I just pulled up to the university for our 8:00 A.M. practice, and I was talking to her before I went in.
“It’s so much more that I can get done in Cali, versus me being in Maimi. The support out there for poets is out of this world. Don’t get me wrong, they show love for me here in Miami, but Rico, my dreams are big. I know for a fact that I can’t sell out a whole venue here in Miami, with expectations of a lot of people coming out to support. I’ve been talking to this girl out in Cali, and she’s doing her thing with poetry. She’s selling out venues. Miami is the city where they only want to support when it comes to drama, popularity, and all the other negative stuff. I want people to support me because of my talent. I don’t want the love to come in because they see me as Rico’s little sister. Cali just seems like the best move for me right now,” she voiced, and I sighed.
She sounded like she had her mind made up, and I don’t think that there was anything that I could say or do to sway her in the opposite direction.
“You gotta do what makes you happy. Shit going to hurt a little bit, knowing that I can’t just pull up on you like I used to, but I want to support your dreams, and if that means that I have to be happy with you moving to Cali, then that’s just what I gotta do,” I couldn’t even hide the sadness in my voice, as I took a pause for a little bit, so that I could look at her.
I was been standing behind my car with the trunk open because I was pulling my gym bag from the back.
My little sister looked at me through the phone screen, and it felt like I was staring back at the female version of myself. She was so beautiful. Although she was smiling at me because of the words that I’d just offered her, I could see a little bit of sadness too.
Our family was close. Seren was a daddy’s girl, and her, and my mom were super close. Seren still lived with my mom, and the two of them carried on like the best of friends. Her, and I were super close as well. I loved my little sister to death. I’m sure as happy as she was to make this move to Cali, she was probably feeling a little sad knowing that she was going to be hundreds of miles away from her family.
“Even if I were to stay, Rico, your about to get drafted. It’s no telling where you are going to go. Either way, you and I are going to be on opposite sides of the world from each other. Your about to be a first round draft pick, swimming in millions of dollars, so it’ll be nothing for you to hop on a private jet to come see me,” she said, and hearing her say that caused me to smile as I thought about the possible lifestyle that I could be living, once I made it to the NFL.
“I’m so proud of you big brother. I know I tell you that a lot, but I really am,” her words warmed my heart.
“With the millions that I’m going to be swimming in, you don’t gotta work. Let your brother take care of you,” I replied, and she just laughed.
“That’s not the goal for me, Rico. The same way your making mommy, and daddy proud, I want to do the same,” I couldn’t help but respect that.
I talked with my sister for a couple of minutes more, and then I let her know that I would call her later. I let her know how much I loved her, and then I hung up the phone.
Now that I had my gym bag over my shoulder, I was able to lock the doors, and I walked, heading for the facility. I went in through the doors that led to our indoor football field because I knew that that’s where we were starting out this morning. We had to get some conditioning in, and then we would take it out back to the real field.
I came in through this way because I could just cut through to get to the locker room.
As I was walking, I could see that a few of the players were already lined up, warming up, stretching, talking amongst each other, and, just getting ready for practice.
No exaggeration, but the second I walked out here, all movement stopped. A couple of the dudes that were talking amongst each other, they paused, so that they could look at me. Some that I saw doing drills, running up and down the field… that stopped too. The athletic trainers that were on the field, stretching some of the guys out, stopped as well. I paused, looking down at myself, just making sure that I walked into this motha fucka with pants on because they were all pausing, and looking at me as if I walked in here with my dick out.
It was too early in the morning for me to be trying to play the guessing game and wondering why they were all looking at me in this manner, so I just continued with my walk, heading forthe locker room. By the time I reached the door, one of the staff members came over to me.
“Rico, one second. Before you head into the locker room, the athletic director needs to see you really quick,” he said to me. I looked this nigga up and down. I was twice his size, and much taller than him. There was a firm look on his face, as if he didn’t give a damn about our size difference.
“See me for what? Man, practice about to start, and I need to gear up,” I spat, about to walk past him, but he was quick, damn near jumping in front of the door, blocking me from going inside.
“No like, you cannot step foot into the locker room until you go and have a talk with the athletic director. I don’t know how you interpreted it when I said it the first time, but it wasn’t up for debate. Not to sound rude, but it was a demand,” this geeky ass nigga had the nerve to say to me.
I stood in front of him, waiting for the moment where he busted out laughing, and he told me that he was just fuckin with me. Being on a football team, filled with men, it was common for these niggas to go around playing sick ass jokes. That’s what I was hoping was going to happen here, but that moment never game. He never laughed. Never uttered a smile. Never broke his stance. Because he didn’t, now I was alarmed, and I stepped back.
Something told me that not only was I not going to go inside that locker room right now, but I would probably never step foot in there again.
I allowed him to go ahead and lead the way. Moments later, he was pulling the door open to a large conference room inside the football facility. I’ve been in this conference room plenty of times, but it was always for good things. I signed most of my big deals, and brands in this room.
For the first time, it felt cold in here. Not the kind of cold where you needed a jacket. The kind of cold where you felt sadness, and depression.
My eyes scanned the large room, and I recognized everyone that was in here. The athletic director was here, one of the NCAA compliance officers were here, and our head coach, coach Tim. Niggas were in this bitch looking all serious, as if someone had died.
Coach Tim was a tough coach, but he was one of those people that was always smiling. To walk into the room and see him with this hardcore look on his face, it made me raise an eyebrow, especially since so many times before in the past, whenever he would see me, he would always grace me with a smile, a hug, and some words of encouragement. He sat at the table right now, looking at me as if I was his enemy.
The dude that brought me in here, he ended up leaving. I didn’t know whether to sit or stand, so I continued standing.
“You can have a seat Rico,” coach Tim said to me.
I nodded my head, and I sat down at the long, rectangular conference table. All three of them were seated on the other side, with just enough space from each other. I hated the way the seating arrangements were because with the three of them sitting on one side together, versus me sitting on the other side on my own, it kind of felt like they were ganging up on me. Because I felt this way, I nervously started bouncing my leg up and down, prepared for the worst. I knew this wasn’t going to be good news. It was obvious at this point.
The athletic director, who I knew as Mr. Jones, cleared his throat, and he leaned forward, so that he could go ahead, and start.
