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I stand with him for now. “Dad, do you ever wonder what life would be like without football?”
He looks out at the still empty field.
The teams haven’t been announced yet.
The cheerleaders aren’t on the track.
The marching band is exiting it as we watch.
The lights are on, the sky is dark, and the air is starting to get crisp.
There is excitement surrounding us.
My question just slipped out without any forethought.
“You know what, Nattie. I don’t ever wonder what life would be like without football. I feel like it’s in my blood. It’s what I’ve always done. It was my first love, long before I was the college hot shot that met your mom or first laid eyes on you kids. There is something about being on that field, it’s when I feel most alive. Controlling that field, whether it was as a player or now as a coach, it makes me feel like a Spartan warrior going into battle, and I love it.
“It’s everything—the lights on your face, the smell in the air, the roar of the crowd. If you’re lucky, you get to feel that for four years of high school. If you’re unrelenting, you get to feel it on a college field.
“Only the chosen few warriors will feel it professionally.
“I’ve been lucky enough to feel all of that as a player and now a coach. I will never regret a minute of it. I hope your brothers feel the same way.” Never taking his eye off the field, my dad puts his arm around my shoulders, and I feel like I just got to see into his soul. “I always hoped that you felt some version of that on the stage.”
I leave that statement hanging with no answer.
Luckily the announcers are ready to announce the two teams. Soon the cheerleaders come out in the navy blue and gold uniforms, tumbling and kicking into their positions. Tiffany is at the center of it all, sitting on top of someone’s shoulders, holding the banner that our team is going to run through as they are announced.
I get actual butterflies in my stomach for our guys.
Just then, Chloe and Sabrina walk up. “Hi, Mr. Sinclair. Hey, Nat.” Chloe quickly appraises me and smiles. She introduces my dad to Sabrina and stands with us at the fence for a few minutes before going to stake out seats in the bleachers.
“I’ll meet you guys up there. I’m going to stay here for a little longer.”
“Gotcha, Nat.” Leaning into my ear, she whispers, “You look like a total babe.” Then, as I shake my head, the two of them head up to the bleachers.
“You can go with the girls if you want. You don’t have to keep me company.”
“I’m good right here. I’ll go up in a little bit.”
“Love you, kiddo.”
“Love you too, Daddy.”
26
Brady
There is nothing like running on to this field. My senses are on high alert right now, trying to take it all in. AC/DC’s “Hell’s Bells” is pumping through the speakers and into the crowd.
We ran on to the field to this song for the first time during my freshman year. We won the state championship that game and used this as our song every single time we have played since.
The excitement in the crowd is palpable, and it’s thrumming through my veins. It’s hard to explain how at peace I feel at this moment, with my teammates hollering to pump us up and bouncing on their toes—the crowd cheering on their favorite team, nothing but a sea of blue and gold. Murphy’s sister Carys is walking out on the fifty-yard line to sing the National Anthem.
This is my field.
My church.
And I will worship every last second that I get to spend on it.
