As I write these words, it’s been six days since that 109-yard touchdown run after the clock had run out, and people are still talking about it. People will be talking about it a century from now.

If you live in Alabama, you know the touchdown run I mean. It’s the one that sent half the state into an ecstatic delirium and the other half into a black hole.

My wife and I watched the game at our son’s home in Maryland. We could hear the screaming coming out of Jordan-Hare Stadium even with the TV turned off. Everyone east of the Mississippi could hear it.

It wasn’t something you could have made up. If you’d tried to imagine the most thrilling possible finish to a football game, you wouldn’t have imagined this, because it was unimaginable. Until it wasn’t. It doesn’t just prove that miracles happen. It proves the impossible happens.

Now that I know anything is possible, I’m hoping other impossible tales will come true, tales which, until last week, I would have thought mere fantasies. Such as:

* I win the lottery. Alabama doesn’t have a lottery, so I’m talking about a lottery elsewhere, like the Powerball Jackpot which was worth $81 million last week.

I would have said my winning the Powerball Jackpot was impossible because I don’t buy lottery tickets. Never have, never will. But since reality no longer determines what is possible, I’ve begun to plan what I’ll do with my $81 million.

Being a selfless, generous person, I won’t spend it all on myself. I wouldn’t know how to do that, anyway, since I can’t think of anything that costs $81 million except maybe an aircraft carrier, which I don’t need. First I’d pay off my church’s building fund debt. Then I’d take a nice trip, put some money aside for my grandchildren’s education, and give the rest to charity.

* My next book makes the New York Times bestseller list. I have five books in print, but no one at The New York Times Book Review even knows my name.

The problem may be that all my books are about Christian spirituality. Although America is one of the most religiously observant countries in the world, books about sex, scandal and violence always outsell devotional books. A novel full of steamy sex can sell millions of copies, but only one of my books has sold a hundredth of a million copies. My wife has suggested that I put a lot of raunchy sex into my next book, but I don’t know enough about sex to fill a book with it.

Long ago I accepted that my name would never appear on the New York Times bestseller list. But now that I know anything is possible, I’ll be looking for my next book, due out in early 2015, to break the bestseller barrier. I think I could cope with fame and fortune.

* I am elected to Congress and clean up the mess in Washington. I don’t want to run for Congress. That would require me to impugn my opponent’s intelligence and character and take similar abuse from him. But in a world where impossible things happen, being elected to office doesn’t require running for office.

As soon as I get to Washington, I’ll be elected Speaker of the House. I’ll forbid nutty legislators from mucking up the government. I’ll make sure a reasonable budget to fund government services is introduced and voted on. Then a comprehensive immigration reform bill. Then tax reform. Then a ban on assault weapons. Then a bill to fix Obamacare or come up with another way to provide health insurance to every American, as other developed countries have been doing for decades.

* God shows up to answer all my questions. I’ll have lots of questions for God: Who are you? Who am I? What’s death all about? What’s life all about? Why do you allow war? Is there one true faith? If so, what is it? If not, may I start it?

Is it even possible to answer such questions definitively? Of course. As of last Saturday, anything is possible.

Richard H. Schmidt is a retired Episcopal priest, editor and author who lives in Fairhope. He can be reached at courier@gulfcoastnewspapers.com.