MUNCIE, Ind. — The last football play of Dante Love's life was a short pass to the right. He remembers the catch, making the decision to get to the outside for more yards, the Indiana linebacker grabbing for his shoulder pads, causing him to lower his head.

He remembers a Hoosier cornerback coming in for the hit. Not that big a player, Love thought, so why not go right at him?

And then ...

"It was just like a spark. And everything just stopped," he said Tuesday, this Ball State senior who on Sept 20 was the nation's second-leading receiver. "I just fell. That was slow motion, when I fell."

The injury that day in the second quarter in Bloomington would be called a cervical spine fracture. He was taken by cart to the locker room, by ambulance to one hospital, by helicopter to another, and then to five hours of surgery in the middle of the night.

Initially, he did not understand how bad it was. His dead legs, he was sure, would come back quickly. At the first hospital, he asked nurses to turn on the game. What really upset him is he fumbled when his body crumpled, and Indiana returned it for a touchdown.

Later, doctors would show him the X-rays.

He could see the broken bone pushing back into his spinal cord, and understood that by the barest of margins, he would have the chance to walk.

But no football. Never again.

"I dropped one tear," Love said.

He walked with a limp into his press conference Tuesday, the first chance to tell the world how quickly a life can change in the middle of a game.

If he opens and closes his hands four times, he does not have the strength for more. It is hard to squeeze a pencil. Hard to keep his head up for extended periods. His legs often feel numb. He still has so much work to do.

Plus, there is the psychological damage. When you're 22 and healthy, you feel invulnerable; a perk of youth.

He does not feel invulnerable any more. Even riding in a car makes him nervous, for there is danger in the world.

As a child, he had a recurrent dream of waking in a hospital, surrounded by a terrified family.

On Sunday morning, Sept. 21, the dream became real.

"It was kind of like I'd seen it before," he said. "Who'd have ever thought on a simple swing route, I'd break my neck?

"Just a simple thing, and you can be gone."

But he is alive and walking, and on Wednesday night will be the ceremonial coin tosser when his Ball State teammates put an 8-0 record and No. 16 ranking on the line against Northern Illinois.

This story is not exactly joyous — that an athlete could have everything taken away in the time span of a lightning bolt. But it could have been so much worse.

Love blames destiny, and not Indiana cornerback Chris Adkins, whom he has never spoken with but one day hopes to. "No hard feelings. He was just playing the game."

He credits his faith for getting him through the first lonely nights, when he asked himself: "Why would the Lord let this happen? I took it as the devil coming into my head."

"It was supposed to happen," he said Tuesday. "I've been hit harder than that so many times. I got hit harder than that in the spring game.

"I look at life like I'm blessed to be here."

How wonderful could his senior year have been? He was averaging 115 receiving yards a game when that second-down pass came his way Sept. 20. Ball State is having a season for the ages.

Now he must plan for other things. Graduation, work, family. He would not be afraid to have a son play football, he said. He would just worry about pushing the boy too hard.

Dante Love likes getting things done. Once, it was scoring touchdowns. Now, it is rehabilitation.

"I think I'm moving slow. Everybody else tells me I'm moving fast," he said. "There's still something out there for me. I've just got to wait on it. I still have my whole life ahead of me."

Terribly unlucky football player. Very lucky man.