[Complete] Ariel and the Bandits

34 - Winning Isn't Everything

The first time I ever stepped onto a football field I was thirteen years old. Ma was interviewing for a job opening at Dartmouth during the summer right before I started high school. Dad, Naz, and I tagged along for the trip and explored campus in the meantime. We stood at the very top of the stadium bleachers looking down at the players practicing on the vibrant green turf. I asked to get a closer look. Once I stood behind the coaches, I eavesdropped on the coaches explaining routes for the players to take. The quarterback stood beside a coach as they looked over this sheet of paper. When one of the coaches caught me watching, he waved me over and explained the play calling sheet to me. He allowed me to keep it and I rushed over to show my dad.

Dad patted my shoulder. "Which one do you want to be?"

I looked back at the field and my head followed the motion of a spiral thrown a fourth of the field. "The quarterback."

My dad has never been really into sports, given his Brazilian mother and South Korean father both encouraged him to focus on his studies and creative outlets above all else. Despite my paternal grandparents' fallout, dad always says they never stopped supporting him. And while they wanted him to get a high-paying, well-respected job, they were elated when he told them he was going to be a kindergarten teacher.

Ma's family is very into sports. Ma has danced Baile Folkorico since she was nine and played soccer all throughout her secondary education. Because to my abuelos, it wasn't enough to have good grades. To them the good grades were great, but they weren't enough to fill our lives with life.

So when it came to parenting, my parents compromised. If we found our niche, we keep above average grades while pursuing our dreams (although Ma made it very clear anything lower than a B minus implied a lack of motivation to do well and we probably weren't learning as seriously as we should be).

Then there was college football and my parents were confident I'd go pro, but they feared I'd abandoned education altogether. So I made sure to finish my degree even after being drafted. All my preparation both educational and physical has led up to this point in my life. I only hope it will take me farther than we are now.

The Bandits are walking into the MetLife Stadium locker room in New York for the AFC championship game against the one and only Pilots. And as per usual, the boys and I are completely focused. Serious. In the zone.

"You cannot leave me for Shawn Mendes."

I toss my duffel bag in the locker space, whip my head, and raise my eyebrows. "I wouldn't leave you for Shawn Mendes, Liam."

He places his hand on my shoulder. "Good. Because that man may have an ethereal voice, but he will never understand you like I do."

"Liam," I chuckle. "All I said was it'd be cool to know the guy." I pull my shirt over my head then remove the rest of my clothes to put on some compression shorts then my football pants.

Jake purposefully nudges his shoulder against Liam's. "Naz once told me she'd leave me for Shawn Mendes. Should I be concerned if you're replacing Liam?"

Liam's eyes say don't even think about it.

"Relax, you know I'd never do that to you," I assure him. "Who else is going to feed me and make sure I remember to run to the store and buy milk?"

"What if he just left to the store and never came back," Jake instigates.

"Then I should have reminded my dad to go to the store for milk all throughout my childhood."

"Dark, buddy." I pat him on the back.

The locker room door creaks open and Uriel strides in. When he notices our stares, Uriel offers us a smile and a small wave. He's talking to one of the other players, but isn't getting dressed like the rest of us. It doesn't go unnoticed by others.