“You do have quite the boot.” I don’t mean to compliment him, but it’s the truth. I’ve seen him score a goal on a direct free kick from at least 45 yards. That’s totally field goal range.
“What about you? Is there anything you wanted to do that your parents wouldn’t let you?”
I try to think. “Nothing’s coming to mind. I worked hard in school and tried not to bother them too much. Life was hard enough as it was. I didn’t need to add any stress to their lives. I played soccer of course. I couldn’t do travel or anything. Just regular school sports. My parents were always there, except on days when Benj had therapy or the weather was bad.”
“Isn’t a hallmark of playing soccer braving the weather? The school season goes from the heat of summer to snow. Where did you grow up?”
“Benj doesn’t do well in weather extremes. Or if it’s raining. We lived in South Dakota when I was young, but my parents moved to Denver after Benj was diagnosed, so they could be closer to the specialists. There isn’t much in South Dakota, aside from cows.”
“I’d think you were exaggerating but I just came from a ranch in Wyoming, so I believe you. There are more cows in Wyoming than people. How old were you when you moved?”
“Almost 11.”
“That’s a tough time for an upheaval. I started traveling at about 12. I went to live with a host family because we didn’t have a competitive enough league where we lived, and my father wasn’t going to uproot just for me. I ended up in the USSL Training Academy and playing for the USSL U18 team. I was initially drafted by the Sacramento Saints before being traded to the Nevada Renegades and then the Boston Buzzards.”
“You were on the National team as a youth?”
“Yeah, before I hit the adult league. I was ... a bit of a shit show from 18 until about 20. If Sacramento hadn’t already had me under contract, I don’t think I would have had a career. I still played, of course, but things were a little dicey then. Lots of people gave me a pass because of the accident and all.”
“So, you’re saying you’re settled down then?” I find that hard to believe.
“Off the field, yes. On the field, I play with the same amount of passion I always have.”
“Why are you like that during games?” If asked about this later, I’ll claim I don’t remember. He’s being so open that it might be my only shot to find out.
“Like what?”
“Such an asshole.” Okay, I’m definitely blaming that on the head injury.
“My dad once said I need to leave it all on the field or not bother walking to the locker room.”
“Okay, I can see that, but you’re ... a little over the top.”
“What do you mean by that?”
How do I phrase this without sounding like a total jerk? “You say whatever’s on your mind, all the time. Even if it’s offensive or hurts someone’s feelings.”
His hand is up again. “I can’t live my life worrying about how everyone else is feeling. That’s their issue, not mine. I tell it like I see it.”
I shake my head before remembering that I shouldn’t. “Your agent must have a field day with you.”
“My agent is a dick, and he hates me.”
There’s that blunt truth. “Don’t sugar coat it for me.”
“I’m not saying anything that’s not 100 percent the truth. My agent is the world’s biggest dick.”
“Are you trying to be a close second?”
He shrugs, his thumbs tapping on the wheel to some imaginary song. “You know what they say, ‘like father, like son.’”
If I were driving, I’d probably swerve the car off the road right now. Good thing I’m in the passenger’s seat. “Your dad is your agent?” Maybe my ears aren’t working properly. They said I could develop tinnitus. While that’s normally a ringing in the ears, maybe it changes the way words sound.
“Yeah, he doesn’t like me much. I mean, if your own father doesn’t care for you, then you don’t have high expectations for the rest of the world.”
“I’m sorry, I cannot relate at all to that. How can a father not love his own son?” I think about my dad carrying Benj around, changing him, feeding him. How he built special equipment just so Benj could do as much as any other kid. “I’m sorry,” I say again.
“Don’t be sorry. It’s made me who I am. Nothing bothers me. It’s better that way. I don’t get all bent out of shape about stupid things.”
