Here To Prove.

[supahotfire]

47%

..but got the dub!

no shot against texas but only 1 pick, not terrible

[djp73]

7 drops against Texas State, despicable

Texas wasn't as bad as I expected, literally no time to throw. coach was trying to get him killed having him drop back so much. it was always 2nd or 3rd and long too. bum ass running game

[djp73]

FITZPATRICK THROWS 4 TOUCHDOWNS IN BLOWOUT WIN OVER HOUSTON BAPTIST


FITZPATRICK CELEBRATES FOLLOWING A TOUCHDOWN PASS

@
10 | 52

(---)|00|10|00|00|10
(3-1)|07|28|03|14|52

Scoring Summary
1Q UTSA Robert Henry 34 Yd pass from Cam Fitzpatrick (Chase Allen Kick)
2Q UTSA De'Corian Clark 7 Yd pass from Cam Fitzpatrick (Chase Allen Kick)
2Q HB Ziggy Smallwood 79 Yd run (Ethan Conley kick)
2Q UTSA De'Corian Clark 1 Yd pass from Cam Fitzpatrick (Chase Allen Kick)
2Q UTSA Kevorian Barnes 3 Yd pass from Robert Henry (Chase Allen kick)
2Q UTSA Devin McCuin 16 Yd pass from Cam Fitzpatrick (Chase Allen kick)
2Q HB Ethan Conley 29 Yd FG
3Q UTSA Chase Allen 41 Yd FG
4Q UTSA Bryson Donnell 1 Yd run (Chase Allen kick)
4Q UTSA Bryson Donnell 45 Yd run (Chase Allen kick)

UTSA Key Player Statistics
Passing - C. Fitzpatrick 25/44 293Yds 4TD, R. Henry 1/1 3Yds 1TD
Rushing – B. Donnell 7Car 63Yds 1TD, R. Henry 5Car 30Yds, R. Griffin 6Car 29Yds
Receiving – D. Clark 5Rec 87Yds 2TD, R. Henry 5Rec 65Yds 1TD, D. McCuin 4Rec 45Yds 1TD, O. Cardenas 5Rec 41Yds, W. McCoy 3Rec 30Yds, K. Barnes 3Rec 25Yds 1TD

Additional Media

[djp73]

Cam Fitzpatrick 2024 Stats:
08/31/2024 | vs Kennesaw State | W 21-16 | 18/28 192Yds 2TD 2Int, 2Car -6Yds
09/07/2024 | @ Texas State | W 21-16 | 21/44 272Yds 3TD, 2Car 20Yds
09/14/2024 | @ Texas | L 09-33 | 23/39 172Yds 1Int, 6Car -14Yds
09/21/2024 | vs Houston Baptist | W 52-10 | 25/44 293Yds 4TD, 5Car -9Yds
-----------------------------------
Season Totals: 87/155 929Yds 9TD 3Int, 15Car -9Yds

[djp73]

[djp73]

FITZPATRICK PUTS UP SIX TOTAL TDS IN BIG WIN OVER ECU


FITZPATRICK SCORES ON A RARE RUN, HIS SECOND OF THE GAME

@
45 | 27

4-1(1-0)|10|21|07|07|45
1-4(0-1)|07|07|00|13|27

UTSA Key Player Statistics
Passing - C. Fitzpatrick 38/65 379Yds 4TD
Rushing – C. Fitzpatrick 7Car 8Yds 2TD
Receiving – W. McCoy 12Rec 99Yds 3TD, D. Clark 5Rec 80Yds, R. Henry 5Rec 52Yds 1TD, K. Barnes 4Rec 50Yds, D. McCuin 4Rec 49Yds

Additional Media

[djp73]

LATE PICK SINKS RUNNERS AGAINST RICE


FITZPATRICK SETS UP TO DELIVER ONE OF HIS THREE TOUCHDOWN PASSES

@
24 | 35

4-2(1-1)|07|07|07|03|24
4-2(2-1)|07|07|07|14|35

UTSA Key Player Statistics
Passing - C. Fitzpatrick 34/56 396Yds 3TD 3Int
Rushing – R. Henry 8Car 31Yds
Receiving – D. Clark 4Rec 107Yds 1TD, W. McCoy 8Rec 85Yds 1TD, D. McCuin 3Rec 57Yds, D. Amador II 5Rec 52Yds, O. Cardenas 7Rec 37Yds 1TD

[djp73]

Cam Fitzpatrick 2024 Stats:

Date	Opponent	Result	Passing Stats	Rushing Stats
08/31/2024	vs Kennesaw State	W 21-16	18/28, 192Yds, 2TD, 2Int	2Car, -6Yds
09/07/2024	@ Texas State	W 21-16	21/44, 272Yds, 3TD	2Car, 20Yds
09/14/2024	@ Texas	L 09-33	23/39, 172Yds, 1Int	6Car, -14Yds
09/21/2024	vs Houston Baptist	W 52-10	25/44, 293Yds, 4TD	5Car, -9Yds
09/28/2024	@ East Carolina	W 45-27	38/65, 379Yds, 4TD	7Car, 8Yds, 2TD
10/12/2024	@ Rice	L 24-35	34/56, 396Yds, 3TD, 3Int	4Car, 15Yds
Season Totals:	--	159/276 (57%)	1,704Yds 16TD, 6Int	26Car, 14Yds, 2TD

[Agent]

That man has been letting it fly! 65 pass attempts against East Carolina followed by 56 against Rice.. NFL QB's gonna love him if he can keep those interceptions down & start connecting on those bombs

[djp73]

Wish You Were Here

Fall 2017

Cam stormed to the sideline, slamming his helmet to the turf as he exited the field.

“Cam! No! We don’t do that. Pick it up!” His coach’s voice cut through the crowd noise, sharp and disapproving. Cam sulked, feeling a mix of frustration and shame. He knelt down, scooping up the helmet, but he didn’t put it back on. He couldn’t. Not after what just happened.

His teammates avoided eye contact, their heads down as they trudged off the field. Cam quickly learned he hated this feeling more than anything. He was the quarterback—the leader—but he felt powerless as he watched the opposing team’s offense line up in victory formation. The quarterback took a knee, and with that final act, the clock drained away along with their undefeated record.

It was his fault. He knew it. That interception sealed the game.

---

The car ride home was quiet. Cam stared out the window, trying to tune out the memory of the pick, the look on his coach’s face, and the silence of his teammates. He felt like he had let them all down.

Up in the front seat, his grandfather, an older man with weathered hands and a gentle demeanor, adjusted the rearview mirror. He caught a glimpse of his grandson’s reflection—eyes cast downward, the familiar posture of defeat. He’d never been an athlete, not in the way Cam was, but he knew the sting of disappointment well enough. He took a breath, searching for the right words.

“Hey bud?” he ventured.

Cam looked up, still lost in thought but willing to listen.

“I know you’re feeling pretty upset right now.” He paused, mentally sorting through decades of wisdom, trying to frame it in a way that would matter to Cam. “You’re the quarterback. The leader. The coaches are counting on you to set an example for your teammates. You can be upset, but you’ve got to pick your teammates up after something like that.”

Cam’s voice was small when he finally spoke. “But we lost.”

“I know.” His grandfather nodded. “And you’re going to lose again, Cam. But you can’t let those guys beat you twice.”

Cam furrowed his brow. “What does that mean?”

“It means you’ve got to move past the loss,” his grandfather explained. “Get back out there, have a great week of practice, learn from your mistakes, and go back out there and play your best next week.”

Cam considered the words for a moment, chewing on them like he was trying to understand the taste. “Okay,” he said, his voice not fully hiding the disappointment still gnawing at him.

His grandfather smiled, the kind that reached his eyes. “Let’s go get milkshakes, bud.”

Cam blinked, surprised. “Even though we lost?”

He chuckled, a soft, warm sound. “Yeah, we’ll go every week, no matter what—win or lose. It’s not meant to be a reward for winning. It’s just something nice for us to do together. We’ve been talking about the game during that time, but we don’t have to. We can just talk about life. Or we can just sit there and watch the college games and be quiet.”

For the first time since the game ended, Cam almost smiled. “Okay,” he said again, this time with a hint of hope.

---

Present Day

The bus ride back from Rice was long and quiet, the kind of silence that only a tough loss can bring. Cam sat by the window, his forehead resting against the cool glass, staring out at the Texas landscape as it blurred by in the dark. He replayed the final interception in his head on a loop, each frame sharper than the last. The safety he didn’t see, the ball hanging in the air a moment too long, the feeling of dread as the crowd roared.

He whispered to himself, almost like a mantra. “I didn’t have any time.” Then, more sternly: “No excuse, throw it away.”

He sighed, closing his eyes and popping in his headphones, trying to drown out the noise in his head. But even with the music, the regret clung to him, heavy and unshakable.

---

Later that night, Cam found himself alone at a 24-hour diner, nursing a chocolate milkshake. It was the first time he’d done this without his grandfather, and the booth felt emptier because of it. He took a long sip, the sweetness cutting through the bitterness of the loss but not by much. He glanced around; there were a few people scattered about, but it was quiet enough for him to feel like he was the only one there.

Cam shifted in his seat, wincing as he became aware of the bruises blooming across his ribs and shoulders. For the second straight game, he had thrown the ball over fifty times. He could still feel the imprint of the hits he’d taken, the pressure of defensive linemen bearing down on him.

“Good thing we had the week off,” he muttered to himself, reaching for his phone. He scrolled through a handful of text messages—teammates, friends, a few well-meaning coaches offering their condolences and encouragement. It was all positive, but it didn’t take away the sting.

He opened a social media app, and within seconds, his mood soured again. A post mocking his final interception stared back at him, comments piling on, dissecting every mistake he’d made. He set the phone down on the counter, maybe a bit too firmly.

It was then that he heard it—faint at first, the familiar opening chords of Pink Floyd’s “Wish You Were Here.” He paused, the shake halfway to his lips, as the song filled the diner. It was one of his grandfather’s favorites. They used to listen to it together, sitting in the car after games, sometimes talking, sometimes just letting the music play.

Cam closed his eyes, letting the lyrics wash over him. For a moment, he could almost feel his grandfather there, sitting beside him, offering a smile, maybe a gentle nudge on the shoulder. The pain of the loss, the bruises, the noise of social media—it all faded into the background.

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I wish you were here,” he whispered to the empty seat across from him.

But somehow, in a strange, almost comforting way, it felt like maybe he was.