People wouldn’t remember the hit. They would only remember what he said after.
Then-high schooler Derrick Moore would burst off the line with colossal force. Opposing offensive linemen dug their feet in, bracing for the inevitable impact, but there was no chance for them to hold their ground as he tore into the backfield. The hit was explosive and decisive, like Moore was made for it. And by the end of the play, he was there offering his hand to help them to their feet. Sure, they’d bark at him in frustration, but Moore only left them with three words:
“God bless you.”
Moore has never been a man of many words. A quiet kid from Baltimore, Md., he prefers to keep to himself, always listening before speaking. But when he does talk, the energy in the room shifts. Teammates lean forward in t