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“Look!Today marks the two-week deadline that this year’s #NFLDraft eligible underclassmen can declare for this year’s draft. My prediction for the first 15 underclassmen to have their names called in April”—and here she began to read the names, coming to number five—“Oliver Saint, tight end, San Diego State University.”
“Ollie, you never told me this,” Joanne said, suddenly intrigued.
If he was a big-deal football player, she wouldn’t have to worry about money for the rest of her life.
Looking at her, he smiled, shy, but thinking if she cared about what was going on with his life, she’d be aware of the accolades he’d gotten. His mother decided to find out why.
“You never get to his games?” Clare asked.
“No, with work and school and everything, I don’t have a lot of time.”
Football bored her to tears, and when he was playing, his focus was on the game and his teammates, not her. So no, she never went to his games.
“You don’t care that I don’t go, do you?” she asked him. “I mean, you never ask me to go.”
“Yeah, I care, but I got over it in high school. I went to all your plays even though the theater is not my thing.”
He didn’t sayyour stupid boring plays, but the thought was there.
“Oh, jeez, I’m so sorry,” she said sincerely. “I guess I figured everyone loves the theater.”
“It’s like everyone loves football,” Charlie said.
“Not,” Clare said, and they laughed. “I learned to like it because my boys played. I bet your parents were the same way.”
“My dad never comes to my plays,” she said, sniffing. “It hurts. So I guess I’d better get to a game.”
“Well, it might be too late,” Clare said. “Because if our boy gets picked, he won’t be playing again, like he said, until he plays with his team.”
Draft night was thrilling. The streets of Nashville were packed with fans for blocks. The Saints were all there, too, with Clare and Charlie in the front row. The NFL commissioner came out on the stage, and his words went straight to Oliver’s heart.
“Tonight, we officially welcome the next generation of players in celebration of the NFL’s one hundredth season.”
“Is your phone on?” Charlie whispered.
“Right here, Pop.”
“They’ll call,” Clare said. “You know you’re picked because you’re here.”
“Yeah, but if I was in the top five, I’d know where already. Some of those lists had me at number five. I hope I’m not too far off.”
“You won’t be. Shush, here they go.”
The announcer was reading off information, and within seconds, Oliver’s phone vibrated. He got it out, his family surrounding him, grasping hands, as he put the phone to his ear.
“Thank you, sir,” he said, winking at his mother and father. “I accept.”
After he was picked by the Detroit Lions, the expectation of his friends and family weighed on his shoulders. Giving up everything that was familiar to him: the beauty of Southern California, which included the weather; the San Diego mystique between the Pacific Ocean and the mountains; the friends he’d had growing up; and, finally, high school sweetheart Joanne. Moving to Detroit with the culture shock began the scary journey, with fears he’d keep hidden away.
Having his name called on draft day was a surreal moment. The cheers of excitement didn’t cover his mother’s scream of delight. But afterward, reality set in.
“Detroit? They won three games out of twenty last season,” Oliver’s brother, Paul, said, frowning when he was told.
“I rest my case. They need me.”
“Your ego, son,” Clare lamented, shaking her head.
“I don’t like the idea of my baby brother in the snow, either.”
