A Crispy Match

A crunchy golden piece of fried chicken was sitting right in the center of a paper basket on the table. It looked just like a mini mountain. I treated it like game time. I sprinted across the placemat, leaped, and web-slung a red paper napkin right over the edge like a hero making a grand entrance. Planting my cleats, I broke off a warm, crispy flake of the crust and took a bite. Rich, crunchy, and savory. After working up a sweat on the pitch earlier, this was the ultimate victory snack.