“I think it’s starting soon,” I say, and everyone turns their chairs to face the screen again.
“Does anyone actually know how this all works?” Pretty Boy asks.
“Not a clue,” I laugh. “They’ve got to get the ball to the opposite end of the field, other than that, just cheer when everyone wearing blue cheers.”
“Got it,” Pretty Boy chuckles.
“Hey,” Tank says, “which one is Jamie and Max’s friend?”
“Um… his name’s Choi, listen out for number eighty-eight,” I say nervously, making sure I don’t look at anyone because I know my face will give it away.
“Choi, eighty-eight,” Tank shouts, clapping his hands.
The Warriors lose the coin toss, and the game gets underway. I can’t see Stephen on the field so I’m guessing defense are up first; I zone out until the players all start switching up.
“There he is,” Tank says, pointing at the screen.
“Come on, eighty-eight,” Pretty Boy cheers.
“Why is he all the way out to the side like that?” Diablo asks.
“Um… so he’ll run ahead, and the quarterback will try and throw it to him,” I say, thinking back to all the times Stephen and I used to lie in bed, looking up at all the play sketches he had on his wall while he tried to explain it to me.
“Oh shit, there it goes,” Tank says, “the guy threw it.”
I hold my breath as we watch the ball sail through the air, Stephen is nowhere near it, but the next second he and the ball seem to meet at the end of the field, as though the throw was timed perfectly to match how fast he runs. He catches it and gets tackled to the floor, but they’ve already got the points.
“Touchdown!” Pretty Boy yells, as the words flash across the screen. “That’s a good thing, yeah?” he asks, turning to look at me.
“Yeah,” I chuckle, “that’s a good thing. He just scored his first NFL touchdown.”
“Yeah!” Tank yells. “Number eighty-eight!”
My heart bursts with pride for Stephen. He’s fucking doing it, this is everything he’s worked so hard for, everything he’s ever wanted. The camera pans to where he’s joined his parents by the stands; more cheers erupt as people recognize his dad from his own NFL days. It makes me so happy to see Stephen being able to hug them both, with Jamie and Max hugging next to them; but I wish more than anything that I could be with them.
Stephen
We won. I’m still in shock at the final whistle, with my teammates all leaping onto me after I scored the winning touchdown. Three touchdowns in my first ever professional game, my head is spinning.
“We won!” Marcus shouts at me through my helmet. “We fucking did it!”
“We did it!” I start to laugh, not able to think of anything more profound to say, instead just riding the adrenaline that’s coursing through my body, this is a high I’ll never forget.
I look at the stands and see my parents in each other’s arms, along with Jamie and Max too. Being able to run to them after every touchdown felt amazing, to share this moment with them after all their support made today even more special. The only thing that would have made it perfect is if Donovan was here, not having him in the stands during the happiest moment of my life feels wrong.
“Come on,” Jordan says, grabbing my arm. “We’ll do a victory lap, then we’ve gotta go and get interviewed.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, “now it’s the hard part.”
“What? That game wasn’t hard enough for you?” he chuckles, knocking his helmet against mine.
We jog around the field; seeing signs and banners with my name on is surreal, the crowd still electric from the win. I stop at my parents for one final hug, and hearing my dad tell me how proud he is brings tears to my eyes.
After we’re showered and back in our suits, Marcus leaves with Coach Matthews for the official podium interview, while the rest of us stand by our lockers, waiting for the press to come in and do the rounds.
The fact that we won should hopefully make this easier, there’s a lot of positives to talk about and I don’t have to explain any missed catches or lost opportunities. But still, I practice one of the breathing exercises I use before games to calm down, my heart rate is more intense than it was on the field.
Interviewers swarm at me when they’re let in, all wanting an exclusive from the rookie.
