You are: Texas A&M quarterback Johnny Manziel
It's early on the evening of Sept. 14, and the stands at Kyle Field throb as the inhabitants mix hope, joy, frustration and sweat with whiskey poured from well-hidden flasks. You're on the field, wearing No. 2 in maroon. It seems like another lifetime when you went to Tuscaloosa and beat Alabama last year. Since then you've won the Heisman, met Drake and LeBron James, gotten sent home from the Manning Passing Academy and been investigated by the NCAA over a whole lot of autographs.
None of that matters at the moment. You're down five with the ball on the Crimson Tide's 22-yard line. The clock ticks. This is the final play. You see linebacker C.J. Mosley spying you from the middle of the defense. You snuck past him on fourth down to get the ball here, but you won't outrun him on this play. He has that look in his eye, probably the same one that he had on the final play of last year's SEC title game, when he jumped higher than a man in football pads should be able to jump, and got his hands on Georgia quarterback Aaron Murray's pass. You're not winning this game with your legs. You're going to have to throw the ball.
As you scan the field, you see receiver Mike Evans streaking toward the corner of the end zone. But out of the corner of your eye, you see that Alabama linebacker Adrian Hubbard has beaten his blocker. He'll be on you in 2 ... 1 ...
If you throw a strike to Evans, click here.
If Hubbard creams you before you can throw, click here.