A few people laughed, and Sasha mumbled my name under her breath. I ignored her and dug the shovel into the dirt with everybody else. Cameras flashed the whole time like we were doing something more exciting than moving a few piles of dirt from one spot to another.
Once the official part was over, the kids rushed us. That was the only part of the day I didn’t mind. I signed jerseys, footballs, hats, and somebody’s phone case. A little boy asked me if I thought he could make it to the league, and I told him he could if he worked and kept his grades right. His mama thanked me like I had done something major, but I hadn’t. Sometimes kids just needed to hear it from somebody they looked up to.
Trey signed a few things, too.
Tatum walked up laughing, with Kobe behind him. “Y’all really can’t be in the same place without arguing?”
“Ain’t nobody arguing with this nigga,” Trey said.
Before that could turn into more bullshit, my mama came over and grabbed my arm. Her eyes were still a little glossy, but she was smiling, so I knew I wasn’t in trouble.
“You did good up there,” she said.
“’Preciate it, Ma.”
“I’m so proud of you.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t. You hear it, but you don’t let yourself feel it,” she simpered.
I looked away because she had a way of saying shit that got me in my feelings and right now wasn’t the time for that. “Not right now, Ma.”
“Yes, right now. You did something good, and I’m proud of you. Let me say that to my baby.”
I blew out a breath and nodded. “Aight.”
She kissed my cheek, and my sister made a fake gagging sound behind her.
“Y’all so dramatic,” she said.
“And you’re still ugly,” I joked.
My pops stepped up then, and for a second, the mood shifted. Not enough for everybody to notice, but enough for me to feel it. He looked at the sign behind me, then back at me.
“This is going to help a lot of kids,” he said.
“That’s the plan.”
He nodded slowly. “You’re doing what you said you would.”
I didn’t say anything right away because I remembered telling him years ago that if I ever made it big, I was going to build something for the kids to look forward to. At the time, I was still angry at half the world and using football like it was the only thing keeping me from losing my mind. He probably remembered it, too.
“Yeah,” I finally said. “I am.”
He nodded again, and that was enough.
By the time everybody started clearing out, I was drained from shaking hands, smiling for pictures, answering questions, and pretending like I wasn’t ready to get the fuck on. Sasha walked beside me, already talking about the press coverage and how good this would look leading into the Kinetiq deal, and how it would be good for my image.
I heard her, but I wasn’t really listening.
My eyes went back to the sign one more time.
PROJECT 17 YOUTH SPORTS CENTER
It still felt weird seeing my dream come to life. I didn’t build it because I needed people clapping for me. I built it because I knew what it felt like to need somewhere to put all that anger before it turned into something worse.
And if this place kept even one young nigga from throwing his life away before he got a chance to live it, then I didn’t give a fuck how many cameras I had to stand in front of.
