Even through the pain in my leg and the emotions threatening to dump me on my arse, she was able to silence it all. All it took was one look, one smile, and I felt nothing.
Dropping her hands, she mouthed something to me. I wanted to believe it was ‘I love you’.
Before I had a chance to say anything back, Harry appeared at my side. “You ready?”
“For what?” I asked. The game was over. There was no more.
“You really think we’re going to let you just walk off the field like it’s any old day? Not a fucking chance.”
“What…?”
Michael appeared on my other side. “Hold on,” he said before bending down and hoisting me onto their shoulders.
I didn’t want this. I didn’t ask for it. But I knew how it worked. Hell, I couldn’t even count the number of times I’d chaired someone from the field over the years. Knowing this was my only chance, I put my faith in the guys holding me up to not drop me on my arse and lifted my hands high above my head and offered my thanks to the crowd. By the time I looked down again, I saw something that brought tears to my eyes. Both teams, players, coaches and staff had formed a guard of honour, and it looked like Michael and Harry were about to carry me straight down the middle.
“We don’t have to do this,” I said, glancing down at Harry only to find his beaming smile flashed back at me.
“Shut up, Conti. You only retire once. Enjoy it.”
He was right.
With my new ‘fuck it’ attitude, I smiled so hard it almost cracked my cheeks. It was an incredible experience and something I’d treasure forever. I just hoped someone, somewhere managed to snap a photo or two.
As we approached the tunnel, they set me back on my feet, and I spun around and faced the field. Everyone was standing there watching me. I was so overwhelmed there was a very real possibility that the photo on the back page of tomorrow’s paper would be me in tears. With one final wave, I headed for the change rooms slowly.
“Uncle Luca!” I heard my name called and looked up, searching out the voice I’d recognise anywhere.
Then, there they were. My nephews’ hands dangled over the top of the railing, reaching out for me. They were the last people in the world I’d ever want to disappoint. Reaching up, I high fived each of their outstretched hands before finding Phoebe, chewing on her thumb, tucked in the corner beside them. She might not be three yet, but that kid was a force to be reckoned with.
“Princess Phoebe.” I smiled up at her.
“Uncle Luca, you forgot me.” Her bottom lip trembled, and I felt like the biggest arse on the face of the planet.
“I’d never forget you, Phoebe. Never,” I assured her as I reached up and gently high fived her outstretched fingers.
“Promise?”
Man, this kid. She could guilt trip even the Pope.
“Promise.”
When a beaming smile broke out across her face and she disappeared amongst the masses, I knew my work here was done. Besides, I needed to get the hell off this leg.
Hobbling my way down the race, I accepted thanks and congratulations from the reporters, officials, and everyone else who’d somehow managed to score a pass. I’d never seen so many people down here before. But as long as they stayed outside the locker room, I didn’t give a shit.
As I stepped through the door, another round of applause broke out. This time it was just my team. My boys. My football family. Feeling my cheeks burn, I waved it off. The sooner all this shit was over, the easier this would be. I know they were trying to be nice and do the right thing but man, I was about to lose it like a kid whose favourite stuffed toy had been eaten by the family dog.
Thankfully the fanfare died down and everyone went back to focusing on themselves. Pulling the tape from my knee off, I found myself contemplating what hurt more. The stuffed knee itself or the fact that I’d just ripped every single hair from my leg in one painful waxing session.
After a long shower, I towelled off and dressed in my navy slacks and white button-down.
A wolf whistle sounded as I fastened my watch around my wrist and slid my phone into my pocket. “Someone’s looking awfully fancy for an unemployed bum,” Michael joked.
“What’s up, Conti? Job interview?” Harry added.
It was exactly what I needed. Some normalcy. Every time I’d been in a locker room anywhere in the world, there was always some ribbing from the boys. Some days it was your turn to cop it, other days you were one of the ones dishing it out.
“Maybe I’ve just got a hot date?” I countered.
