Getaway Car

Wearing a Football Helmet

"Welcome to Super Bowl LVIII!" the announcer's voice boomed through the stadium.

Travis was standing with his team, ready to run onto the field. They'd done it again: The Chiefs were in the Super Bowl, this time against the Cincinnati Bengals.

Travis had thrown himself into football over the last month. If he was thinking about football, he didn't have to think about Taylor. And it was hard not to think about her because she was everywhere. She was right, they asked about her in every press conference. He'd hoped the questions would subside when he finally answered their question about their relationship status. "We're friends and I think the world of her. But no, we're not together," he'd said. Then came the question of "why??" and his answer, "schedules." Next up were the speculations that he'd cheated on her, or she'd cheated on him. It was never ending.

His heart was breaking and he couldn't escape her. With her, he was able to take the scrutiny, because he got to see her. Being with her was worth it. That's what mattered. He'd face a firing squad for her. And now? He was living under this microscope without her; there was no bright side, no Taylor. It all just sucked. He'd deleted his social media just for a break and put on some metaphorical blinders. If it wasn't football, he wasn't interested. He was the first one to arrive at practice, and the last to leave. When he left practice, he went home to study recorded plays. 

He did make one exception to watch the Grammys, which Taylor largely swept. He enthusiastically cheered, "Alright! Let's go, Taylor!" every time she won, bothering his sleeping dog each time. It was the one time he allowed himself to think about Taylor, because he could focus on her and her achievements alone, and not about the two of them together. Outside of the Grammys though, it was football, football, and more football.

He was at the top of his game, but even his coach was concerned. His big easy laugh was almost nonexistent now. His on-field celebrations were a quick punch to the air; maybe a handful of "good works" to his teammates: no more elaborate goofy dances and poses. He felt numb to any feelings at this point, good or bad. His brother had called him a "pod person," and he hadn't known how right he was. He was a shell of who he'd been before, and all his spirit had been replaced with a lifeless football machine. But it worked. They made it to the Super Bowl.

"The Kansas City Chiefs!" the announcer roared. That was their cue. The team ran out onto the field, waving at the stands. The energy of the crowd was off, just like Travis. The Super Bowl crowd was the few enormously wealthy that could afford tickets, and they were playing in Las Vegas, far away from either team's home stadium. It lacked any of the buzz of Arrowhead, but Travis had a job to do.

"Let's fucking go," Travis thought to himself. He'd been so hyper-focused on this game that he hadn't allowed himself to think about what he'd do when the season was over and he was left to his thoughts again. It wasn't going to be pretty, so he banished the thought to the future. Right now, he had a game to play.

It was a tight game. The score was Chiefs 14, Bengals 17, but the Chiefs were in possession. They had enough time left on the clock for one more play. Travis refused to lose this game. It was all he had. Patrick Mahomes launched the ball across the field as Travis sprinted into position. Travis leapt and caught the football against his chest in mid-air, holding it close as he fell back down to Earth. The end zone was close. He had the ball, now he just had 10 yards to go.

Then he landed, hard. He knew instantly something wasn't right, but he couldn't a feel a thing through the adrenaline. He wasn't done yet. He ran for the end zone and collapsed. He'd done it. The Chiefs won 20-17. The stadium erupted.

Travis was immediately swarmed by his celebrating team.

"Hey, hey, help me to the bench?" Travis asked Patrick Mahomes under his breath. Patrick's face dropped.

"What happened? You hurt?" he asked as he got under his arm to act as a crutch, helping him hop off the field.

"I don't know man, I don't know," Travis said. The stadium was raining red and gold confetti. The euphoric Chiefs ran to find their families. Travis was trying not to panic before he saw a medic, but all he could think was, "Was that the last play of my career?"