sets it down and faces Zenzeroni.

“So? How’d you like it?” Zenzeroni inquires.

It is quite original I must say. I certainly have never tasted this type of concoction before. I thought I had it all figured out until one last taste at the very end threw my whole imagined recipe out the window. Let’s start with the basics. Tomato?”

“Yes Chef.”

“Butter?”

“Yes Chef.”

“Garlic?”

“Yes Chef.”

“Now we get into the more nuanced ingredients that aren’t as clear….” Chef Smitty smacks his lips together trying to recall the taste and bring the ingredients to life. “Olive Oil?”

“Yes Chef.”

“A pinch of salt?”

“Yes Chef.”

“And is that…..red wine?”

“Yes Chef.”

“Impressive that you thought to throw that in. But there’s still something else in there correct?”

“Yes Chef.”

“What could it be? Quite frankly I’m not sure if it makes it better or worse. It certainly lingers on the mouth but I can’t quite place it. It’s kind of sour, kind of sweet, a little tangy but I haven’t the slightest clue of what it could be. So Zenzeroni do tell!”

“Do I have to tell you? It’s a secret ingredient after all.”

“If you want to pass this class you’re damn right you better tell me.”

“Well I’ve been seeing these ads all over the place during games and when you told me about inspiration those ads came to mind. I didn’t think it was a good idea but I thought for sure the sauce had to be salty because all of the players were salty at me for making my kick, and then it had to have some kind of aspect that was true to myself and I feel like I have found that in football and this item represents that. So, the final ingredient of Zen’s Secret Sauce… Is ketchup.”

While it was the inaugural season of the Spaghetti Monsters it was not the inaugural season of the rivalry between Spaghetti School and Mario’s Meatball Madness University for Culinary Masters. Triple Ms has always been the older brother to Spaghetti School getting the superior students, more funding, and recognition than its younger counterpart. Add on the disdain the two owners have for each other and you have a rivalry ripe for the taking.

Zenzeorni was oblivious to this fact and was preparing for just another week of football. With finals over his full dedication could be on football and while Spaghetti School’s football team continued to not practice football, they couldn’t stop winning. Going into the final week of the regular season, the Spaghetti Monsters were a perfect 11-0 however their opponents for the week also happened to be 11-0 and they were taught on a very different set of rules and guidelines.

The Triple Ms were taught by the owner himself. Mario Arrivederci was a no nonsense hands on owner and expected the best out of his students turned players. While George’s laid back attitude had got Spaghetti School to where they were today, Mario’s brutal and relentless coaching, insults, and punishments for the slightest mistake had brought the Triple Ms to the verge of perfection.

This final game of the regular season was not the end all be all. It would likely decide who was the 1 seed and 2 seed in the playoffs but was more of a formality than anything else. That being said, neither team wanted to lose their undefeated streak, especially to their top rivals. While the Triple Ms had the best quarterback and wide receiver tandem in the league, the Spaghetti School had become known for their stingy defense and clutch play. Unlike the Triple Ms outside of week 1 the Spaghetti Monsters had not blown out their opponents. They were often in grueling and tight games winning at the last second or on the final drive. The Triple Ms were a meat grinder crushing everything in their path and the entire culinary circuit was on notice glued to their seats for what many expected to be a championship preview.

“Mario! My good friend! Where’s your good pal Luigi? So happy to see you coaching up the young lads! Good luck out there it should be a good one!”

“George… The Meat Grinders are going to grind you into dust. We are going to beat you so bad you are going to wish you never decided to switch schools you traitorous two timing scumbag. And if you make one more Mario game reference I’m not even going to let you see your team get slaughtered” Mario spits back.

“Now, now. No need to be so hostile. We are friends are we not?” George chuckles as Mario’s face gets more and more red by the second. “It’s all about making sure the kids have fun right? Don’t want anyone stealing a peach from old Mario right?”

Mario stares daggers into George and is about to swing when the ref rolls up “Alright coaches we’ve got four quarters, 15 minutes a quarter with one halftime in the middle. You all know the rules and regulations so I’m not going to lecture them to you. Any questions you have for me before we get this show on the road?”

“Do you have any tissues for my good friend Mario here? I think he is going to need it by the end of the game.”

“Do you have a towel for when we have to wipe the remnants of Spaghetti School's pathetic social club they call a team off the ground?” Mario bites back.

The ref chuckles nervously “I will take that as a no. Let’s get things under way, shall we? Shake hands please and we can get underway!” Mario turns his back to George and runs to the sideline before George can even put his hand out.

“What a nice old man” George says to the ref looking at Mario with a mischievous smile.

The game got underway at Triple M stadium in front of a packed house and the play styles of the two teams became abundantly clear. Spaghetti School was methodical and some may even say lackadaisical at times but no matter what, always seemed to find the perfect play to limit damage on defense and weave through on offense. The Triple M strategy was a lot more simple: Destroy everything in their way. Their players were much stronger, agile, and smart (football wise that is) but to add onto that, Mario clearly had given his players an agenda: Injure every player on Spaghetti School. By halftime Spaghetti School was on their backup quarterback, third string running back, and both starting cornerbacks had been trucked by the star wide receivers from Triple M. The only problem with this strategy was that it didn’t matter. None of these players had been taught the rules of football starter or not and yet they seemed to figure it out as soon as they got on the field.

No matter how many players the Meat Grinders took out there were three to replace them that were just as good. When the dust settled the Spaghetti Monsters had won a tight 24-23 battle and locked in the number 1 seed for the culinary football playoffs.

Mario Arrivederci was furious and immediately stormed over to the Spaghetti School bench at the end of the game where George was patiently laid back sipping a bottle of haterade. “Good game my friend. You almost had us there. You know, there were a lot of things I liked about the game but my favorite part was when my team scored more points than your team.” George chuckles putting his feet up on the cooler in front of him.

“I don’t know how you are cheating but I know you are cheating and when I find out how there won’t be a single place on this planet that is safe from my wrath.”

“I feel like I’m constantly hearing threats from you but yet I still sit here. Why do you think that is? You going to break my leg like your team did to three of my players?”

“I will see you in the championship,” Mario says in a chillingly monotone voice staring through George who continues to smile at him as if nothing had happened.





With the semester coming to an end it was time for Zenzeroni to finally be placed into a proper kitchen position. Zenzeroni had struggled through just about every position you could possibly have in a kitchen. From sauce chef to butcher chef, fish chef to grill chef, pantry chef to pastry chef Zenzeroni had failed to impress at every single station.

Chef Roundstone had gotten increasingly more and more agitated with Zenzeroni’s failures as the semester went on and it reached a boiling point (see what I did there?) a week before the placement ceremony was to take place. Zenzeroni’s saving grace was ironically the football team where he had become a superstar having not missed a single kick all season and being part of an undefeated team in its inaugural season. Chef Roundstone knew that as terrible as Zenzeroni had been in his class, to fail the star kicker for the undefeated football team would be a death note for his career in college teaching.

“Okay Zenzeroni, you are next come on up!” Chef Roundstone announces.

Zenzeroni gets up from his seat and walks up onto the stage in the small auditorium on campus. “Go ahead and say a few words about your experience so far on campus and then we will get into where we have decided to place you,” Chef Roundstone tells Zenzeroni.

“Well…” Zenzeroni looks out nervously at the audience “I want to first say thank you to my roommate Linguine for helping me adjust to being on campus an—”

“WOOOO that’s me! Hey everyone! That’s me he’s talking about. I’m Linguine!” Linguine says from his spot in the audience.

Zenzeroni smiles before continuing “And I want to thank my mentors Chef Roundstone and my other head chefs in my other classes for being so patient with me. I have really tried my best here in this first semester to prove I belong and I know I may have made a few mistakes but I have learned from them and am ready to begin my next journey wherever that may take me.”

Chef Roundstone walks up next to him and gives him a pat on the back that seems more forced than reassuring “We are sooooo happy Zenzeroni enrolled and accepted a spot here at Spaghetti School. He has TRULY been a bright spot in this year's freshmen class” Chef Rounstone spits out like venom and through gritted teeth “He has been nothing short of exemplary from day 1 to the end of the semester he has truly made a mark on this school both in class and on the football field. Despite his lackluster performance in the kitchen, from knocking down pots and pans to burning various meals to serving ice cold dishes to “customers” to tripping over himself to–” Chef Figglywiggly gives Chef Roundstone a nudge and a look of “wrap it up” and Chef Roundstone reluctantly obliges “anyways that is beyond the point. Zenzeroni has proven himself a key member of this school and the culinary arts that we know and love that is why it is my honor to officially welcome Zenzeroni as the newest member of the Sauce Chef Station with a specialty focus in pasta making.” Chef Roundstone pulls out a certificate and hands it to Zenzeroni with one hand and with the other, he viciously shakes Zenzeroni’s noodle arms looking like he wants to rip it off more so than anything else.

“Thus concludes our Placement ceremony. Please give another round of applause to our newest members of their stations and I look forward to what they cook up as they continue their adventure within the walls of the best culinary arts program in the world here at Spaghetti School.” Chef Figglywiggly says giving one last bow before retreating behind the curtain of the stage and out of sight.

Linguine rushes the stage and gives Zenzeroni a big hug “Dude! I told you! It was so obvious from the start I mean how could they not put someone with noodles for arms at the sauce station?!” Linguine sees Zenzeroni’s lack of emotion and his happy demeanor drops to a confused one “What’s wrong?”

“Everyone and their mom know that they just put me here because of my football skills. I’m an awful chef and shouldn’t have ever enrolled here in the first place.”

“Well if you believe that then how about you prove those fools wrong? The Zenzeroni I know always figures out how to be in the right no matter how wrong he may be.”

“I will obviously give it a go but the upperclassmen will skin me alive for not being able to cook properly.”

“Who cares what anyone else thinks? At the end of the day, your focus should be on yourself not what some snobby upperclassmen or head chef thinks.”

Zenzeroni brushes off the complimentary answer and avoids the topic altogether “I need to go train for the big game later this week.” Zenzeroni brushes past his roommate and heads to his dorm.

At his dorm he only gets a brief moment of peace until Linguine arrives “You know we are roommates right? Not like you can avoid me forever. This should be a day of happiness not of sadness!”

“Did you see any of my family members? Of course you didn’t because they hate me. I’ve got no one in my life that cares about my accomplishments as fake and dumb as they may be.”

“That is just plain wrong. First of all HELLO I exist. Second of all, your pirate crew cares a lot about you. Helping you get into the school and–”

Zenzeroni gets up from his bed and briskly walks over to Linguine who, in surprise, takes a couple steps back “What do you know about that?”

Linguine “I used to be a pirate too you know… It isn’t a coincidence we are roommates. Drumstick was my mentor growing up but I left that world behind thanks to him and it was the best decision I have ever made.”

Zenzeroni can’t believe what he is hearing “This was all SETUP?! Shows how real of a friend you are. Enjoy this stupid school. I’m dropping out.”

“Zen wait!” Linguine calls after him but gets no response.




Zenzeroni was at his wit's end. Barely able to control himself from having a complete meltdown all semester as he struggled through his classes and now that he had successfully been placed he still felt empty inside. Trying his best to maintain his emotions Zenzeroni got in the Ramen Noodle ™ sponsored Hot Tub Cup and tried to relax.

“Zenzeroni Xystarch II. So this is the kid that Drumstick convinced me was a good enough cook to be allowed into the school” A voice from within the hot tub says.

Zenzeroni opens his eyes to see a large man sitting in the hot tub on the other side. How he got there without Zenzeroni hearing him Zenzeroni was unsure but impressed all the same “I never knew who Drumstick had talked to in order to get me into the school I guess now I know now that I’m dropping out.”

“They call me Big Jello and let me tell you this: If you give up when times are getting tough you are going to get nowhere in life. This game that we play called life? That’s all it is, a game. Filled with twists and turns hidden awards and crushing defeats but a game all the same. Drumstick believed in you. As did One Eyed Larry. As did Linguine. As did Rebel. As did many more. Don’t let the haters stand in your way. Roll the dice one more time and change the future for the better. This is your life Zenzeroni. This is your game. And it is time to make your own rules.” The steam from the hot tub rises up in front of Zenzeroni and when it lowers Big Jello is gone.

Zenzeroni tries his best to ignore Big Jello’s words but it becomes increasingly difficult to do so so he gets out of the Hot Tub and gets ready for the Championship game between the Triple M’s.

“As is pregame ritual everyone gather around and raise a glass to an amazing season and let's win one last one and become undefeated champions of the Culinary Conference!” George declares raising a haterade cup in the air. Everyone follows suit and downs the drink except Zenzeroni who stares at the cup for a second before tossing it in the garbage in disgust.

The team takes the field in front of their home crowd in what was still an awful stadium but packed to the brim with new fans as their undefeated season did not go unnoticed by the school or the surrounding area. There were also plenty of Triple M fans who had made the trek to the lowly Spaghetti School in their fancy cars and private jets.

“I told you we would be here and we’ve got revenge on our mind. You stand no chance.” Mario says in the pregame meeting between coaches.

“You should probably have winning on your mind rather than revenge if you want to get the championship. Just sayin’” George says with a smile.

“I can’t wait to wipe that stupid smile off your ugly face.”

“It’s just a game bro” George gives Mario a playful punch but Mario takes it literally and tries to swing at George but is luckily held back by his players.

“That championship will be ours. Your puny team stands no chance against our elite classmen.”

“Only time will tell. I must say you are quite spry for an old man what are your tips for staying looking and feeling so young?” George asks.

Mario just holds up two middle fingers as he walks to his sideline and with that, the game gets underway.

The game was not an easy game by any means. The weather was absolutely terrible. The rain was relentless and there were even thunderstorms in the area that both teams agreed they would play through to prove how “macho” they both were. Zenzeorni the kicker, very much wished they would delay the game but he did not have a say in the matter and was doing his best. The problem was the offense continued to flounder. They would march down the field and get stopped short of the endzone and be forced to kick a field goal.

The first time this happened Zenzeroni took the field wiping his eyes trying to see through the rain in a chip shot 24 yard field goal attempt. A second before he kicked the ball lightning struck and thunder boomed lighting up the stadium as Zenzeroni successfully kicked the ball through the uprights.

The second time Zenzeroni walked onto the field to attempt a field goal it was a bit further away. A 36 yard field goal was still fairly manageable for Zenzeroni in normal conditions but he knew it would be tough in this weather. That being said, he stepped up, and once more a second before Zenzeroni kicked the field goal lightning lit up the sky and the thunderous boom followed, and yet Zenzeroni still was able to kick the ball through the uprights.

As the seconds ticked by in the championship game Zenzeroni grew more and more nervous. With 2 minutes left in the game the score was now 23-24 in favor of the Triple Ms. Throwing the ball in these conditions proved to be impossible so it was up to the run game to finish the game off and somehow score in two minutes with no timeouts. On fourth down with 40 seconds left on their own 25 the Spaghetti Monsters star running back escaped a tackle for loss and ran all the way to the Triple Ms 35 before a shoestring tackle saved the game for the Triple Ms…for now. The Spaghetti Monsters were able to hustle to the line and spike the ball with 4 seconds left to bring out their automatic kicker Zenzeroni Xystarch II. Zenzeroni had been perfect all season having gone 42/42 on extra points and 27/27 on field goal attempts. The one knock on Zenzeroni’s impressive resume was he had yet to kick a 50 yard field goal. And this kick would be from exactly 50 yards away. The rain certainly didn’t help but Zenzeroni knew he had the leg to reach the uprights. That didn’t stop the nerves from getting in the way and as Zenzeroni got ready to kick the field goal he thought back to the weird tradition of drinking haterade as a team before games, he thought back to the lack of practices the team had gone through, he thought back to the clearly superior athleticism of the Triple Ms and yet they were still here. One kick away from winning the Culinary Championship and then he realized how this was all possible. And that is when the ball was snapped. And that was when the lightning struck…for the third time. And in the split second between the lightning striking and Zenzeroni kicking the ball the words of the school doctor echoed through his head “Well as the saying goes, lightning doesn’t strike the same place three times!”

Zenzeroni’s foot squarely made contact with the football as the thunder boomed above. The ball looked like it was in slow motion as it reached its apex and Zenzeroni could already tell it had the distance and accuracy to barely make it through the uprights but then his world came crashing down. From the stands, a fan from the Triple Ms chucked a meatball more out of frustration than anything else and Zenzeroni could only watch in horror as it perfectly matched the trajectory of the football and as the football was about to reach the uprights it was struck by the meatball and the football fell one yard short of the game winning field goal. The Triple Ms had won the championship and Zenzeroni stood there as the world around him plunged into darkness.