Page 48 of Kickoff

"Don’t you think that poor boy must have said the same thing about his baseball career?"

"Probably. It sucks that his gift has been stolen from him, but how is it related to my situation?

"It's not. I want you to remember something. Most things in life happen for a reason. Even if it’s hard to see the endgame sometimes. Maybe Susan’s nephew is destined to find a cure for cancer or to be the best college baseball coach in history. Or maybe he’s supposed to be a spokesperson against drunk driving and inspire people around the country with his story. I have no idea. I just don’t want you or your brother to rely only on football and forget there’s a life outside the sport. I don’t like it when you put so much pressure on yourself. And I hate the fact you have insomnia because of a sport ruling your existence when it shouldn’t. Perhaps you’re destined to play in the big leagues and be the best quarterback of your generation, but maybe you’re supposed to do something else too. Something that doesn’t take a toll on your mental and physical health."

"Impossible."

"If you say so. Anyway, pick a degree you like. If, eventually, you gotta do something else with your life, then you won’t be miserable. It would make me very sad if you were."

"Seriously, Mom. Where is all this coming from? Are you okay? I have no intention of retiring from football anytime soon. And neither does Craig."

"I know, Mase. It’s just…that poor boy’s story got me thinking. As a mother, I can’t help but imagine what would happen if it were you or your brother navigating such a situation."

"Well, it’s not. We’re here, healthy and thriving. If you always imagine the worst, you’ll only worry about us."

"I already always worry about you two. It's my job as your mother. Also, I know football players are prone to injuries. Concussions are no joke, Mase. Your brain is precious. It’s not worth gambling with it. You experienced it firsthand last year. I don’t want you to live with long-term consequences. You’re still growing."

"Mom, stop. My brain is fine." I hugged her petite frame before releasing her. "Craig’s brain is fine too. Don’t lose sleep over this, okay? And I’ve already decided I’ll study business next year. See? I’m thinking long shot. It will open doors for me if needed. Melinda asked me a question the other day, and it got me thinking too.”

“You two have been spending more time together lately.”

I shrugged. “It’s no big deal. We’re friends.”

She raised a brow as if to say Yeah, right. “Anything else I should be aware of?”

“No. I will be helping her train so she can get back in shape.”

“She’s a nice one, Mase. Don’t hurt her.”

“Never. I would never hurt her on purpose, Mom.”

“Good.”

“And, Mom? It’s gonna be all right. You've always known football was in our DNA. We didn't choose the sport, it chose us."

"True. I remember when you were just a little kid and you stepped on that field for the first time. It was magical. It was like you’d done it a thousand times before. Still, I won't ever not worry about you two for as long as you both play.”

“I bet I would do the same thing if I were in your shoes.”

“How’s your shoulder? I noticed you’ve been icing it more than usual in the last few months."

I rotated my joint as if to prove to myself it was moving like it should. "It’s good, Mom. All good. I’m being careful, and I’m not icing it because it’s bothering me, but more as a preventive measure. It’s me being smart about my health and my future." And maybe also because it feels a bit stiff these days, and my worst nightmare would be to be benched as a result of not being able to throw a pigskin the way I used to.

She nodded. "Okay, then. I trust you, Mason. You would tell me if you were in pain?"

"Yes." Not this time.

"I love you."

"I love you too, Mom."

“I’m glad we had this talk. Are you still going on a walk?”

“Yep. Just need to clear my head. I won’t be long.”

“Want some company?”

“Nah. Go to bed. I’ll be back in an hour at the most. Night.” I kissed her cheek. Darkness enveloped me as soon as I stepped on the front porch. There was something oddly calming in the fact I was alone, wandering around the neighborhood when everyone else was asleep. A light breeze swept my face, and the earthy smell of petrichor in the air the rain had brought in an hour ago delighted my nostrils. It reminded me of summer, and somehow, I found it soothing.