Clemson had a first-and-goal from the Alabama 2-yard line. Six seconds remained in the game with the football resting on the left hash.

From the press box at Raymond James Stadium in Tampa, Fla., me and my good friend Phil Sikes debated what head coach Dabo Swinney was going to do. Clemson trailed by three points, 31-28, and a field goal would put the game in overtime.

“I don’t know, man. I don’t think six seconds is enough time to get two plays here. I think you have to kick it,” I said to Phil.

“I think you go for it,” Phil replied. “If you don’t get it, at least you know you were aggressive and you tried to win the game.”

Clemson still had one timeout in case something happened, so the only way a field goal was not in play was if the Tigers used too much time to run the play.

They lined up with Deshaun Watson by himself in the shotgun. Then they moved running back Wayne Gallman, who was lined up in the slot on the left side, to flank Watson to his right.

Wide receiver Mike Williams was by himself in man coverage to Watson’s left, while Hunter Renfrow was in the slot and Artavis Scott was outside to Watson’s right.

“I can’t believe they are going to run a play here,” I said just before the ball was snapped.

Center Jay Guillermo snapped the football to Watson, who rolled to his right. I inched up in my chair, so did Phil.

“Holy crap,” I said to Phil.

At that same time, Renfrow flattens out his route and suddenly cuts to his right. Scott cuts inside and is grabbed by an Alabama defender and is thrown to the ground, while the Bama defender goes around the two in chase of Renfrow.

As Renfrow makes his cut to the pylon, Watson has already released the football. Three seconds remained at the point.

After making his cut, it was obvious what was about to happen. Renfrow was wide open and Watson delivered a perfect pass. TOUCHDOWN!!

One second remained.

If Renfrow bobbled the ball and dropped it, time would have run out and Clemson would have lost the game. But that did not happen. And why would it?

Renfrow had the best hands on the team, which is why co-offensive coordinator Jeff Scott called the play “Orange Crush.” He had seen on film, during these same situations throughout the season, Alabama always lined up in man coverage.

Scott knew the play would work, and he was right.

Meanwhile, back in the press box, I was holding my breath, and I suspect Phil was too.

Understand Phil and I had seen this before. Though he worked in Clemson’s Athletic Communications office for years, and I as a journalist, our lives have been intertwined with Clemson since we were kids.

The son of a Clemson graduate, I was just a kid when Clemson won the 1981 National Championship. I thought I would never witness that again.

Like me, Phil, is also a son of Clemson grads, and was even smaller than me and way too young to remember the 1981 season. However, even when we got into the business, he in sports information and me as a sportswriter, neither of us ever thought we witness this.

After Renfrow caught the game-winning touchdowns from Watson with one second to play, Phil and I sat there in silence. For about 10 seconds we stared at the field and watched the Tigers celebrate.

Then, I looked at Phil and said, “I guess I need to write this.” And we both went back to work.

I know there are countless Clemson fans today reliving this great moment, which happened eight years ago tonight. I did not think about it at the moment that it happened, but later on, when Clemson was holding its celebration at Memorial Stadium, it hit me.

All the emotions of growing up, watching the Tigers struggle to get back to the top of the mountain, watching so many games with my mom and dad, who had already left this world, hit me. It hit me hard. I hated they did not get to witness another national championship.

I am sure there are a lot of you that have similar stories. And I am sure there are loved ones, that are no longer with us, you wish could have shared that moment with you.

Though my parents weren’t there, I am sure glad I got to share it with Phil. It’s a moment neither one of us will ever forget.