Steve Johnson was having a very bad, horrible, terrible day. The 24-year-old wide receiver had the opportunity to give the Buffalo Bills one of their sweetest victories: an unexpected win against the Steelers in overtime.
But he dropped the ball, in the end zone of all places.
My husband, whose passion for sports knows no boundaries, could be heard screaming in Trenton, New Jersey. We live in Oregon. I know one of these days I’m going to be kneeling over his body as paramedics arrive to treat him for an ESPN-induced stroke. You know that fellow in Alabama who shot his TV because he didn’t like Bristol Palin’s dancing? If we had guns in the house, I’m pretty sure my husband would have shot somebody on ESPN by now.
Johnson said he will never get over dropping that pass. No matter how long he lives, no matter how many winning touchdown passes he caught before this one, or how many he’ll catch after this one, his obit is going to mention that dadgum dropped ball.
