The story here is not the game, which was good, but not spectacular. The Eagles beat the Panthers, 24–17. The Eagles clearly have talent. They also have drive and ambition, and anyone watching them knows they work hard.

But it was the two words they said before they took the field that caught my attention. “I believe,” they yelled.

I turned to the person sitting next to me and asked what it was all about. The older gentleman smiled and said, “It’s the team’s motto. They carry around cards that say I BELIEVE. It’s on a sign in their locker room. And they say it before every game.”

“Are you related to one of the players?” I asked him.

He told me he was. He was Colby Pynes’s grandfather. We talked about the accident involving his best friend and how Pynes has spent every spare minute at the hospital in the weeks that have followed. “But he never let his team down,” Mr. Pynes told me. “He didn’t let anyone down.”

As I sat there, I tried to imagine what that must be like. To have your best friend and teammate suddenly ripped away from you, in the blink of an eye. I wondered where you find the strength to keep going, at the ripe young age of seventeen.

I had one more question for Mr Pynes. “Do you think those two words have helped him through this? I mean, does he truly believe?”

When Mr. Pynes looked at me this time, he had tears in his eyes. He said, “Yes. I think Colby’s learned that the most important thing is to keep the faith. To believe the impossible can become possible. Every time the Eagles win a game this season, it’s against all odds really. Hearts are broken, and anyone who has tried to play a sport, all in, with a broken heart, knows how hard it is. But that’s the thing. Every time this team wins a game, they’re reminded that anything is possible. And they realize it applies to their friend and teammate, Benny Lewis, as well. With each game, the belief grows even stronger.”

At that point, I told Mr. Pynes who I was and got his permission to quote him. On the two-hour drive home, I thought about what he’d said. And I thought about what I had witnessed on and off the field.

I’ve come to the conclusion that I saw a power last night that cannot really be described in words. The power of believing. But more than that, the power of love, for a teammate and a friend. When you combine the two, well, I’ll just say it — anything is possible. And I fully expect to see the Willow High Eagles playing in the state championship game.

I left that game last night a believer. One hundred percent.

It’s tuesday. Tomorrow morning, Benny leaves for Atlanta.

After we’ve eaten dinner, I call his mom.

“I can’t say good-bye,” I tell her. “I’m sorry. I’d probably lose it.”

She chuckles. “It’s okay for boys to cry, you know.”

“I guess. But we’re tough, me and him.”

“You’ve been through a lot together,” she says.

“He’s the best friend a guy could ask for. You tell him I said that, okay? And I’m gonna miss him like crazy.”

“Now who’s . . . Little . . . Miss . . . Sunshine?”

I shake my head. Of course she wouldn’t let me off that easy. “Hey, Benny. Your mom gave you the phone, huh?”

“It’s on speaker,” she says.

“Oh. Right. Well, you guys have a safe trip, okay? And I’ll see you soon. I know you’re gonna bust balls and do what you gotta do to get back on your feet, man.”