Chase Roberts stood at the edge of the field, staring out at the stadium as the roaring crowd began to settle into their seats. His fingers twitched with anticipation, not just from the game ahead, but from the heavy decision looming over him. The moment would come soon enough. His future, his next step, was tied to the final plays of this bowl game.
The news had come as a surprise: BYU, his beloved team, had decided to let the bowl game “play out” before making any decisions about his future with the team. It wasn’t the kind of wait Roberts had imagined when he first donned the blue and white. He had always expected his path to be clearer, perhaps a straightforward answer to whether he would stay at BYU or look to the NFL. But the uncertainty now weighed heavily on his shoulders.
Coach Kalani Sitake had gathered the team earlier that week, his usually steady voice betraying a hint of strain as he explained the situation. “We all know this is a big decision, one that affects not just the future of the program but also Chase’s future,” Sitake had said, his words hanging in the air. “But we’re going to let this game speak for itself.”
Roberts understood the logic—football decisions, after all, had to be based on performance. But still, it felt like a game within a game. This bowl game, where national attention would be focused on BYU’s performance, might be his final chance to showcase his skills before the next chapter. The decision about his future was tied to every route he ran, every catch he made, and every yard he gained. It was as if the stakes had been raised beyond the field.
The sun hung low over the stadium as the team began their warmups. Roberts, usually calm and collected before a game, felt a growing fire within him. He knew the eyes of scouts, fans, and coaches were all on him. This game would either elevate him or mark the end of his journey at BYU. His mind raced as he recalled the conversations he’d had with his family and mentors over the past few weeks. They all told him the same thing: “You’ll know when it’s time.” But how could he be sure? How could anyone?
His teammate, Tyler Batty, jogged over to him with a grin. “Ready to show ‘em what you’ve got?” Batty asked, slapping him on the back.
Roberts smiled but couldn’t quite hide the tension. “Yeah, but it’s not just about the game anymore, is it?”
Batty paused, then nodded knowingly. “Nah, but that’s why you’re going to crush it out there. Play for the team, for the fans, and let everything else take care of itself.”
The whistle blew, signaling the start of the game. As Roberts took his place on the field, the weight of the decision faded into the background, replaced by the rush of adrenaline. The ball snapped, and immediately he was in motion, cutting through defenders, reaching for every opportunity. The game itself was a battle—each play more intense than the last—but Roberts kept his focus. He couldn’t let the uncertainty cloud his performance.
Every pass he caught, every yard he gained, was an answer to the question hanging over him. The final whistle blew, and the game ended with a resounding victory for BYU. But the question still loomed.
As the team gathered in the locker room, Coach Sitake’s eyes met Roberts’s. “Good game, Chase. Now we’ll talk.”
Roberts nodded, but a part of him already knew the decision wasn’t his to make—not yet. His journey at BYU, the one he had hoped would lead to something more, would have to wait just a little longer. The bowl game had played out. Now, it was time for him to play the waiting game.
