Page 2 of Fumble Into the End Zone
“Daddy, you have to have faith. And plus, you’re the best football player in the world,” she said.
Harley gave me a proud smile, with one missing top tooth and two ponytails reaching beyond her ears. She was the best part of me. Becoming a single father at sixteen shaped me intothe man I am today. I still can’t understand how her mother stared into her brown eyes and signed over the rights to me.
“You tell ‘em,” Eddy said as she smacked my leg.
Looking into her gently aged brown eyes, wrinkled skin, and poised demeanor, I set my nerves aside. Eddy Allen, along with my grandfather, Earl Allen, had saved my and Harley’s lives. They raised me, and I had thought for sure when I brought Harley home, they would kick me out. Earl sat me down and we made a deal. I returned to school in exchange for their help with my daughter.
“With the second pick in the Football League draft, Miami has selected David Moose, the quarterback from California University,” Commissioner Rick Marrows said, and the crowd went wild with excitement.
I sat on my suede couch, expecting the first top five picks to be quarterbacks. Compared to the other five wide receivers, I put up impressive numbers in Ohio, but Brown, Stone, and Williams all put up record college stats this season.
My agent predicted I should go in the first round, but likely not until the seventh pick to Carolina. We had a good workout, and they needed another wide receiver opposite of Johnathan Casey. If they fell through, I could go to Washington.
“Arizona has traded the third pick. The Houston Armadillos, you’re on the clock,” Commissioner Rick said into the mic.
My phone vibrated with an unknown number and my heart raced.
“Hello,” I said.
“Marcus Allen, this is Coach Owens with the Armadillos. Welcome to the family. We are excited to have someone of your talent on our team. I have this gut feeling you and Bryce Prescott are going to make magic. You are special. This came from the top. They couldn’t pass you up and jumped back in the firstround. I’m fired up, dammit!” he screamed the last part into the phone.
“Coach, I’m ready to put in the work,” I assured him.
“We will see you soon,” he said.
Hanging up the phone, my heart beat tripled. I gave the room a nod before my eyes watered.
“Yaaayyyyyy! Hell yeah!” my coaches yelled in unison.
This wasn’t supposed to happen, the third pick of the draft. My grandmother and Harley both wrapped their arms around me.
“See, Daddy, I told you: faith,” Harley’s soft voice said.
“With the third pick in the Football League draft, Houston has selected Marcus Allen, a wide receiver from Ohio,” the commissioner said.
The stage colors changed to red and black as I snuck in a peek of the TV.
“Jerry, I can’t believe this. Houston traded back into the first round after giving up their first-round pick for the corner Gables last year. The Armadillos have put everyone on notice by selecting another weapon for Bryce Prescott. Doug Jordan has made some power moves these past two seasons. He is putting his team in the position to win the Elite Bowl,” McConnell said into the mic.
After my two favorite ladies released me, I leaned back, resting my head on the couch as the tears flowed.I told you I got them, old man. My mind replayed the promise I made to my grandfather before he passed.
“McConnell, Bryce Prescott is one happy quarterback tonight. Marcus Allen and Vick Landry on the field are going to upset defenses. It allows him to spread the ball around the field with that monster arm of his. Marcus is fast, versatile, and strong. He has run through some defenses. I’m saying it rightnow. I believe Houston will be Elite Bowl champions this year,” the announcer said.
“Jerry, you are going too far. Contender is as far as it goes,” his counterpart said.
“Marcus Allen turned the entire offense around for Ohio. This is major for the Armadillos, and we know the talent Bryce Prescott brings. Houston, get ready for the parade.”
A small, soft hand swiped away one of my tears. I opened my eyes and found two long ponytails and a set of small eyes staring at me. “Daddy, do we have to move?” Harley asked.
“Yes,” I said, and she frowned.
Ohio had been her home for the last four years. I called my daughter the collector of kids. She had friends everywhere, but she didn’t trust adults. Often, I called her my compass. If she didn’t connect with you, something was wrong with your spirit.
I sat up and pinched her jaw to encourage a smile. “We’re moving to Texas. No more winters for you,” I said, but she lowered her eyes.
“Daddy, what if I can’t make any friends?” she asked.
I took her small hands into mine. “Didn’t you just tell me to have some faith?”
