Page 116 of Fumble Into the End Zone
“Isn’t this a conflict of interest with your uncle owning the team and you picking me to grace your cover?” I asked.
Kindness assured me everything was legal. “According to the players’ association, everything falls between the ethical guidelines.”
“So, you’re Mr. Jordan’s niece?”
I went for it because I needed to know now. This entire meeting put me in a questionable situation with Bryce. He was my best friend and his football career was in jeopardy, in my opinion. Behind Vick and Shaunie, stood Doug Jordan, on his people he hates the most list.
“Why would you think I’m his niece?” she questioned.
“Because ain’t no way my daughter is gonna be on the sideline taking pictures of football players. Hell nawl.”
She tossed her hands in the air as if I offended her, but it was the truth. Most League players had second, sometimes third families. I’d seen women in and out of the hotel rooms. Kindness and I chatted for a few minutes, but I couldn’t stop my eyes from venturing toward her stomach. Kindness was petite, but she didn’t appear any different to me. One thing was for sure: Bryce and I needed to talk.
Therapy has become a part of my everyday life. Initially it began as a way to secure my wife, but it morphed into a lifeline. Once again my Mia found a way to take care of me.
“Mr. Allen,” Dr. Choice said as he shook my hand.
I snagged a seat on the purple couch and sat as he secured his seat behind his desk.
“Big game is coming up this week,” he said, and I nodded.
“It’s the reason why I came to see you. My head is everywhere but the game,” I said, and Dr. Choice flipped open his tablet.
He encouraged me with his hand to continue speaking. “Mia, my fiancée, is expecting twins. Harley, my firstborn, is excited. My granny is finally home, and our new house is almost ready. I landed a lucrative brand deal. Mia’s dad bought me a jet,” I said.
Dr. Choice’s face remained still as he wrote something on his tablet.
“Sounds as if things are going your way. Let me ask you something. In your past, when you were successful, what happened afterward?” he said.
I probed my thoughts and landed back on my grandfather dying.
“When I got recruited to Ohio, my grandfather died during the summer and the day I scored my first touchdown in pop warner, my dad was killed. And other small stuff. I remember being happy and then something tragic happens. I mean...”
My voice tapered off by the end of my sentence.
“Let’s explore. How did your grandfather die?” he asked.
“Cancer,” I said
“How did your father die?” he asked.
“He was a street dude. Died by the gun of a jealous friend is what I was told.”
I scanned the office, avoiding Dr. Choice’s eyes.
“Marcus, I’m going to throw this out there. Do you believe your punishment for success is losing a loved one?” Dr. Choice asked.
My mind traveled back to how fast my grandfather’s body gave out after I came home with the news. One day, we were putting up sheetrock and the next, he was barely eating. The day before my football game, my dad and I were tackling each other in the living room of our two-bedroom apartment. The next day, my mother was crying in the same living room he had just tackled me in.
“I don’t know. The more I achieve on a professional level, the more I lose in my personal life,” I said.
We sat in silence for several minutes. My heart ached, thinking about the loss I’d suffered. I haven’t even tackled my mother or Sierra. Although they left me, I processed it as a loss.
“I’m going to challenge your thinking. If you were never recruited, do you think your grandfather would have outlived cancer? If you didn’t score a touchdown at the pop warner, was it going to stop your father’s death?” he said.
Deep down, I knew I couldn’t prevent these things from happening, but the weight landed on my shoulders.
“I told myself I couldn’t stop these things but the weight…” I said.
