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The San Francisco Storm may have had their fair share of the spotlight, more often than not being portrayed in a negative light, but their new owner, D’Angelo. has worked hard to prove that the media had it wrong. That at the heart of it all, the team was a family. They faced controversy together, they had each other's backs, and they always put the game first. As evidenced by their two Super Bowl wins in the last four years.
While the camaraderie and “family” talk was more like a repellant when it was first mentioned, the idea of a team working together cohesively and getting shit done was impossible to decline.
And I’ve never looked back.
We didn’t win last season. We didn’t even get close. But the team’s confidence never once wavered. Now we’re back, stronger than ever. Their pure grit and determination is something I can grasp.
With the Storm, my dream of winning a championship is closer than ever before. Nothing is standing in my way.
I’m living the dream.
At least I would be if I could get out of this weekend.
Coach Pierce blows his whistle to signal the end of practice, and I audibly groan. We have a bye this weekend and it couldn’t have come at a worse time.
“Are you sure you don’t need me?” I ask Pierce after jogging off the field to catch up with him, praying he’ll suddenly change his mind. “I could mentor some of the rookies, or maybe I could work with Thomas on perfecting my throw.” I took over for Thomas Kelly when he retired as the quarterback for the Storm, and he returned as our new quarterback coach this season. I’m surprised to say, we get along well. “He mentioned he doesn’t have any big plans this weekend,” I add to increase my chances.
Pierce offers me a rare smile and I internally curse. “I don’t care what you do, but you’re not doing it here. You need time away from this place. Everyone does. Enjoy it. The next few months are going to be busy.”
I nod and smile, while inside my frustrations wrestle with my need to always do the right thing. “Thanks, Coach. I’ll try.”
Like usual, I keep to myself in the locker room and sneak away ahead of my teammates, trying to avoid having to turn another one of them down when they invite me out for drinks. I like my teammates—they’re good guys—but the weekend festivities I’m being forced to attend are already draining my social battery and they haven’t even begun.
The dark clouds haunt me as I drive out of the secure parking lot, and a light drizzle of rain sets off the automatic wipers of my Range Rover, making me laugh sardonically. I should be ecstatic to be heading to Vegas. I’ve never been a huge fan of the cold, and it’s been colder than usual this year. We’re only in October, for fuck’s sake. But not even the promise of warmer weather can cheer me up.
My mind is running rampant with excuses as I’m pulling into the driveway of my temporary home—a home that’s likely to see out my career since I refuse to look for something more permanent. I’ve just turned the engine off when my mom calls, giving me a chance to try a few of my excuses on her.
“Hi, Mom,” I croak out, clearing my throat before putting on a show. “How are you?” I rasp again. “I hope you’re not sick like I am.”
“Good try, but you can do better.”
Goddammit. “My teammate has a stomach bug; I should probably stay home in case I caught it from him.”
Mom laughs out loud, and as always, it brings a genuine smile to my face. “I’m glad I amuse you.”
“Have you got anything else? Or can we move on to why I called?”
“One more and I promise it’s a good one. I don’t want to go.”
“I know, sweetie. But Hunter’s your closest friend.” I open my mouth to argue, closing it again when she beats me to it. “Yes, I know he’s your agent now, so it’s mostly about business, but he’s still one of the only guys you talk to outside of your team. And his mom is one of my closest friends. It’s just a weekend.”
“It’s not just a weekend. It’s brunches, lunches, dinners, drinks, pool parties, and a costume party for Halloween. And that’s only the bachelor party. We still have the wedding after that.” I whisper the last part with my teeth clenched, hoping Mom can feel my pain. But it only works to make her laugh harder.
“Sorry, I’m laughing about the costume party. That’s the best part. When was the last time you got to be someone else for a night? It might be good for you.”
The thought of being someone else has my mind whirring with possibilities. I can’t go anywhere these days without being recognized, and the constant attention takes a toll.
It all takes a toll.
God, this is fucked. I don’t have the time or energy for this. Three days away from football is three days too many, even if it is a bye weekend. I usually spend this week focusing on my mental game—watching old tapes, working to better myself in ways I don’t have time for during the season. I read, meditate, and walk in nature, separating myself from the constant scrutiny I’m under. A similar way to how I spend the offseason.
Vegas is not a place you go to focus your mind and avoid attention. It’s the complete opposite.
Only Mom’s right. I have to go. Hunt was my friend before he became my agent. We grew up together. Thick as thieves until I was drafted halfway across the country while he stayed closer to home.
Hunter invited me. Despite our relationship being mostly business these days, he still wanted me there. Hell, he even asked me to be part of the wedding party.
I graciously declined.
