I walk next to him with my head held high and with more confidence than I think I’ve felt in…well, forever.
Finally, everything is right in my world. After all these years, all my puzzle pieces have fallen into place and I feel like I belong.
I completely forget that the man standing beside me is famous. That a huge percentage of the population knows hisname, his face, part of his story. But it all comes crashing back when someone shouts for him.
The next thing we know, we’re surrounded by people wanting signatures, wanting to give him their best wishes, and to tell him how they were rooting for him since that dreaded game that may or may not have ended his career.
