Aaaaand SCENE!

On Saturday, I was called back to the set of "The Daisy Chain" to reshoot the football footage that had been rendered (mostly) unusable due to a cinematography error. I jumped at the chance to turn in an even better, more seasoned performance as a faceless football player appalled by on-field urine hijinks.

Battling an ominously overcast sky, our second shoot went much faster than Friday's, wrapping up in a mere hour and a half. Once again, I wore number 40 as the football gods intended. As you might expect, there was some attrition and turnover among teams from one day to the next. Technically, that made me a veteran. In that capacity, I hyped up my team by shouting, "THERE'S NO TOMORROW, GUYS! LEAVE IT ALL ON THE FIELD!" Just like I'd said yesterday.

Thanks to a fine group of friends who paid a visit, I have some awesome snaps of the game-day action. Enjoy.

(All credit goes to Blaine Rohrbach and Rebecca Hinson for the fantastic pictures.)

Stretching out before taking the field, and absolutely not showing off.

The crane shot. Where you want to be when lightning strikes.

Waiting to bust some heads.

The director lays out the game plan. I'm either sweating or modeling.

Our kicker was new. He won the job because he sucked the least.

A run-through. We were supposed the kick it to the other side. Not mine. Number 22 red (right) is beelining straight for me. That whistle couldn't blow fast enough.

Our streaker streaks it up.

Ah, the camaraderie that ties a team of random actors together.

The director singles me out for praise and rounds up the cast so I can show them how it's done. No, not really. I just like to pretend that's what's going on here.

All right, fellas, back in your places! Employ no-huddle blocking!

On each take, the streaker performed more unpredictable antics. We were encouraged not to dodge so much as to mingle. 

Bottoms up! (Number 77 red, middle left, decked me on a previous play. He was so apologetic. I praised him for his commitment to the role. I ripped my sock on that play, as you'll see later.)

Another reaction shot. Some of us were asked to take off our helmets for maximum facial impact. On the final take, I jumped behind the streaker, yanked off my helmet and screamed/gestured for the refs to yank him off the field. I hope they use that one. (Did I mention I'm short?)

Hustling off the field. I like to think we won.

After the shoot wrapped, I gave an autograph in a very special...uh...well, I'm not posting that photo.

UPDATE: At my friend Kelli's insistence, I am posting that photo.

Not pictured: The very long line for this that kept me at the field until 1 a.m.