Okay, I’m doing that to get more videos, but I’m still putting reps in.The results can be seen in my quads and glutes.
I finally call it quits and head to the shower.As I’m walking out, ready to go home for the day, I bump into Brandon Nix.He’s always had quite the attitude, and I half expect him to take a swing at me for running into him.Wouldn’t be the first time.He’s a total hothead and loose cannon.Instead, I’m surprised when he says, "Hey, Doyle, wanna do a publicity event?It’s for charity, but there’ll be tons of photo ops."
For a minute, I’m confused.Brandon Nix doesn’t do charity.He doesn’t do photo ops.He doesn’t even have a ClikClak profile, as far as I know.He gets in fights and runs his mouth.I wonder if he has to do some sort of community service or something.I’m pretty sure he’s on probation after that last red card and the altercation with the female ref.
Plus, the entire team usually makes fun of my social media presence, Brandon included.They don’t understand what a commodity it is.
I’m curious, though.This is totally out of character for him.I need more information.I decide to take the bait.
"Yeah, sure," I answer warily.
"Okay, here’s the deal.It’s on September first, before our game against the Wave.It’s called Soccer for Sibs.We’re doing a clinic for siblings of kids with chronic and terminal illnesses."
"Like a Make-a-Wish kind of thing?"
"Sort of, but this is for the healthy siblings of the sick kids.You know, the ones that always get left behind because their brother or sister is the one who gets all the attention.That’s who’s going to be there.It’s gonna be you, me, Landon, and Cally."Then he adds quickly, "Maybe some other people too."He nods awkwardly, mumbles, "thanks," and walks away abruptly.
Okay, that was weird.No one’s ever accused Brandon Nix of being slick or polished, though.
But when I think about what I’ve just gotten myself into, I roll my eyes.My ClikClak and IG are carefully constructed, aesthetically pleasing glimpses of my life.
At least the life I want people to see.
Whiny, needy kids don’t really fit into that.
Whatever.
It’ll be good for my image.It’ll look like I care about someone other than myself.It’s not that Idon’tcare.It’s more that I don’t have anyone to care about.I mean, my parents and my brothers and nieces and all that, yeah.Obviously.
I suppose I care about the Boston Buzzards, too.After all, I’m the "local boy makes good" story everyone loves to talk about.Growing up just 35 miles from where I now live out my dream is something the press likes to eat up.I think I’m the only Boston Buzzard who can claim Massachusetts as my home.Hell, I was actually born at Mass General, so I can even say I’m from Boston.There’s more than one sign in Sudbury that calls me a "Hometown Hero."
Just because I have six-pack abs and can kick a ball doesn’t make me a hero.I haven’tdoneanything that truly deserves adoration.I’m lucky because I am physically adept.It’s not like I saved the whales or fixed global warming or brokered peace in the Middle East.I haven’t even dated a Kardashian.
Most of the time, I’m at a loss for why people like me.
My brother Joey is a stand-up comedian who had his own Netflix special, and my brother Nicky is a Harvard Law graduate who works in the Massachusetts State Senate.I make videos in my underwear.Out of the Doyle brothers, I’m the least interesting.
Soccer is all I have.
I’m not qualified to do anything else, though, so I don’t know what to do, other than pretend everything is perfect.During the season, I don’t usually go out, so after practice, it’s home to a delivered meal kit and filming content.For some reason, next to my workout videos, my cooking videos do the best.I don’t necessarily let the world know that my food is all portioned out before I start filming myself cooking.
Chicks dig a man who can cook.
Not that it’s helping me.I haven’t seriously dated anyone in years.Turns out, despite the face and the body, I’ve got no rizz when it comes to the ladies.I turn into an idiot who blurts out whatever pops into my feeble brain.Unbelievably, that’s not a big turn-on for potential dates.
Also, if I didn’t have the recipe and step-by-step directions in front of me, I wouldn’t be able to make jack shit.Half the time, I can barely follow the recipe without screwing it up.Another detail I omit while I’m in front of the camera.I make sure to get pictures of my plate so I can post that too.The meals may look okay, but they certainly don’t always taste that way, and I have no idea why.
Hell, if it weren’t for ClikClak and Insta, I’d probably just eat right out of the pot so I didn’t have to do dishes.Truth be told, when Ma drops my laundry off tomorrow, and the kitchen is a mess, she’ll probably clean it for me.
Yes, I know.I’m 32 years old, and my mommy still does my laundry.I’ve never asked her to do that.She just does.She’s retired, so it gives her something to do, I guess.Makes her feel needed.We have an unspoken agreement.In return for her picking up after me, I get to have her meddling in my personal life, including near-constant harassment about finding a wife, settling down, and being less of a loner.
It’s not perfect, but so far, it works.For her, at least.
I drop my clothes on the floor and fall onto my bed.I should edit videos, but instead I end up doomscrolling until well after midnight.Animal videos.Septic tank fails.Magic tricks.Repeat until 2 a.m.Just like every night.
But when I put down the phone and close my eyes, I can’t think of anything else I want to do.Soccer has consumed such a large part of my life that there’s been little room for anything else.I can’t tell you the last time I read a book.Not even when I was in school.When you’re a D1 athlete, they let a lot slide.
I started ClikClak as a hobby during the pandemic, but it’s slowly taken over everything that’s not already claimed by the Buzzards.Now it feels like work too, but I also can’t imagine stepping away.What if I did?How long would it take people to forget about me?How long would it take them to realize I’m nothing special?
